I strip the Special Forces officer of his uniform, and dress him in my clothes. Luckily, he looks somewhat like me. I leave him at the back of the elevator, with the knife still in his neck. I take his shotgun and pull the black balaclava over my face, as to hide my face, however, there is still the hole in the side.

The elevator “dings” and blood has pooled on the floor around the body, I am now on the roof. David is there, probably thinking of stopping me from killing the chancellor, unaware that he is too late. He turns around when the elevator arrives and his ponderous look turns into a look of sheer horror as he sees “Rasputin” with a knife in “his” throat.

“H-He, he-he’s . . . dead . . ?” David says in utter horror.

“No. He is very much alive,” I say back.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

David tries to run, he plans suicide, as to escape the horrors he will face. I stop him by putting the shotgun around his throat, putting him in a chokehold.

“Damn, I wish you hadn’t tried that, then I could have threatened you with throwing you over the edge, however, there are other ways . . .” I let the sentence drop off then tighten my grip on David’s throat.

“W-Why are you d-doing this . . ?” David says while his throat squeezes together from the cold steel pressing against it.

“Like I said earlier, I’m an anarchist, chaos runs through my veins.”

“C-Chaos . .? Rasputin, this is madness.”

“Madness . . ? This is anarchy.”

I turn him towards the elevator and release my grip on his neck. I press the barrel to his spine. “Will you help me?” I say knowing I have left him no other choice.

David swallows hard,”S-Sure, but only for my safety, not for yours.”

“Whatever, just get moving. Tell any guards that ask questions that you need to return to the TV station to pick up some files. And that I will escort you.”

David nods slowly.

The barrel of the shotgun moves from his spine and into a neutral position. We walk into the elevator and it travels to the first floor.

“Ding”, we walk out into the lobby. David breaks out into a nervous sweat and when we are almost to the door when he compromises my disguise.

“Terrorist! He killed the chan-”

He is interrupted by a shotgun blast. The buckshot rips through his chest. His heart is gone and a large portion of his vertebrae. No doubt, he’s dead.

Soon there were five men in front of me, each one of them brandishing an automatic rifle. I looked around desperately for something to take them out.

C’mon. Come on. It can’t end like this . . .

I spot my way out: a chandelier hanging about twenty feet up, on the ceiling. With that much momentum it would kill all of the Special Forces, easily. Instead of snapping (which I mainly do for dramatic effect, to please the child in me) I simply use my mind (as not to tip off the Special Forces) to melt the chain.

It’s not hard to see fro twenty feet up that the chain is turning red. It becomes more brittle, and snaps, the giant glass ornament falls.

The Special Forces are too distracted by the chandelier to mind me, and they stare up in awe. Glass shatters, the crystals dance across the tile; blood pools on the floor.

Five more dead. That’s nine counts capital murder.

I do not mourn the death of these pawns, instead I discard the shotgun, and replace it with one of the assault rifles. I turn around, to leave, and walk over David’s body. Ten. Ten counts. However, I don’t mourn his death either, I leave out of the glass double doors in the lobby.

Running as fast I can, I reach the perimeter fence – which leads out to a lightly wooded area. Luckily, they haven’t put up the razor wire yet. I reach the fence, and I begin climbing over it, however, when I reach the top a huge pain appears in my shin, and travels up through my body. I see the blur of a bullet and assume it tore through my leg.

The ground met my shoulder with tremendous force, and I rolled down an embankment. The automatic rifle was lost somewhere along the way.

The dirt turned into concrete, and I was about to enter the reservoir that provided the city’s main water supply. My body skipped down the concrete slop. Cold water splashed all over me, and instantly I was drenched.

And aside from that, I was now not only a wanted man, but also a fugitive.

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