The Adventures Of Marsellus Gustov Ch. 3 Read Count : 112

Category : Stories

Sub Category : Adventure

Chapter Three: Reckoning

Daydreams faded in and out, giving Marsellus a blurred line between present and past in his mind. He needed to seat himself, and fast. The signs were coming back all too quickly, and it was usually not a good sign if such things made themselves known to the public. Heavy breathing and eyes darting, he sat himself upon the ledge of a large fountain in a park and attempted to catch his breath. It had been close to a week since his last episode like this and he needed to calm himself down.

Stress-related incidents lead to many side-effects coming on: Telekinetic anomolae, headaches released from psychokinetic brain activity, rare cases of nosebleeds, telepathic communication, flashback episodes recurring in rapid frequency, and enhanced senses. This were the markers that let Marsellus know when he was having one of his episodes. The whispers started first this time, people around him inadvertantly sharing their deepest current thoughts to himin a cacophony of voices.


'Calm down,' Marsellus thought to himself, breathing slower and deeper in a trial to calm his fast heartbeat that dared to thrum right in his ears. His vision blurred as people moved about in slow motion, lights growing brighter than usual and his senses heightened. He could feel everything in these moments, and calming his breathing helped to control his episodes some as they usually marked danger about. He would need all of his attention and munition in the coming moments. His ears picked up on the small static voices of radio earpieces.

"Alpha Team, target has been sighted. Fountain on Broad Street, just a block ahead and resting. Exercise extreme caution when approaching."

"Roger. Alpha Team engaging."

Marsellus deep blue eyes grew cold in their gaze as he looked upon the reason he had to leave his home in the first place. The men in suspicious suits and earpieces, obvious signs of employees in some umderground organization that needed to try and come after him for some reason. 'Area 51' looking men that made The Matrix's main antagonist look like a hobo.

Marsellus sprung into action, hopping up after a moment of focus and sprinting around the fountain and down the street, moving away from them to gain some distance from them. His speed was just a bit faster than normal, his wind blowing a few lone pieces of paper into the air while he ran for his life. The voices all assaulted him, people looking at him weird while casting their thoughts on the 'weirdo' that was running away like something was trying to set his pants on fire.

He dared not look back, nor did he need to. He could still hear the voices through the earpieces, meaning they were still too close for comfort for Marsellus. Buildings blurred by his vision, a single drop of rain fell in slow motion by his head, causing him to look to it for but a split second. The men had caught up all too quickly to be remotely human... One jumped in attempts to grab him.

Quick thinking, he sprung into action as well. Jumping into a tuck, he sprung his foot out and landed on his back to guide the perpetrator over him. Now using the momentum of the leap to regain his footing just as his enemy landed on his back on the other side, another made strides behind him to close the distance. But Marsellus acted just in time to deflect a punch to the side, using his forearm to spin his opponent around and come up with a knee to the top of his spine and push him away as well.

Two-on-one once more, Marsellus was surrounded on both sides as his opponents got up, causing him to back into an alleyway just behind him to get a bit of distance from his foes, even if but only for a moment. His eyes darted back and forth, his brain processing the surroundings he could see, and perceiving what could be behind him before picking up a metal pole that was beside him. A firm grip marked his readiness to utilize such a makeshift weapon just when the men in suits ran at him simultaneously.

Marsellus was quick with his movements, keeping the bar betwixt himself and them before using their force against them, tossing them against a wall before racing deeper down the alleyway in a dead sprint. It was all he could do to keep them off of him at this point as the headaches threatened to surface again with a life draining throb. His knees buckled and caused him to fall to all fours. And a quick grab at one of his wrists kicked in his instincts, causing him to spin and trip his enemy before delivering a lethal kick to the jaw of his downed opponent and effectively knocking him out.

He got up again and ran, not getting far before the other suited man rushed him and took him down with a barreling assault that knocked them down together. Luckily Marsellus caught him and flipped him up and over again. Quickly getting back up, he skidded forward and ended the battle with another kick that landed on the man's right temple. However, the fight took too much out of him to get up for a moment.

It was in this moment of rest that static once more was broken on the earpieces and allowed audio on the other end:

"Alpha Team, status report. Have tou taken down the target?"

Marsellus' reprieve was far from over. If there was an alpha team, what about others? He picked up at that moment of whispers about a block ahead. His rest was over... Picking himself up, he rushed on down the alleyway and headed forth, hoping he could lose them in the nighttime crowd. 

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