Prom Ashes to Hope…
Pon Ashes to Hope! Chapter 36
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Just as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the crisis was over, a
Bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, shattering the newly restored silence.
I shuddered in fear, quickly turning my head towards the source of the
In the midst of the chaotic crowd, a woman, like a wild animal, held a
gleaming knife to the throat of another woman.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her face contorted with rage. “Back off!” she
screamed. “Anyone takes another step, and I’ll kill her! Let us go, or she dies!”
The woman being held hostage was pale with terror, her body trembling
uncontrollably, her screams piercing the air. “Help! Help!”
I recognized the woman holding the knife. It was the one who had been
harassed by the scarred guard earlier.
My suspicion was confirmed, she was the traffickers‘ accomplice.
Several traffickers, seeing the situation, quickly picked up their discarded
weapons and cautiously approached the woman.
The woman with the knife, fueled by her hostage’s screams, became even
more frantic. “Drop your weapons!” she shouted at the two undercover officers.”
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Or I’ll kill her right now!”
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The two officers exchanged glances and reluctantly dropped their weapons.
We watched in astonishment.
The traffickers who had picked up their weapons were slowly closing in,
trying to seize more hostages to increase their leverage.
Suddenly, a bullet whizzed through the air, landing near one of the
traffickers‘ feet. They froze, afraid to take another step.
The woman with the knife, her face contorted with rage, screamed, “Is this
how you police disregard the lives of hostages?”
She slashed the girl’s neck with her knife, a deep gash, blood gushing out like
a fountain, the crimson sight horrifying.
I tried to calm myself and think rationally. The bullet that had landed near
the trafficker’s feet must have come from a sniper rifle.
If I could create an opportunity for the sniper to take out the woman, we
could resolve this crisis.
I took a deep breath, as if inhaling all the courage around me.
I slowly raised my hands, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.
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“Look, she’s dying, she’s bleeding so much,” I said to the traffickers, feigning
composure. “If this continues, she’ll definitely die. If she dies, you
won’t escape
either. How about I take her place? Would that work?”
The woman with the knife frowned, a flicker of hesitation in her
eyes.
She scrutinized me, as if assessing if I posed any threat.
Perhaps she thought I looked weak and harmless. She finally nodded and
said impatiently, “Fine, come over quickly, but don’t try anything funny! If you
do, I won’t be polite!”
The tension was suffocating as we exchanged positions, every second
stretching into an eternity.
I took cautious steps towards the trafficker, my heart pounding in my chest,
as if about to leap out of my throat.
Her eyes, like a hungry wolf’s, were fixed on me, the knife still pressed
against the woman’s neck, the bloodstains on the blade glinting menacingly in
the light.
I tried
my best to appear calm, but my palms were slick with sweat.
When I was only half a meter away from her, she slowly loosened her grip
on the woman’s shoulder.
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The woman, losing her support, slumped to the ground like a pile of mud.
I instinctively reached out, pretending to help her up, but i deliberely
stumbled, my body swaying to the side,
The trafficker was startled, her attention diverted. She quickly tried to grab
the woman again.
In that brief moment, the sniper, hidden in the shadows, like a cheetah ready
to pounce, seized his opportunity,
A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence.
The bullet, like a bolt of lightning, tore through the air, hurtling towards the
trafficker.
Her eyes widened in terror, her face frozen in shock. Before she could react,
the bullet pierced her forehead.
Her body jolted, then, like a puppet with its strings cut, she collapsed
backwards, dead.
The traffickers who had been approaching with weapons were stunned by
the sudden gunshot.
Some panicked, raising their weapons and firing wildly, bullets ricocheting
off the walls, filling the air with smoke and dust.
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Others were paralyzed with fear, dropping their weapons, covering their
heads, and cowering on the ground, their bodies trembling like leaves.
Hearing the frantic gunshots, my heart leaped into my throat, and I
instinctively threw myself to the ground.
Bullets whizzed past overhead, the sound deafening.
After a while, the gunshots subsided, leaving only the moans of the
wounded and the cries of those terrified by the scene, a chorus of pain and fear
filling the air.
I slowly raised
my head and saw one of the undercover officers, ignoring his
own bleeding leg wound, pressing down on the injured woman’s wound, trying
to stop the bleeding.
The other officers had quickly subdued the remaining traffickers, their
movements swift and decisive.
Someone rushed over with a first aid kit, tending to the wounded.
As I watched the relief spreading across the faces around me, my ears were
filled with a buzzing sound, the world around me fading into a hazy blur,
everything feeling surreal, like a dream.
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