Chapter 102: Prison Break
Chapter 102: Prison Break
Ezra lay on the cold stone floor of his cell, his mind racing. The chains binding him were heavy, but not unbreakable. He knew he had to escape, and soon.
He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. He had to make his break plausible, something that wouldn't immediately draw suspicion of his true nature. Something Malachi couldn't use as evidence for a breach of the Law of Secrecy.
He studied the cell door. The door was strong but the hinge was weak with rust. Ezra chuckled to himself. If he could weaken it further, he might have a chance. He strained against the chains, feeling them dig into his wrists. The pain was sharp, but he used it to fuel his determination.
Ezra spotted a loose stone on the floor near the corner of the cell. With some effort, he scooted over and kicked it towards him. He gripped the stone and began hammering it against the chains, using the jagged edge to create weak points. The metal groaned under the assault but stood strong.
Ezra kept banging on the chains but the hand which held the chain down was working. As the stone fell, his hand put force, trying to break the chain link. He had to make this look like the stone did the breaking.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the links snapped. Ezra wasted no time, quickly freeing his hands and then his feet. He rubbed his raw wrists, wincing at the sting.
He strained his ears. No one was coming. He grinned. That means there was no one currently watching the cameras. With his hands free, he approached the cell door. He focused on the hinge and pushed.
He used his vampire strength to apply pressure until he heard a satisfying crack. The hinge gave way and the door fell open.
He grinned. It would be hard to judge if he had used vampire level strength. Strength didn't have a physical measurement indicator. This was, after all, something a human could do.
He stepped into the dimly lit corridor, listening intently. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly from somewhere down the hall. Ezra moved cautiously, staying close to the walls. He had to find a way out without drawing too much attention.
The first guard he encountered was dozing in a chair near the entrance to another hallway. Ezra crept up behind him, careful to avoid any noise. With a swift, silent motion, he grabbed the guard's head and slammed it into the wall, knocking him out cold. Ezra quickly relieved the guard of his keys and knife, tucking the latter into his belt.
Ezra moved deeper into the stronghold, his senses heightened. He encountered several more guards along the way, each one dispatched with quick strikes. He knew he had to be fast. It wouldn't be long before someone noticed the empty cell and the missing guards.
He navigated the labyrinthine corridors, relying on his memory and instincts. As he turned a corner, he spotted a door slightly ajar with light spilling out.
Ezra approached cautiously, peering inside. Garth was there, alone, rifling through some papers on a desk. Ezra's anger flared, but he kept his movements controlled. He slipped into the room, closing the door silently behind him.
Garth looked up just in time to see Ezra advancing. His eyes widened in shock. "Ezra? How did you-"
Ezra didn't give him a chance to finish. He lunged, the knife flashing in his hand. Garth tried to draw his own weapon, but Ezra was faster. He slashed across Garth's arm, disarming him, then drove the knife into his chest. Garth gasped, blood bubbling at his lips as he sank to the floor.
Ezra stood over him, his expression cold. "This is for betraying me," he said quietly. Garth's eyes fluttered shut, his body going limp. Ezra wiped the knife on his shirt, then turned to leave the room.
He knew Malachi wouldn't be far. With Malachi believing him captured, Malachi would be more vulnerable, and Ezra intended to take full advantage. He moved with renewed purpose, his steps silent and deliberate. The stronghold seemed endless, but he followed the distant sounds of movement, knowing they would lead him to Malachi.
As he rounded another corner, he found himself facing a large, reinforced door. It was guarded by two of Malachi's best men, their expressions grim. Ezra took a deep breath, gripping the knife tightly. He needed to be smart about this.
He scanned the area and noticed a stack of crates nearby. Using the shadows for cover, he crept over and climbed atop the highest one, positioning himself directly above the guards. With a calculated leap, he landed behind them, the element of surprise on his side.
The guards turned, their hands reaching for their weapons, but Ezra was already in motion. He struck the first guard across the temple with the hilt of his knife, sending him sprawling to the ground. The second guard swung a baton at Ezra's head, but he ducked, the baton whistling harmlessly past his ear.
Ezra retaliated with a powerful kick to the guard's knee, followed by a swift punch that knocked him out cold.
With the guards incapacitated, Ezra turned his attention to the door. He pushed it open, stepping into a lavishly decorated room. At the far end, sitting behind an ornate desk, was Malachi.
Malachi looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw Ezra. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."
Ezra stepped forward, his grip tightening on the knife. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."
Malachi rose to his feet, a sneer curling his lips. "I won't make that mistake again."
Ezra took a deep breath, his mind focused on the task at hand. This was the moment he had been waiting for. All the pain, all the anger, had led to this confrontation. He was ready to end it once and for all.
The room seemed to close in around them. Ezra knew this would be a fight to the death, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to come out on top.
The two vampires stood facing each other, their eyes locked in a deadly gaze. The final battle was about to begin.