Chapter 32: Everyone’s Losing It II
The room exploded into chaos.
People scattered.. Others dove under beds like that would somehow protect them from what was about to happen.
Charles locked eyes with the masked men as if he was actually considering going full WWE on them.
They were calm, deadly kind that meant they knew exactly what they were doing.
Charles didn’t run.
He stood his ground, his chest kept heaving, as he still clutched the lamp like it was Excalibur. "You bastards," he yelled at them as they remained calm. "TWO of my fucking friends just got killed in your stupid little game, and you want me to sit around like lab rat and smile?"
No one moved. No one spoke. All of us froze in place, waiting.
The masked men didn’t say a word.
The first one stepped forward, and in one blink, Charles swung the lamp. But the man caught it with one hand....just caught it like it was nothing.
The second masked man spun low, his leg sweeping under Charles like a martial arts move straight out of a movie. Charles hit the floor with a hard thud, groaning.
Before he could scramble up, the third masked man moved with lightning speed, his elbow slamming straight into Charles’ ribs, knocking the air out of him. A sick crunch echoed. His fists were fucking hard, trained fists. Not wild punches, no. These were trained strikes. Military, maybe. Or something worse.