Sound of MadnessI
"Yeah, I get it,
You're an outcast.
Always under attack.
Always coming in last,
Bringing up the past."
The music reverberated through the dark club's walls with the pounding thud of an explosion; no real stealth was required, Frank just had to keep his dark overcoat over Linda. He had been watching the club for over a week now, after a rash of bloody disappearances involving the club's members. Rounding the hallway out onto the main dance floor the place smelled of sweat, vomit, and sex. The room was packed, but his experienced eye found about 12 or 13 potential suspects.
"It could be worse."
Frank muttered and as if by fate he noticed movement off in the distance. One of them had recognized him and was rapidly waving his arms to draw attention. Sheer shock at being recognized cost Frank precious seconds, his own level of arrogance wouldn't let even him believe for a second someone here should have been watching for him. It was to late to go back now and with no other choice he kicked over a table and brought Linda to bear. Instantly, the club's music was drowned out by a combination of screaming, gunshots, and an electric discharge, and with the crowd clearing, Frank was finding it easier to aim. His initial guess was wrong there was more like 15 of them and doubt began to briefly flood his mind. Interestingly, he found them more disconcerting than his normal bouts because he rarely had them during battles. Maybe he was getting to reliant on the kid and the others.
Breaking glass brought him back to reality, as he looked up to a window that had been too blackened from the inside to see. A metal cylinder had been the cause and he paused for a brief moment to watch it go sailing through the air before it dawned on him that watching a bomb instead of running from it was a bad idea. A mental check made the window his closest exit point, and without another thought he launched himself to the window. The explosion was right on the heels of his feet as he landed into a heavy roll that put most of the pain on the top of his head and shoulders. Shaking his head clear, he heard the sounds of sirens in one direction and a fleeing motorcycle in the other.
Who helped him? Who were they? Why were they prepared for him? How did they know him?
With a groan, Frank picked himself up and fled in the opposite direction of the noise.