Heart of Madness (With story)

Amazing story written by my amazing, gorgeous and fantastic partner
❤❤ doctorklein ❤❤
Character belong to: nopolopolous
Art by me

Hanan stared out the side of the helicopter as dark fields flew by down below. The moonlight cast just enough of a glow so that the ground wasn’t just an endless black void, but still it was dark enough for Hanan’s purposes. She wasn’t strapped in, for part of her didn’t really care if she fell to her death from this stealthy black bird; her only regret would be that the mission ahead would never be completed.

And speaking of, the chopper slowed to a hover, and descended rapidly. Hanan stood, slinging her pack on, and held one of the straps attached to the ceiling to keep herself steady. At about six feet above the ground, without a word to anyone, she hopped out. Falling for a second, she bent her knees and landed softly in the tall grasses, and felt a strong rush of downward air as the helicopter immediately started gaining altitude again. She watched as it headed back the way it came.

So she set off on foot toward the quiet compound ahead. It was nearly as black as the night, as one of the favors she’d called in was to have the power cut to this entire area. There was even a cover story if someone in the compound called to check: they would be told that a blown transformer had knocked out power in a couple of square miles.

While they bumbled around in the dark, Hanan had work to do. She crept toward the twelve-foot wall surrounding the whole place, and crouched near the thick stone. Taking off her pack, she retrieved an innocuous looking package, and laid it carefully against the wall. Then, she hurried away, moving around to the opposite end of the compound, where she knew the main office building shared two of the outside walls.

Here, she withdrew a length of cord, which looked like red plastic partially covered by V-shaped segments of silver colored metal. Carefully and quietly, she stuck the cord to the wall, creating the rough shape of a door. Then she retreated back again, and pulled a small remote from her pack, and pressed a red button.

Simultaneously, two explosions sounded, one somewhat muffled where she placed the shaped charge, and a much louder detonation on the other end of the compound, which Hanan hoped would be far more noticeable.

She headed forward immediately, looking through the dust cloud where she now had a convenient door-shaped entrance to the office, and spied within someone stumbling around. It was a young man, a hyena she thought, and he seemed to have been nearby when the blast happened, and was severely dazed. As she grew closer, slinking low in the grass, she saw blood coming from his right ear. Well, perhaps he wouldn’t hear her coming, then…

When Hanan reached six feet from the skinny guy, she pounced, wrapping one arm around his throat and pulling back on his forehead to give her the best grip. He cried out immediately, and both of his hands reached for her forearm, attempting to pull it downward and away from his neck. But she applied pressure just like she’d done a dozen times or more, and right away the bloodflow to his brain was severely hampered as her arm flexed across his throat. He gasped and choked, trying harder to free himself, but Hanan held fast. She moved her other arm around the side of his face, so that she was reaching around his head to grab the back of it. Then she spoke, in a quiet growl.

“You won’t understand this. But you deserve this death.” He struggled even harder now, clearly terrified, but it was too late for him. In one motion, Hanan twisted his head, using her leverage to turn it far to the left, and as it twisted so far he was nearly looking backwards, she felt the satisfying series of loud pops, and felt his neck break under her firm grip. He twitched, convulsing, but he was already gone, and his arms slackened to hang limply as she now held him up.

Setting him gently down, Hanan looked down at his face, wide-eyed and surprised, probably unaware of what had happened to him. It was strange; she had never been one to chat with her targets, nor spout odd one-liners, but this of course was no ordinary mission. This was closure, and she was going to savor it.

There was a commotion in one of the other rooms, and she wanted to avoid that. Her real target would be upstairs, and if she wanted to live through this warm night, she would do well to avoid detours. She knew this place inside and out, and knew exactly where she needed to go to reach the back staircase.

So slinking in the darkness, she headed out of the little room she’d come into, and down a small hallway toward a stairwell. Hanan set off up the cracked stone stairs, and was about halfway up at a landing when she nearly ran into a large tiger bounding down from the second floor. Inhaling sharply, she noticed him at the same time he saw her, and before she could draw a weapon, he set upon her with all of his might, pinning her up against the cold wall.

She fought back, scratching and kicking, and leveraged herself out of danger, pushing him back against the railing and trying to buy a second to draw a gun or knife. But he was wary of this, for he kept hold of her hands as they danced a quiet struggle back and forth. Hanan knew he could cry out and alert others to her presence, but he was too focused on survival, which was smart; one wrong move on either of their parts would surely result in a bloodbath.

Hanan took the chance to draw a combat knife, but he also took an opportunity; kicking her legs out from under her so she fell on her back, he pinned her there. They continuously struggled for dominance, and Hanan was able to free the knife and slash as his face, causing him to rear back.

And that was the fatal mistake. Using his off-balance position, she forced him backwards and onto his back, where she straddled his pelvis all in one fluid motion. He made to call out for help now, but the knife was still in her hand, and she plunged it into his throat, just above his ribcage. The yell died before it could leave his mouth, and he stared up at her, mouth wide and eyes bulging. She sank the knife further into him, downward toward his heart, and she knew his Aorta had been severed. That look on his face dulled almost instantly as all the fight left him. He fell slack, and she left the knife buried in him, stroking his face.

There was an excitement in this despite all the risk, and she couldn’t help but feel intense rushes of pleasure every time she extinguished one of these fuckers. They had caused her years of suffering…It was like she was exorcising all of those demons in the most violent way possible. But now that she really looked at him, his vacant expression and still chest, she recognized him. This was one of the right-hand men…And he’d been in those photographs that were taken on the night of the attempted coup. He’d been right there, next to her dear husband, and her innocent daughter…

Hanan’s face hardened, and she yanked the knife out of him as he bled out on the landing. Turning her attention upward towards the third floor, it didn’t appear anyone had heard this silent tussle. So she took a deep breath, and headed off.

There weren’t any other nasty surprises on the stairs, and other than having to hide for a moment when she saw someone run past the door to the second floor. But then she set off again, and reached the third story, where a single, large room lay behind a closed door. Drawing her suppressed pistol, she took a deep breath, and then kicked the door open.

Inside were two people, a rugged lion near a big table in the middle of the command center, and a jaguar significantly closer. They both looked up in utter surprise, and Hanan wasted no time. She leveled her pistol at the jaguar and fired, hitting him square in the forehead and sending him crumpling to the floor. Then, she raised her weapon at the lion, who froze in the process of reaching for a revolver on the table.

“Hands in the air,” she snarled at him. “Unless you want to end up like your friend.”

Slowly, staring her right in the face, he raised his hands, as if calculating what was going on.

“Hanan?” He spoke like he was addressing an old friend. “What are you doing?”

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” Hanan growled, stepping forward and closing the distance between them. “I’ve come for you.”

He shook his head, as if not understanding, but she wasn’t fooled. This was likely just a ploy to get her to drop her guard.

“I’ve never considered you an enemy,” he said, skirting around the table to keep a distance between them. “Why are you doing this?”

At that, Hanan fired, deliberately missing and shattering a window behind him. “Shut up!” Her voice cracked from pure rage as he flinched. “Just shut your fucking mouth! I’ve come for you, John…Like a tidal wave of vengeance. You’re going to pay for what you did to my family…”

But he just kept shaking his head, eyebrows raised, as if he had no idea what was going on. “Fine,” Hanan snarled, and with a free hand, she dug into one of her pockets, withdrawing an old photograph portrait of herself, her husband, and daughter. She flung it at him, and it landed at his feet. He bent to retrieve it, and reviewed it in the dim light.

And finally, his eyes grew wide, and the color seemed to flee from his face as he looked back up, straight at the barrel of her silenced 9mm. “These…They were your family?”

Hanan nodded, deadly silent.

“Hanan,” he said urgently, putting his hands out toward her in a placating sort of surrender now that he finally realized the situation. “You don’t understand…It was a terrible mistake…”

“Turn around,” she demanded. “Face the window, put your hands behind your back. Unless you want to take a bullet right now.”

Given that nugget of hope, he complied, still stammering out apologies and excuses. Hanan rushed forward, and retrieved a ziptie, binding his hands behind his back.

“You’ll never leave here alive if you kill me,” he said.

“Drop your pants.”

“W-What?”

Making a show of cocking the slide of the pistol even though it was loaded, she repeated herself. “Drop. Your fucking. Pants.”

Finally, reluctantly, he did so, still muttering placations at her. He left his boxers on, and she helped him out by ripping them down as well. Once they were completely off, she tossed them out the window, before drawing her knife to cut his shirt off as well. Then, stark nude with his cock hanging in the breeze, she marched him right up to the large, broken window overlooking the main compound. Some people down below had noticed, and were looking up. To better make the point, Hanan removed her suppressor and fired three shots in the air to get the rest of the fuckers down there to pay attention.

“Please, Hanan,” John said urgently, a light wind ruffling his mane. He was looking over his shoulder at her as his naked body faced the small crowd below. “It was a huge mistake. I had no idea they were your-”

“Let me tell you something, John,” she said, whispering in his ear while wrapping her arm around to grip the side of his jaw. “Murdering a six-year-old isn’t a mistake. I’ll see you in hell.”

She grabbed the other side of his head, pistol still in hand, and yanked as hard as she could. Using every ounce of strength, she turned his head backward with a loud crack, and a sickened expression crossed his face for a just a second before it dulled to the gaze of death that filled a hole deep in her heart. She pushed him forward, and he tumbled out of the window, falling for several seconds before landing with a whump down below.

Hanan was breathing hard, and she pulled out a radio. Time would only tell if tonight would leave her feeling better or worse in the long run.

“Crusader here,” she said into the radio. “Ready for extrication on the office roof.”