Chapter 3 - The Ascent of the Hunter
The hallway of the tenement building smelled of damp rot,
and the metallic tang of old pipes.
Vincent walked in the center of the group,
his footsteps heavy and deliberate,
each one a heartbeat of impending doom.
The stairs creaked under the weight of his men,
as they ascended in a grim procession,
their faces masked by the dim,
yellow light of the flickering bulbs.
From the third floor,
a sound drifted down the stairwell,
a sound that made Vincent’s blood turn to ice.
It was a woman’s muffled plea,
followed by the dull,
sickening thud of a fist hitting flesh.
Then,
laughter—the high,
piercing cackle of men who felt powerful,
because they were hurting the helpless.
Vincent stopped on the landing,
signaling his men to halt.
He closed his eyes for a second,
listening to the rhythm of the violence above,
mapping out the room in his mind.
"Tony,"
he whispered,
the word barely a breath.
"The back door."
Tony nodded,
melting into the darkness toward the fire escape.
Vincent turned to the two men beside him,
their eyes hard and ready.
"On my count,"
he said,
his hand moving to the heavy oak door of Apartment 3B.
He could hear them inside,
boasting about how much they were going to enjoy the night.
"I bet she’s got more hidden somewhere,"
a voice sneered,
followed by another blow.
Vincent didn't wait for the count.
He kicked the door with a force that shattered the frame,
the wood splintering like dry bone.
The room exploded into motion,
as the men inside scrambled for weapons they were too slow to reach.
Vincent stepped into the light,
his silhouette framed by the hallway's gloom,
a vision of death in a three-piece suit.
The three men in the room froze,
their eyes widening as they recognized the face,
of the man they had only heard of in whispers.
"Vincent Torino,"
one of them gasped,
his face turning the color of ash.
"You’re a long way from home,
trash,"
Vincent said,
his gun leveled at the lead man’s heart.
He looked past them,
to the woman tied to the chair in the corner.
She was broken,
bleeding,
and barely conscious,
but her eyes found his,
and in them,
he saw Sophie’s face.
"Kill them,"
Vincent ordered,
May you like
his voice devoid of any emotion,
"but leave the leader for me."
