Screaming tore me from an unconscious state. I jumped to my feet instinctively, wielding my gun. It stopped. I stepped from the sofa, with daylight still dominating, I was cautious. People are always around, some with weapons, most without. I stepped lightly out of the flat, looking every which way I could. An uproar of a feminine shriek echoed the halls, her cries followed, I can hear her crying from her. A girl screaming, most likely one thing... I really do hate other men, nothing deems a woman as a piece of meat nor any person. Maybe except those who treat others like that, they don't seem to humane, so aren't part of humanity. Seems fair.
I looked at the stairs that led to the floor above, she's helpless, she'll most likely be murdered afterwards. Either that or she'll fall pregnant with an unwanted child, or she could even die from childbirth, leaving the child to die. I found myself running up the steps, two steps at a time. Screams belted through the walls continuously, exhaustion weaved within the cries. Why am I helping this woman, what will I get in return? Nothing. I found my way to green door, like the previous one I entered however this one wasn't broken. I kicked down the door, looking for a girl tied up most likely, but that wasn't what I saw.
A woman, blacked out eyes, greasy, tied back hair and tattered clothes stood in front of me. Wielding a pistol, her piercing eyes looking down the barrel. She chuckled lightly, her grin devilish,
"What a pussy," she claimed. A con-artist, should of figured...
"So here is how this is going to go," she began to explain, stepping from behind the kitchen counter. Her hips twisted whilst she walked, oblivious to my shotgun.
"You're going to give me all your shit, whether it's useful or not... " her brown eyes darkened with threat, her finger twitching on the trigger. How did she get a gun? Might of found it like I did mine, but maybe it was something else, I'd rather not know if it is something else, this chick is dangerous.
"Hurry up!" she spat, gripping her pistol tighter, impatience aching her legs in anticipating of killing.
"Or what?" I said slowly, not much to expect her to say, I know the answer.
"What the hell do you think? I'll fucking shoot you, you cunt!" she shrieked. Her jaw clenching, I peered to her pistol, a revolver, a pretty nice gun. I smirked a little, dumb bitch.
"Where'd you get that gun then?" I inquired, leading against the door frame, crossing my arms.
"What does that matter?" she muttered, beads of sweat roll around her face,
"Well..." I began, taking my shotgun from my back, she stood her ground, still pointing her toy at me. "Real guns have to take ammo, and that isn't no pistol. It's some shitty kid's toy for playing cowboys, now then."
I held the shotgun firmly in both hands, pumped it once and pointed it at her.
"Do you want to see how a real gun works love?" her cockiness had ran dry, she threw her gun at me, backing away from me. I laughed abruptly, lowering my gun,
"You're not worth a bullet, you've been lucky this time." I turned to leave the door, stopping at the doorway, I turned to her. I didn't feel sympathy for her, she shouldn't be playing with fire,
"Maybe you should get a fake gun that doesn't say made in China on it." She widened her eyes for a second, clutching to the counter of the kitchen she was leaning against.
"Its a bit of a give away," I stated, leaving. I wasn't going to waste any more time on her, I've got to get going, it's almost dark. Back to nocturnal living.