Chapter 7: Red Line
The air was still as death.
Axel stood in front of the group, crouched behind the stone. His voice was quiet, sharp, calculated—more like a command than a suggestion.
"Jason," he said, pointing east. "Circle left. Watch the cabin window with the cracked glass. The man with the limp watches that side. He dies first."
Jason nodded.
"Rachel. You and Hank take the back. There's a hole in the fence. Use it. Wait for my signal. Rachel, knife only. Silent. Hank, if anyone bolts from the back—you end them."
Rachel gave him a small, firm nod. Hank loaded his weapon and said, "Understood."
"Emily, Mara—you stay here. If anything goes wrong, you fall back. Protect yourselves. Don't try to be heroes."
Emily tried to protest, but Mara pulled her back. "We get it."
Axel's eyes flicked across them one last time. Cold. Steady.
"Move."
They scattered like trained soldiers.
Axel remained behind for a second, his hand gripping the hilt of his katana. His heart didn't race. His breath didn't shake. He was built for this—wired by grief, trained by survival, broken and reforged into something else entirely.
He moved through the trees, silent and invisible.
Each step closer to the cabin, he planned each move. Quick. Clean. No mess. No risk to the group. Just four dead men.
But then—he stopped.
A sound bled through the wooden walls of the cabin.
A voice.
A woman.
Crying. Pleading. But not for mercy. Not for hope.
"Please," she whispered, barely audible, her voice cracking like glass. "Please just kill me."
Axel froze.
Something inside him shifted.
He crept to the side of the cabin and saw through the sliver between the wallboards.
She was on the ground, half-naked, bloodied, broken. Her arms bruised, her mouth cut open from being gagged too tight. Around her, the men laughed. One of them played with her blood-soaked necklace. Another kicked a broken teddy bear toward her.
"She keeps crying about her little brother," one said with a smirk. "Did you see his face when I—"
Axel didn't need to hear the rest.
He stood up.
And he dropped the plan.
No clean kills. No fast deaths.
Not anymore.
This would not be tactical.
It would be punishment.
Brutal. Slow. Personal.
He drew his katana and stepped forward, eyes like a storm—ready to make monsters remember what fear felt like.
He saw inside the cabin at first before he moved and he didn't see the woman so he didn't know
But now
Now he saw everything
And now he will act
---
The door didn't creak when it opened.
Axel made sure of that.
He stepped inside the cabin like a ghost, his katana drawn, his eyes empty of everything but the storm within.
The first man didn't even have time to turn around.
Axel drove the blade through the back of his neck, severing the spine with a wet snap. Blood sprayed the wooden wall like paint from a broken hose. The man collapsed, gurgling.
The others turned too late.
The second lunged with a pipe—but Axel was faster. He sidestepped, slashing upward across the man's stomach. Guts spilled out like wet rope. The man fell to his knees, howling, trying to shove them back inside before Axel drove his knife through his eye, pinning his skull to the wall.
Two down.
The third screamed, reaching for the rusted shotgun leaning against the table.
Axel didn't run.
He stalked.
He walked toward him, slow and controlled, letting him load a shell with shaking hands.
The shotgun clicked.
The man raised it—fired.
Axel ducked left. The blast missed, tearing through the cabin wall. Axel closed the distance and grabbed the man's throat with one hand, pinning him to the wall. He didn't use his sword.
He used his fists.
A punch to the face—bone cracked.
Another—teeth spilled from his mouth.
Another—until the man's face was a red smear on the wooden boards.
He let the corpse slide down.
Three.
The last one tried to run—screaming as he kicked open the back door.
Axel threw his knife.
It slammed into the back of his thigh. The man screamed, fell, dragged himself toward the woods.
Axel walked out after him.
The night air was cold.
The man sobbed as Axel loomed over him, stepping on his back to keep him still. He reached down and whispered, "Was my brother crying like that?"
The man tried to plead, but Axel pulled the knife from his leg slowly, savoring the sound.
Then he flipped him over.
Cut by cut, he carved a warning into the man's chest. Letter by letter.
"I see you."
When the screams stopped, the forest went silent.
Axel stood there, coated in blood, breathing slow.
The woman inside the cabin hadn't moved. She stared at him from the floor, her eyes wide, terrified… but also grateful.
He knelt beside her and untied her wrists gently.
No words.
He didn't need them.
As she sobbed into his shoulder, Axel held her for a moment with speaking
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