Chapter 25 Awakening the Sleeping Demon

I glanced over at Isabella and Harper. Neither of them looked too thrilled; the whole creepy vibe was getting to them, too.

Following the address from the tip-off, we twisted and turned through the streets until we finally ended up at the spot where Brandon was found—a narrow, dark alley.

The walls on both sides were covered in messy graffiti, filthy and reeking of urine, making you want to gag.

The ground was littered with puddles and trash, giving off a suffocating stench.

Deep in the alley, an old warehouse loomed like a beast lurking in the shadows, waiting for its prey.

The warehouse door was slightly open, the inside pitch black, like a giant abyss ready to swallow anything that came near.

My heart tightened, and I gripped the gun in my hand, a bad feeling creeping in.

This whole place was giving off major creepy vibes, sending shivers down my spine.

I turned to Isabella and Harper, "Be careful, something's off here."

Isabella nodded, pulled a powerful flashlight out of her backpack, and switched it on. A blinding beam of light cut through the darkness, lighting up a small area at the warehouse entrance.

Harper took a small tactical flashlight out of his pocket and cautiously scanned the surroundings.

I kicked open the warehouse door. The loud bang echoed in the silent alley, sounding particularly piercing, like it was waking up a sleeping demon.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air foul, filled with a strong smell of blood and decay, almost suffocating.

My stomach churned again, almost making me throw up.

I forced down the nausea, raised my gun, and stepped into the warehouse, with Isabella and Harper right behind me.

The powerful flashlight beam swept back and forth, lighting up piles of junk—broken furniture, rusty metal, and various unknown trash.

The air in the warehouse was as stagnant as a dead pool, the strong stench of decay mixed with the smell of blood, hitting me hard and making me want to puke.

The flashlight beam danced on the mottled walls, lighting up the piles of junk, broken furniture, rusty metal, and those bulging woven bags, like silent giants lurking in the dark, instilling fear.

My gaze locked onto the scene in the center of the warehouse.

It was an altar made of rough stones, with a corpse placed crookedly on top.

The corpse was highly decomposed, the skin a bluish-purple, emitting a nauseating stench, like a piece of rotten meat abandoned in a gutter.

A bunch of green-headed flies buzzed around the corpse, greedily sucking up the decaying juices, making a creepy sound.

I fought back the urge to puke, taking hesitant steps closer, the beam of my flashlight zeroing in on the body.

I gasped. Even though the corpse was barely recognizable, I knew him instantly—Brandon!

He was wearing a blood-red robe, the bright color clashing shockingly with his decayed skin.

A dagger was stuck in his chest, with a lifelike red rose carved on the handle, like a flower of death blooming in hell.

I shouted, "The mark of Hecate! Damn it!"

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, a chill running from my feet to my head, making my spine tingle.

All our previous suspicions and unease were confirmed at this moment.

Brandon was indeed killed by the Hecate organization!

Scenes of finding Brandon's body in the cave and the scorpion tattoo on his arm flashed through my mind.

Now, with the blood-red robe and the red rose on the dagger, everything pointed to the same direction—the Hecate organization!

What kind of monsters were they to kill in such a brutal way!

I looked around. The altar made of rough stones and the strange symbols and patterns scattered around all indicated some kind of evil ritual.

I had seen those symbols in the cave before. At the time, I thought they were some kind of ancient script. Now it seemed they were likely special symbols of the Hecate organization!

This warehouse was likely a place where they conducted some kind of evil ritual!

I suddenly remembered the chat logs of the Hecate organization members that we had decrypted before—"ritual," "sacrifice," "rebirth"...

Could it be that Brandon was their so-called "sacrifice"?

What exactly do they want to "rebirth"? Could it be Scarlett?

This thought sent a chill down my spine, a strong sense of unease and anger welling up in my heart.

I felt like I was in the middle of a huge conspiracy, everything around me becoming confusing and full of danger.

A loud bang, the warehouse door was suddenly slammed shut from the outside, plunging the warehouse into pitch-black darkness.

Isabella's startled voice rang out in the dark, "What's going on?"

Almost simultaneously, my sixth sense alerted me to danger!

"Someone! Take cover!" I shouted, pushing Isabella and Harper to the ground. Almost as soon as we hit the floor, a burst of bullets shot into the warehouse, hitting the walls and sending sparks flying.

In the darkness, the muzzle flashes looked like the eyes of demons from hell, flickering with a bloodthirsty glow.

I quickly adjusted my position, ducking behind a pile of junk, pulled out my handgun, and fired towards the entrance. The gunshots were deafening, echoing in the empty warehouse.

I shouted, "Isabella, Harper, you guys okay?"

"I'm fine!" Isabella replied.

"I'm okay too!" Harper, though a bit nervous, stayed relatively calm.

"How many of them are there?" Isabella asked.

"Not sure, at least two!" I answered while carefully listening to the noises outside, trying to pinpoint their positions. "They've got heavy firepower; they must be coming for us!"

Damn it! We had walked right into an ambush!

In the darkness, I felt every nerve in my body stretched to the limit, like a taut bowstring ready to snap at any moment.

Adrenaline surged through me, my heart pounding like a drum, making my eardrums buzz.

I hid behind a pile of old tires, blindly firing two shots towards the entrance to suppress their fire, and shouted, "Isabella, left side! Harper, cover!"

Isabella reacted quickly, rolling to hide behind a large concrete pillar while drawing her handgun and firing back at the warehouse entrance.

The gunshots were crisp and powerful, the trajectories precise, clearly the result of long-term training.

What surprised me was Harper. She usually seemed quiet and gentle, but now she displayed astonishing combat skills.

She calmly pulled a Glock 17 from her backpack, her movements precise and efficient, no hesitation at all.

She crouched low, quickly moving to a shelf, using it as cover, and fired a few precise shots towards the entrance, effectively suppressing the enemy's fire.

I took the opportunity to peek out, and the scene at the warehouse entrance made my heart skip a beat.

Two shadows were advancing towards us, taking turns to cover each other with gunfire.

They were burly, agile, and their tactical coordination was skilled, clearly professional assassins.

Their guns spewed fire, bullets raining down on the surrounding junk.

Wood splinters flew, sparks scattered, and the warehouse was filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

"They're professional assassins!" The thought flashed through my mind and I said, "We need to end this quickly!"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and signaled to Isabella and Harper.

We had to work closely together to survive this deadly fight.

I suddenly dashed out from behind cover, firing several shots at one of the shadows.

Three bullets, two hit his shoulder, and one hit his thigh.

He screamed and fell to the ground, his gun dropping from his hand.

"Isabella, suppressive fire!" I shouted, creating an opportunity for Harper.

Isabella got the message, firing at the other shadow.

The barrage of bullets rained down like a storm, forcing the shadow to retreat behind cover.

Harper took the chance to move to the side. She moved like a phantom, a whisper of motion in the darkness, closing the distance between herself and the remaining attacker with terrifying speed.

From the side, I saw her eyes sharp and her movements precise, looking more like a seasoned special forces soldier than a psychological profiler.

A gunshot rang out, and the shadow screamed, falling to the ground, clutching his leg in pain.

I seized the moment, sprinting forward and kicking his gun away.

Then, without hesitation, I pinned him to the ground, pressing my knee into his back to prevent any resistance.

Just when I thought the fight was over, a sudden change occurred!

The other shadow suddenly rushed out from behind cover, aiming his gun at me.

"Go to hell!" he roared, pulling the trigger.

In the nick of time, Harper leaped forward, using her body to shield me from the bullet.

I watched in horror as the bullet pierced her shoulder, blood instantly staining her clothes.

"Harper!" I shouted, my heart sinking.

Seeing this, the shadow turned to flee.

Furious, I raised my gun and fired several shots at him.

The bullets hit his back precisely, and he stumbled a few steps before collapsing to the ground, motionless.

I quickly ran to Harper's side, supporting her, "Harper, are you okay?"

Harper's face was pale, her lips bloodless, but she forced a smile, saying, "I'm… I'm okay. I'm not… going to die…"

The gunfire ceased, and the warehouse fell silent once more.

Panting heavily, I walked over to the two shadows and shone my flashlight on their faces.

They were both wearing masks, their features obscured.

I removed their masks, carefully examining their faces.

They were all very young, their eyes vacant, as if they had been brainwashed.

They were likely just members of the Hecate organization; the real mastermind was still at large.

I immediately ordered that the two captives be taken back for interrogation, hoping to extract valuable information from them.

Isabella joined me, her face etched with concern. "James, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice tight. "You?"

"I'm okay."

But we both knew, deep down, that this was far from over.