NOVEL WEB Down With The Sickness
Chapter 10 : Down With The Sickness
Chris, his tone laced with suspicion, addressed the newcomer. "Why are you here?"
The newcomer is restaurant owner, he then approach Chris and then demanded Chris
"Give me the girl Chris" The restaurant owner demanded with calm tone
Malcolm glared at the restaurant owner, his annoyance evident. "Who are you?" he spat.
The restaurant owner, completely ignoring Malcolm, turned his attention back to Chris. His tone grew more stern, tinged with irritation. "I will not repeat myself, Chris. Give me the girl."
Chris tightened his grip on Joy, his resolve hardening. He wasn't going to let anyone take her, regardless of the restaurant owner's growing frustration. "No," he said firmly, his voice filled with defiance.
The tension between them crackled, the stakes rising with every passing second. Joy, standing beside Chris, felt a surge of determination, ready to face whatever came next with him by her side.
Enraged by the restaurant owner's dismissive attitude, Malcolm lunged forward to attack. However, before he could make contact, a masked man appeared behind him, restraining him with a swift, precise move. The masked man, known as Melpomene, effortlessly stopped Malcolm in his tracks.
Melpomene fixed his serious gaze on Chris and Joy. "Let go of the girl," he commanded in a calm yet strict tone.
Chris turned towards Melpomene, his resolve unwavering. He tightened his grip on Joy, his protective instincts flaring even stronger. "No," he replied, his voice cold and serious, his eyes locked onto Melpomene's. He was determined to protect Joy, no matter the cost.
Melpomene glanced at his boss, the restaurant owner. "Boss, it seems this guy won't give up the girl easily."
The restaurant owner returned the look with disappointment. His voice turned aggressive as he glared at Chris and Joy. "That girl is mine. She's not going anywhere. I will take her by force if necessary."
"Then what should I do?" Melpomene asked, his tone calm but firm.
The restaurant owner pondered for a moment, his reluctance to resort to violence evident. But his desire to possess Joy overpowered his hesitation. "Do whatever you need to do," he commanded coldly, locking eyes with Melpomene.
Melpomene nodded, his expression hardening as he prepared to carry out his orders. Chris, sensing the impending danger, braced himself, his grip on Joy unyielding. The air was thick with tension as the confrontation teetered on the edge of violence.
With a heavy sigh that echoed the weight of his resolve, Melpomene's form became a blur of motion.
In a heartbeat, he was a tempest, ascending above Chris with the grace of a storm cloud. His descent was lightning-fast, a furious kick crashing down, sending Chris's head thundering against the unforgiving earth.
The world spun as Chris's vision blurred, the taste of iron flooding his mouth. A crimson mask began to paint his visage, the result of Melpomene's brutal welcome. "Ahh...!" The scream tore from his lips, a raw sound of agony and shock.
But even as pain clouded his senses, Chris's spirit remained unyielding. As Melpomene reached out to claim Joy, Chris's hand shot out, an iron vice clamping around Melpomene's wrist. "I won't let you take her..." His voice was a growl, low and fierce, a promise etched in steel.
Melpomene's frustration mounted, his efforts to free himself from Chris's steadfast grip proving futile. The air crackled with tension, the restaurant owner's gaze upon them, icy and detached, a silent witness to the unfolding drama.
Malcolm's resurgence was not just a mere recovery; it was a declaration of war. With the ferocity of a lion, he roared, "You think you can stop me!" His voice was a tumultuous wave of anger and determination, crashing through the silence as he lunged towards Melpomene with the precision of a seasoned warrior.
The air itself seemed to tremble as Malcolm's onslaught bore down upon Melpomene. The elder fighter's instincts screamed for evasion, but time had dulled the sharpness of his reactions. The strike was inevitable, a crushing blow that sent shockwaves through his skull. "Gah!.." It was the sound of a man who had known countless battles, yet none like this. His mask, once a symbol of his enigma, lay in ruins, revealing the storied wrinkles of a face that had seen too many suns rise and fall.
As Melpomene hit the ground, the dust rose around him like the ghosts of his past victories. Each breath was a battle, each heartbeat a drum of war still raging within him. His eyes, once bright with the fire of youth, now burned with the embers of a fading legacy, glaring at Malcolm with undiminished hate.
He tried to rise, his body a map of pain, each movement a reminder of wounds both fresh and long-forgotten. "Damn... I'm getting old..." The words were spoken to the earth beneath him, a grudging admission from a warrior who had always defied the sands of time.
But this was not the end of Melpomene. With a will as indomitable as the mountains, he pushed against the ground, his arms trembling with the effort.
The pain was a mere whisper to a spirit that shouted defiance. Slowly, he rose, his silhouette a monument to all who stand against the ravages of time.
To be continued...