Y/n's POV

(...1 hour before)

Word count: 2.5k

The blood-splattered chair once occupied by Makarov only a few second ago was left empty, save for the small digital clock sitting atop the dented seat. Its glowing red numbers casted a faint red hue on each dwindling digit, illuminating the backdrop of the sleek black device. Five minutes. Five minutes until every bastard occupying this building will feel the wrath of my built up fury. 

Five. More. Minutes.

A storm of retribution raged in the very base of my being, with lightening-rodded tendrils striking through my bones, slithering around my muscles, and tightening its electrical grip until I was nothing but an unstoppable force, raging for an outlet. My insides churned and writhed, my fingers twitching as they thrummed against my bare thighs.

Three. More. Minutes.

All of the pain these soldiers had inscribed deep into my flesh became etched into the fabric of my body, fueling the flames of vengeance licking at the deepest depths of my mind. The thirst for bloodshed was becoming insatiable. Every dead body, each splatter of blood across my face, and every pained scream, begging, pleading for me to show mercy would hardly be enough to quench it. 

May God have mercy on their souls because I won't. 

My bloodshot eyes were lit ablaze with an intensity so strong, it bordered complete madness. My narrowed gaze drilled holes into the clock's display, the anger inside of them burning so fiercely I could almost see faint wisps of smoke emanating from the device. Each seething intake of air stoked the molten lava running through my veins, a volcano on the brink of explosion.

One. More. Minute.

A guttural growl rumbled deep from the base of my sore throat as images of the abuse, the torture, the inhumane treatment I had received ran rampant in my brain. Flash photos of ripped-off fingernails, fractured bones, desperate gasps for air, choked back sobs and screams, flicked across my eyes like a fucked up slideshow stuck on a never-ending loop.

Time. So little yet so much left on the clock, simultaneously crawling at a snails pace and hurtling forward at a rapid speed. The ambient sounds of heavy footsteps, screams echoing from nearby hallways, and loud thuds were all muffled by the blood rushing in my ears, by the small tick of each second passing. 

So. Close.

Three...

Two...

One.

Scrambling off the seat, my fingers interlocked around the digital clock before I smashed it into the nearest wall, the glass display shattering upon impact. Tiny crystal pieces and large shards clattered to the dirtied floor around my bare feet. In a quick motion, I collected the sharpest piece of glass, clenching it tightly between my blistered fingers, slicing small cuts into the delicate skin of my palm.

With a grin twisting at my lips, highlighting my long lost sanity, my foot launched into the door, sending it flying off its hinges and surely alerting every soldier in a mile's distance. "ПРИХОДИТЕ И ПРИВЕДИТЕ МЕНЯ, УБЕДНИКИ (COME AND GET ME MOTHERFUCKERS)," I roared loudly, my entire body trembling underneath the sheer force of my anger, my rage. 

I'll show them hell before I send them straight there.

The devil is waiting. 

And her name is Y/n.

Loud footsteps pounded against each side of the hallway, left and right, straight to my position. A maniacal laugh tore through my throat, reverberating against the concrete walls and tiled floors. My neck whipped in either direction, my fingers unwrapping and rewrapping around the shard, a sickening smirk overtaking the bottom half of my pallid face. The air surrounding me crackled with an electrical tension filled with nothing short of insanity.

The first soldier rounded the corner, wide-eyed, gun shaking in their hand as they aimed it. My steps were thunderous as I stormed toward them, my thighs a blur though the look in my eyes was unmissable. Rage. With a quick click of their trigger, my body teetered to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullet directed at my chest. 

The flames of vengeance were ignited long ago, casting a sinister glow that surrounded my approaching form like an aura. Lunging from the floor, I barreled straight into the soldier, toppling them to the ground, grabbing the barrel of their gun and ripping it from their grasp. "Н-нет! П-пожалуйста (N-No! P-please-" blood splattered across my face as I sent the shard through their neck, stabbing relentlessly until not even their own family could identify them.

Ripping the shirt from their chest, I pushed it down shoulders, the fabric almost swallowing my body whole. More footsteps thundered down the hall, ordering each other in Russian that I couldn't possibly care to translate. Grasping the gun from off the floor, my hands flew back down, diligently tearing the supply belt off the corpse beneath me and securing it around my own waist. 

Game on.

Three soldiers stormed to the end of the hallway, gawking at their dead comrade, though they probably weren't able to tell which one. Before their shock had a chance to wear off, I was already pouncing on one of them, the man already writhing beneath my hips. Not taking my eyes off of him, I aimed the gun to my right and shot both of his comrades through the head with one bullet. 

Tears poured from his eyes, his body trembling as piss ran down his leg. "ЕСЛИ- у меня есть семья- Я- ПОЖАЛУЙСТА! ПОМОЩЬ- (I- I have a family- I- PLEASE! HEL-)" Dragging a knife through the sides of his lips, the bullshit spewing from his mouth came to an immediate stop as shock overrode his senses. "Was that supposed to matter to me?" I whispered in his ear, malice dripping from my tongue.

More footsteps and shouts in my direction shook the walls of the hallway, my back burned as I felt many laser tip sensors from rifles aimed at it. It's gonna take more than fucking that to stop me. Grabbing a grenade from my belt, I pulled the pin and shoved it into the soldier's gaping, bloody mouth. "Где бы ты ни оказался. Скажи им, что я послал тебя (Wherever you end up. Tell them I sent you)," I hissed quietly.

Standing up, I turned around, facing the gathering of soldiers, all guns trained on me. Their eyes flicked from the writhing soldier at my feet up to my crazed eyes. "Отойди (Stand down)," one of the soldiers yelled. With a grin, I put my hands up. A small fucking time window ticked down in my head, it'll be close but goddamn will it be worth it. 

With a nod of the main soldier's head, he motioned with his rifle at the screaming soldier, trembling and shaking at my feet, his desperate pleas muffled by the grenade in his mouth. The explosive was difficult to see with the bubbling blood frothing between his cut up lips. A few brave soldiers approached the man, their guns slightly lowering. Rookie fucking move, Russians. Rookie move.

Waiting just a moment more, letting their guards fall, I turned on my heel, not wasting another second as sprinted down the hall, bullets whizzing past me as loud Russian curses bounced off the walls. A loud laugh brewed in my throat as my feet rounded the hallway, listening intently as four pairs of thundering boots attempted to catch up to me

Not even a second later, a loud, deafening boom shook the walls, the foundation of them crumbling. Ear-piercing screams and guttural sobs resonated soon after, a melody filtering through the ringing in my ears. Heat traveled down the hall, nipping at my back as I continued to bust through the doors, and kill every fucking soldier I could.

Skittering around corners with my rifle was raised, bursts of ammo fired from its barrel in mere seconds, hitting every fucking mark with lethal precision. 

The entire building and every inhabitant inside of it would feel my wrath. 

A stench of iron began to permeate the entire structure, the air stagnant and heavy. Stepping over corpses, I began to prowl quietly, my footsteps light like fallen snow as I walked the perimeter, sending bullets into any hidden soldier, radioes always in their hands.

Silence draped over the entire area as I continued my search for any stragglers who managed to escape me, the building shrouded in an unnatural hush. It was calm, too fucking calm, a type of calm that hangs in the air like a foreboding whisper. A silence so eerily profound it seemed to engulf the very essence of the structure. 

Time itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the impending storm I could feel bubbling in the distance. Having spent over a decade in the battlefield, it was crystal what the fuck this meant. These bastards called back up. The secret the walls, ceilings, and floors of this building held were whispered in my ear, warning me of danger. If I could, I'd remind where the true danger resides. In me. 

Leaning against a wall, I waited. 

Waited for the true fun to begin.

A loud blast tore through the silence minutes later, rapid footsteps scouring the building through its entrance. Tossing the low-ammo gun to the ground, my fingers locked around a new rifle and brought it to my chest. The loud clatter alerted every new soldier of my position, the approaching boots slamming in my direction a testament to that. Cracking my neck side to side, I peered through my scope, the barrel aimed at the large doorway in front of me.

My finger pressed sporadically against the trigger as soldiers flooded inside, sending loud cracks of gunfire into as many as I could. Heads snapped back, blood spurted from wounds, bodies crashed to the ground, gurgling screams emitted from anyone who survived half their face being blown off. It was fucking gruesome. 

It became glaringly obvious how outnumbered I was becoming. Hoards of soldiers paid little attention to their dead comrades strewn out at their feet as they trampled over the corpses underneath their boots. My feet danced left to right as I dodged oncoming bullets aimed at vital places across my body. 

"Fuck-" I cursed through clenched teeth as a shot grazed my shoulder, the superficial wound leaking blood. The soldiers entering were fucking endless, my gun constantly flying back and forth, taking out my most immediate threats. Throwing the rifle over my shoulder, my feet stormed to the edge of the room before launching my left heel into a desk, flipping the furniture on its side. 

Diving behind it, bullets began to dent and riddle the flimsy metal. Spewing profanities from my lips, my head barely had time to peer over the table long enough to get good aim on any soldier. Growling loudly, and ducking back down, I pulled the rifle from my shoulder and lifted it above my skull, spraying bullets back and forth and praying they'd hit. A few garbled Russian curses and loud grunts let me know whatever the fuck this tactic was, was working.

More soldiers swarmed into the room, approaching my position quickly. Bullets were beginning to pierce through the metal, my cover becoming weaker. Loud helicopters rotors from outside the building boomed through the structure, shaking the concrete walls. 

How many reinforcements do these fuckers need?

My pupils dilated into saucers as the table was thrown down, a Russian soldier standing on the other side of it, gun raised at my head. Quickly rolling to the side, I aimed my own rifle, shooting him straight through the skull while narrowly avoiding his own shot. Dust obscured my vision as bullets collided into the ground around my body. 

Scrambling backwards, I stood up, almost stumbling over my own feet as I attempted to steady myself. The tiled floor was painted in a sea of blood, the ground littered with dead soldiers only for more to enter. My eyes narrowed as every every single one dropped to the floor, a cold chill running up my spine. A small clatter caught my attention, my gaze falling to the source.

A grenade rolling at my feet.

In a split second decision, my fingers wrapped around the projectile before flinging it back to its original owner. The explosion erupted mid-air with an abrupt violence, the ceiling raining dust and tiles chipping into pieces, piercing anyone close enough. The shockwave expanded in every direction, my body soon thrown back into the wall behind me.

Loud hacking coughs and screams filtered through the aftermath of the deafening roar. My eyes rapidly blinked away the blinding light in my eyes, black dots swimming in my vision. 

Shakily crawling across the ground, my trembling hands latched onto my rifle before a boot crushed my wrist. A strangled wince fell from my lips, my bones smushed underneath the bodyweight of the bastard looking down at me.

Pulling my lip between my teeth, my narrowed gaze traveled from a pair of legs, to a torso, a neck, all the way up to eyes that were mimicking my own. A low chuckle sounded out from the man above me as a cruel grin curved up his thin lips. My face contorted into one of rage, my jaw clenching as I crunched my waist and kicked my legs to the side.

With widened eyes, his finger squeezed the trigger a moment too late, a blast rattling my eardrums as his bullet collided into the ground just a few inches from my skull. Wrapping my legs around his ankles, I kicked my feet back out, sending him harshly to the ground. 

Other soldiers around us, barely gathering their bearings and weapons, scrambled up as I mercilessly pounded my fists into the man's face, beating it into a bloody pulp.

Bones crunched underneath the force of my knuckles, teeth flew out of the soldier's mouth, blood splattered across my already drenched face. Gasping breaths for air filled the soldier's blood-filled mouth as I ripped the pistol off his thigh and shoved it down his throat, letting him choke on it before squeezing the trigger. 

Panting heavily, my eyes flicked back up, ready for more action before realizing child's play was over. A wall of soldiers encircled me, every gun aimed dead and center between my pinched brows. Baring my teeth, a growl emanated from between them. "Любые последние слова (Any last words)?" A soldier asked me as he crept forward. "I'll be waiting for you," I whispered lowly, promise laced in every word falling from my lips.

With a chuckle, he raised his gun.

My eyes bored into his, a grin still pulling at the corners of my mouth. There wasn't a trace of fear or trepidation to be found on my face, in my body language. My heart hammered against my ribcage, my breathing uneven, coming out in small rasps as I waited for the inevitable. Tipping my chin up, my head slightly nodded, as if to say, fucking do it. 

His finger wrapped around the trigger before a bullet pierced his skull. 

His body dropping to the floor after.

And behind him, breathing heavily,

Ghost.