Chapter 12

for her. The words were a sham but they bought comfort. A candle in the dark.

A candle with flickering, dying flames but a candle nonetheless. She sought the warmth from it greedily every single time. The flames had grown weaker and weaker with every life taken and she wasn’t sure how much she could give before the candle went out entirely. Until she was left in the dark with nothing to hold onto.

She wasn’t sure what would happen when the flame did die.

 Maybe she would drown in that bleakness. Maybe that’ll be the end of Ilana Meyers.

But she stroked the flame now, giving it air to breathe. She needed it to stay strong for a little longer. Ilana wasn’t done right now. She wanted her revenge. Once that was done, she would gladly allow the flame to go out.

The darkness would be a welcome respite then. But she had to fight until she had her vengeance.

She took in a sharp breath and looked around the room. It was messy enough to depict a crime scene but not enough to give any clues.

The whole interaction barely lasted a few minutes but she could feel the house stirring around her. She pulled her mask up and stepped out the door.

The hallway was too dark for it to be natural. She was good but even she could not fight blind. She felt for the wall and walked towards the stairs but a voice made her stop.

She held her breath and listened. It sounded like footsteps. And they were right behind her.

She whirled around and attacked blindly, missing the target. She blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness.

She heard the attack but she was too disoriented to react and she fell on her back, a pain blooming across her chest.

He pointed a gun at her head and she rolled around at the last second, the sound echoing against the walls.

She stood up and attacked. He defended, his arms moving rhythmically against every attack, like he could predict her moves.

He grabbed an end of her scarf - which was now wound around her neck instead of her head - and pulled tightly, choking her.

She gasped, whirling around so the scarf unwounded and she grabbed onto the other end.

She yanked harshly on her end and he stumbled forward, just within her reach. She slashed his arm. He hissed, letting the scarf go and it fell to the ground.

He fired and the bullet brushed past the shell of her ear. She gritted her teeth and attacked but he was good at this game.

Ilana slashed at the already injured hand once again and he groaned, the blood dripping down on the floor. 

Someone shot from behind her and it hit her on the shoulder. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek and whirled around, throwing the knife. It hit him in the stomach and he fell down, whimpering.

The one she had been previously fighting, the one with the bloodied arm, grabbed her around the waist and held the gun to her head.

“Drop your knife, little lady,” he said, a slight hitch in his breath.

Ilana almost smirked. She let go of the knife and it clattered to the floor.

“You're surrounded by cowards,” she said, seeing the guy she'd stabbed in the stomach whimpering on the ground pathetically.

Her captor sighed. “I know. Now, tell me who sent you.”

“It has been fun but it's time for me to leave,” she replied instead and before he could respond, she brought her elbow back and hit him in the crotch.

He let her go, his hands on his knees as he doubled over with pain. She pulled the dagger in her sleeve and drove it through his heart.

Great men often fell by the most common of tricks.

She grabbed her scarf from the ground and wrapped it around her neck once again.

She put the other one out of his misery and then ran down the stairs. She had been here for barely half an hour but neighbors would have heard the commotion by now.

The police would surround the place in a matter of moments.

Maybe their superstition would buy her a few extra seconds byt Ilana always prepared for the worst scenarios.

“Kid?” She called and he came out from behind the couch, right where she'd left him.

“It's done?” He asked, looking pale and ghostly.

“Yes. Let's go.”

They left through the front door and circled to the back of the house before disappearing in the forests.

“I didn't get to see any action,” he said.

“You heard it and the way you're looking, I'd say that was enough for you.”

He turned red but didn't reply. They walked further into the woods until the vegetation was thick, even moonlight was unable to filter in.

“Where am I supposed to drop you off?” She asked, her fist around the collar of his shirt as to not lose him in the darkness.

“Vincent said he'll pick me.”

“He's picking me too, then,” she said, telling him to call Vincent.

She removed her scarf and pressed it onto her bleeding shoulder.

She tried to tie a knot but lifting the injured hand proved difficult and she winched.

“Let me help you,” the boy offered but Ilana shrugged him away.

She'd done this a thousand times before. She didn't need help.

She finally managed to get the knot tight enough to subdue the bleeding, feeling s little light headed now.

They continued to walk in the darkness until the boy announced Vincent's arrival.

Ilana felt whosy and the kid noticed that, leading the way and holding onto Ilana.

She tripped over roots and rocks and the branches scratched her face but the kid somehow managed to bring her out of the forest.

Vincent ran towards them, supporting Ilana's weight as he took her towards the car.

“Where's your supply bag?” He asked, strapping her onto the backseat.

“Didn't bring it,” she replied, still a little mad at him for not telling her he was in the city.

“And what part of your stupid brain made you do that?”

She shrugged even though he couldn't see her.

“Guess I was feeling a little extra suicidal today,” she managed to force the words out before she fainted.