Everybody around me chorused "Because he lives, I can face tomorrow" but all I could see was him telling me that my life was his to take, his to destroy, his to do whatever he pleases. As long as he lives.
Dressed in a brown and black patterned maxi dress, a scarf knotted tightly on my bald head, I try to will myself to believe that there's no harm. This is just a group of people who have come together for the night to worship the birth of Christ. There's no harm here. Mr. Mullins can't find me here.
I worked for Mr Mullins for the past three years, worked tirelessly in managing the pub, and at the same time, covered up his dirty dealings. I could no longer stand it when I found out he begun to venture into the skin trade. So I wanted out. He agreed. But I knew he wasn't going to let me go just like that. I knew of every of his dealings and if there was anyone to succeed in taking him down, it would be me.
I do not want to do any of that. A taste of the normal is what I want to experience for the first time in my life. But it seems as if normal is still very far from me at the moment since I'm in a church and still watching out for hit attacks.
As if on cue, the sound of gunshots ring out inside the church and instinctively, everybody cowers. Mothers grabbing their kids, partners grabbing onto their partners, they all make their way to the door. I join the crowd in moving and pray I don't get noticed by one of the men standing next to the door, scrutinizing people running by. Looking out for me.
In the midst of the commotion, I realize there's no way I'm making it out of here with this gown. If they don't kill me, the gown will. So, I do the only thing I can, in a situation like this. Rip the gown.
Taking out a scapel from my thigh, I gather the length of the gown and pass the scalpel through it. I raise my head to see Gus, staring directly at me. A smirk on his face.
Gus, Mr. Mullins' head of security has always disliked me for being ahead of him in every way. It's not my fault he's dumb. Knowing Gus, he would do all his stupid brain can muster to ensure he kills me tonight.
I don't acknowledge him as I make my way towards the door, determined to get out of here alive. Surprisingly, the one at the door makes a move to leave and I take the chance. People are still hurling themselves out the church so there is a higher chance of me blending in.
I make my way out the church building and take the street to the left. I have no idea where it is I'm heading and what it is I'm heading into but the street is pitch dark. The perfect place for me to stay hidden.
I increase my pace, using the cars parked on the roadside as a shield and run further into the street. I take off my scarf, leaving my bald head open to the chilly midnight air.
Who knows what is running through Gus's head as he let me go?
I'm a long distance away from the church when I decide to slow down. If Gus and his men decided not to chase after me from the church, that must mean something else.
They must believe they are ahead of me already. Maybe they are. I stop to think of what Gus and Mr. Mullins would think I would do in this situation?
Realization dawns upon me, just as headlights flash on me, from both sides of the street.
I led them to me.
I take out two knives from the strap on my left thigh and prepare for whatever it is coming for me.
A click was all I heard.
And three car doors are open. Four men stand on either sides of the three cars with open doors. I can't make out their faces but from their builds, I know who they are. Their personal strengths, I know. Collective strength, I have no idea.
I didn't even realize I had held my breath and taken a fighting stance, waiting for someone to walk towards me till someone did. Gus.
I don't wait for him to make the first move. I throw a knife towards one of the men behind him, distracting Gus for a second. It heads straight for the guy's forehead and lodges itself there. If I wasn't in such dire situation, I would have admired how perfectly the knife lodged into his forehead. Like it was made for it.
The others make a run towards me and Gus shoots my way. Years of training tells me he shot lower so I duck to the left and bump into the door of the flower shop right there. I don't get the time to recover before I'm forced to roll over, to the other side. The shots barely missing me. Bringing myself up, I swing the knife and it cuts Gus right through his hand. Slowing him down.
I don't even spare a second to see his reaction. This time, I plunge the bloodied knife directly into the eyes of one of the men, using one of my legs to sweep him from under his feet. Swiftly, I bend to pick up his gun and shoot Gus' one more time, on his hand and for the first time, on both kneecaps. Limiting his movements.
Having the gun is an added advantage and having taken down Gus, the highest trained among them, what I do to the rest is a blur. I want to know the reason why the occupants of the last car refused to make themselves known.
I walk towards them, ignoring the pain from the bullet in my arm. At that point, he decides to reveal himself. Mr. Mullins.
"What a surprise Revena. We meet again" Mr. Mullins says as he steps out of the car. His staff in one hand, a black hat on his head. With his velvety black tuxedo, he is what you'd describe as a man of substance.
He walks towards me, using the stick which disguises a metal blade to aid himself.
"You thought you could run away from me? You didn't think I would let you leave so easily?" He continues to say, making his way through the piles of bodies strewn among us. Circling me.
"Stupid is something you were never but impulsive is something you've always been, Revena dear. Now, come with me. Let's end this nonsense."
"No. It might have been an impulsive decision but I've never been sure of anything, like I am of this. I no longer want to be a part of this" I say to him.
"Oh! cut the nonsense. You will always be a part of this. You've been mine from the very first day, remember?"
Yes. I remember very much. The day I was tired of being a nobody and I begged him to take me in, that I was willing to be whatever he wants me to be as long as I was somebody.
And he did. He accepted me into the pub, made me manager and put me in charge of everything.
"Well, if you say you want to be on your own, I have no choice but to let you be." He says, just as he tips the cover of his staff, revealing a sharp blade.
Taking me by surprise, he cuts through my left arm. Luckily, I'm right-handed. Raising my arm to his neck, I cut through his jugular and he stills.
Mr Mullins isn't someone I expect to die so easily and when he drives the tip of his staff into my stomach, it doesn't come off as a shock to me.
"Goodbye Mr. Mullins". I say, as we both fall to our deaths.
But something prickles my skin as soon as I hit the floor. Raising my hand to my neck, I draw the red tinsel that tangled itself on my neck.
And that reminds me.
It was a still normal Christmas Eve for normal people.
