In Cold Blood Chapter 1 Summary Novels & Stories

Chapter 69: Kira Rogers I'm calm, even in the storm. There's a lot of panic on his face, and I should probably feel panic too, but I've been in the face of death multiple times, so I know just how to react—with cold, precise calculation. I shoot the man beside him dead after giving him a chance to change his mind. If he thinks he has a clear, clean shot, he should shoot first. But if not, he can drop the gun and save himself just this once. However, when I stare straight at him, he looks like he's only going to pull his own trigger if I don't pull mine first. He's a newbie. He hesitates. He doesn’t want to carry out the vision before him. I laugh internally as I get it over with.

All I remembered was someone shouting in my ear, "Hang in there, Vivian! Colonel Black has ordered us to bring you home!" I smiled as I closed my eyes. At long last, someone had come to take me home. … When I came to, I was already at the Riverdale Military District General Hospital. Bruno was watching over me from the edge of the bed, his eyes bloodshot from staying up. "You're awake?" His voice trembled. "You little brat… You almost scared me to death!" I parted my lips, but I couldn't make a sound. "Save your breath. Your trachea was injured." He held me down. "The mission was a total success. The intel was a game-changer, and the headquarters has awarded you a Medal of Honor."

Fear was for people with something to lose. One lunged, but I was faster. The blade sank into his eye socket before he could even scream. Blood gushed over my hands, warm despite the freezing cold. The others hesitated for just a second, long enough for me to grab the dead man’s coat and run. I didn’t make it far. The black convoy appeared like a phantom at the end of the alley. The lead car rolled to a stop, its tinted window lowering with a slow mechanical hum. That was the first time I saw him.

Chapter 114: ||Natalia’s POV|| The first thing I felt was cold. The second was the weight in my limbs. I couldn't guess what it was but it was heavy, like someone had poured concrete into my veins making it impossible for me to move my legs. I tried to remember how this happened but my head throbbed. Confused, I paused, trying to speak but even my mouth was suddenly too dry… My heart started racing as panic slowly drifted inside of me.

Devon POV The steering wheel felt cold beneath my palms, but it was the blood—Nadia’s dark, drying blood coating my forearm that felt like lead. Every time I shifted gears, the blood scent filled the cabin, a sickening reminder of the beast I had become to end the nightmare.

The darkness swallowed them whole. ☠️ End of Chapter 16

Rhett's POV It was the cold that woke me first, that thin chill that seeps into the skin when the night air hangs heavy after rain. My eyes opened to darkness, the faint hum of crickets far away, and a dull ache running down my side. For a moment I could not remember where I was. Then the scent of blood and burned wood reached me, faint but distinct, and everything came rushing back. The ambush, the blades, the heat of battle, the way my strength had slipped from me before I blacked out.

Without warning, without hesitation, Alexei pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening. The man's head snapped back. Blood exploded from the wound, splattering across my face. It was warm and sticky. His body hit the floor with a heavy thud. I stood frozen, trembling as blood dripped down my cheek. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. Alexei had just killed a man right in front of me. Again. And this time his blood was on my face. "He is not one of my men," Alexei muttered under his breath. He stepped over the body and looked at me. His green eyes were cold.

To have that yanked away was a physical mutilation. Her vision began to tunnel. The cold was winning. Her breaths came in shallow, ineffective pants, fogging faintly in the cold air. Is this how it ends? The thought was strangely calm. Not in battle, not in glory. On a cold floor, alone, because a boy said no.

My hands are cold in my lap and the silver behind my eyes is asleep. “No,” I say. “That wasn’t me.” I had not burned. My hands were cold. The silver was banked. I was sitting still in a dead room and it saw me anyway. The first timer did not start in the trench. It started here, on wet concrete, with Sarah's screen going white and my bones trying to be quiet.