In the End, It's about Who Holds the Cards

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I've learned over my long years that no one ever gets away with everything, that their luck runs out and it WILL run out in the exact moment you hope it doesn't.

Here we are in my moment, well one of many after my streak of luck turned Black and sour. Although this time it ended without the removal another part of my body.

They were smart to take my hands away along with the Talisman, and to prevent me from speaking. But they should of done more research on Vole as I am far from being a one trick pony.

In a single moment four guards escorting Tayton through a long hallway and towards certain death were shown exactly why he had eluded so many do so long. A quick drop backwards almost as if he was falling backwards and he sent both elbows plunging into the optics that the guards behind were wearing.

Both guards stagger for a moment before raising their weapons and level each pointing at Tayton, a single squeeze from each and a burst of bullets surged. Bringing his arms up and bringing his restraints in the bullets line, the first burst shatters the cuffs that had him shackled. They joints of the cuffs falling to the ground. Before the heap of cuffs hot the ground Tayton Grand a single piece as a weapon. Throwing it into the same spot the had destroyed the optics of one guard, the guard roars in pain as he begins to shoot wildly where Tayton had been.

Moving quickly he spins himself behind a guard to his right and waits as he takes the gunfire. The pat pat of bullets hitting bulletproof vest sounds, he knew it hadn't killed the guard but it gave him the moment he needed. Reacting fast he pulls the side arm from the bruised guards side and pulls the trigger four times a aiming carefully. Two bullets for the blinded guard and the second who was still trying to reel from busted optics. Each bullet aimed for the Optic or what remained. The broken optics were the only week spot in the guards armor and both dropped as the bullets rattled around in their skulls.

Arm wrapped around the dazed guards neck he moved fast pushing him forward into the fourth guard, pinning him to the wall behind. He hasn't moved fast enough and the guard pulled his side arm and fired twice point blank into Tayton face. Tayton feel to the ground with a wild thud. As he hit his face mask that was preventing him from speaking fell to pieces.

The guards staggered in disbelief, moving closer find drawn. "Always double tap..." echoed from Tayton and the words formed just above his face and formed into two long pieces that plunged deep into both guards cleaving over of them hadh in two from the Optic.

The last guard screamed as the piece hadn't made it all the way through just enough to blind and cause excruciating pain. Dropping to the floor as he screamed he soon felt the pressure of Tayton stepping on the piece he had plunged into his face as he spoke "My effects?" the guard didn't even try to hold out on the information. Pulling the Talisman from a pouch on his waist, Tayton nodded and thanked him as he stomped down splitting the man's skull like a watermelon.

Placing the Talisman around his neck he looked out the nearby window and found he was once again in Gothic City or what remained. But this time he was curious as to who wished him dead so bad, and who had made the mossie of not killing him the moment they hot the drop on him.

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