Texter Eps34


Timmy won every game. He kept winning till there was no place he was going to keep his money and he was careful not to speak out of turn. He could see they were all angry for no reason. 

The board was now slower at pushing him his cash and soon he knew the guys around him were running out of cash one after the other. He stopped after a while and he laid off his cards, declaring his motive of opting out.  

He looked left to confirm if the guy who had earlier held up briefcase for display was still around. A little tap and the guy was running over. He lowered his height and Timmy whispered into his ears. He picked up one bunch of cash and he pulled out a pile of cash for him. The guy dropped him one brief case and he returned to the corner of the room where he stood earlier. 

Timmy loaded the brief case with cash and he watched around with the side of his eyes knowing the game had stopped. Distinct sound of people murmuring filled his ear but he ignored. Soon he was done with loading the brief case and as he attempted standing to his feet. He felt a thick hand run around his, with so much pressure that he couldn't lift up the brief case. 

"Where do you think you are going?" The guy asked. 

"My house." Timmy replied hurriedly. He forgot the fact that the guy was twice himself. The guy was a double of him, in both height and weight. He pulled the guy closer by his wrist and he sent his head into his face. He caught him with a quicker pace and he hauled him overhead, sending him to crash on the long table that hosted the cards. 

Timmy let down his brief case close to his feet and he pulled his fist for combat. He knew what he was against so he got ready to take anyone down. The other side of the hall had gone silent they all had eyes on them. 

He gave a quick count and their numbers gave him quick satisfaction. He came against the first guy  that came for him with his feet. He watched him slip and he came against his face with his kneel. He detected a quick movement on his right and he swung his briefcase east wing with his feet. Someone got hold of him from behind, sending his arms helpless. He eyes closed up forcefully as he felt a hard fist hit him on the side of his head. He struggled to open up before his face would get broken and he kicked against the guy in front of him who was ready to tear down his stomach. 

His hands were still fixed and the quickest way to get free was use his legs. He felt his legs go off the ground and he knew he was about to be sent to the ground or against something that could break his bones. He swung his right leg upward till he heard a split under his trouser and he sent the guy behind him a power kick. 

He crashed lightly into the ground and he came up quickly with his fist drawn. He wiped his nose desperately and he caught the punch coming for his face on the wrist. He gave the wrist a hard twist to the left and he watched the guy scream out his throat. 

Literally he had touched them all and he watched them regroup. They came for him and he made sure he registered a hit on every one of them. The fight kept on and soon more people join the fight. He got weak and they got more leverage. It didn't take long when he got caught and his back was slammed against the wall. Five guys went for him and they began to feed his stomach and face with blows. He tried raising a shield for his face but his stomach was left unguarded. He broke away and he was sent back to the ground by a more muscular man. He was held on the neck with his back pinned against the wall. He felt the struggle in his lungs as the trapped air fought for an escape route. His visions began to go blur and soon he felt death was next window. 

The doors broke open and he found himself hitting the ground.

All he heard was "freeze!!! Freeze!! Its the police." His lid flicked close and he went blank.

┬ęGodwin Okhuoya