Conticent

We pushed through the door into the stadium. The atmosphere was electric, with fans cheering and shouting, the roar of excitement echoing off the walls. Players sprinted across the field, the tension clearly noticeable as the game reached its climax. Red team, I didn’t know the name of, was one score behind.

"Shit…" James muttered, scanning the crowd. "How do we even begin to search here?"

"I don’t know… I’ll go right, you left?" I suggested.

"Yeah. Let’s do that. Keep your walkie-talkie on."

"Got it."

I moved cautiously through the rows of seats. The crowd was wild, chanting, cursing the opposing team, throwing water bottles at the pitch—absolute chaos. I was never a football fan, only recognizing the big teams because their names were everywhere: news, ads, you couldn’t escape them in the city.

The ball hit the woodwork, and everyone jumped up before crashing back into their seats in disappointment. I scanned the area, trying to spot anything out of place, but with 85,000 fans in the stadium, it was overwhelming. I just hoped the woman had somehow escaped her attacker in all this mess.

A man shoved my shoulder. "Oi, get your ass outta the way! Can’t see the ball!"

"Sorry," I muttered, quickly hiding my gun behind my coat. "Looking for a friend."

"Kids these days… I swear to god, kids these days! No respect for the game!”

"Man," I whispered, shaking my head as I moved on.

The walkie-talkie crackled. "C, you hear me? This is Leo."

"Yeah," I answered. "What’s up?”

"Restrooms are clear. I’ve got some units outside, and we’re checking the changing rooms now. How’s it going over there?"

"Too many people. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack."

"I’m heading your way as soon as I’m done here.”

"Roger."

As I continued moving, a body suddenly crashed into me from the row above. I hit the ground hard, my gun slipping from my hand. Scrambling to my feet, I saw two men brawling, hurling slurs at each other. One was screaming about sleeping with the other’s mom, while the other blamed the referee for their loss. Shaking my head, I snatched up my gun and pushed on. There were bigger problems to deal with.

The scoreboard flashed 3-2, with only one minute of added time, thirty seconds already gone. The red team had a free kick, and the whole stadium was holding its breath.

"Shit, no sign of him," James' voice came through the walkie-talkie, frustration clear. "This place is too damn big. We can't find him."

"Yeah..." I muttered, eyes still scanning the crowd. "They could be anywhere."

"The match is about to end. Let’s pull back, C. We can’t—"

A piercing scream cut through the air. I whipped my head toward the sound, my heart racing. Two gunshots followed, sharp and unmistakable. But at the same time, the free kick landed, and the stadium exploded with cheers. Fans went crazy, jumping up and down, chanting like that goal had just saved the world.

I pushed forward, trying to get through the crowd, but the fans weren’t budging, still high from the goal. The shots weren’t far from where I was standing—I had to get there fast.

"I heard gunshots," I called into the walkie-talkie. "I’m heading toward it."

"Wait for us!" Leo’s voice was urgent. "Don’t go in alone!"

"No time."

“Fucking—damn it, C!” James yelled. “Wait for us! We’ll get him together!”

I shoved my way through, practically stepping on people to push forward. The crowd was too thick, so I holstered my gun, using my elbows and shoulders to carve a path. I didn't have time for caution. My focus was locked on the direction of the scream. I was close—I could feel it.

"Come on… just a little more…"

Finally reaching a small clearing, I spotted the man grappling with the woman, his gun pointed dangerously close. She was desperately trying to hold off the weapon, but her strength was fading fast. I raised my pistol, aiming at the man’s chest, but I hesitated. They were moving too much. One wrong shot could hit her instead.

Without a second thought, I holstered my gun and sprinted toward them. I threw my full weight into the man, tackling him to the ground. We hit the floor hard, and before he could react, I threw a punch to his face. He grunted, swinging wildly back at me. My fist met his jaw again, but the guy wasn’t giving up. He managed to land a hit on my cheek, making my vision blur for a second.

I fumbled for my pistol, switched the safety on, and slammed the handle into his nose. He cried out in pain, trying to crawl away, but I wasn’t letting him off that easilyeasy. I pinned him down, flipping him onto his stomach and wrenching his arms behind his back.

“You’re under arrest,” I growled, breath ragged. “Stop struggling.”

“Fuck you!” he spat, thrashing beneath me. “Let me go!”

“Stop resisting!” I barked, tightening my grip on his arms.

“Hey, hey! You’re way too rough, man! Stop! You’re hurting me, stop!”

“Then stop resisting. If you do that, I will not hu—”

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain exploded in my neck. I flinched, instinctively reaching up, only to realize too late that another man—a wraith—had bit me. My vision swam for a second, but I forced myself to draw my gun. Before I could get a shot off, he moved faster, grabbing my wrist, taking the gun from me and delivering a strong kick to my chest. The impact sent me sprawling, and the gun fired, grazing my arm as I hit the ground hard.

The wraith lunged at me, but I kicked him back, took my weapon from him and scrambled to my feet. He came at me again, and this time I hit him with the butt of my gun, catching him in the side. He grunted, grabbing my arm, and twisted it. I gritted my teeth, refusing to let go of the weapon, even as pain shot through my shoulder.

“Shit…” I muttered. “Stop! You’re…”

“Ah, shut up!”

We grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand, but he was strong—too strong. He threw me against the seats, and I barely managed to roll out of the way before he could stomp down on my chest.

A fan grabbed me by the shoulders, his face flushed with excitement as he roared "GOAL!" right in my face, shaking me like we were long-lost friends. Before I could react, another fan lit up a flare, casting a red glow over the area. I wriggled out of the fan's grip, turning back to lock eyes with the wraith.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, trying to reason with him, my tone tense.

A smirk curled on his lips, though his hood hung low, obscuring his face. “Heh, I know. But guess what? I’m gonna do it anyway.”

We had to yell in order to be heard. “You’ll get caught in the end. Why delay, huh? Just surrender.”

“We’ll see about that, kid.”

In a flash, he charged at me, landing a solid punch to my jaw. My head snapped back as I stumbled, but I quickly regained my footing. He came at me again, but this time I ducked beneath his kick, feeling the rush of air as it narrowly missed my head. Seizing the moment, I countered with a swift uppercut, my knuckles slamming into his chin with a satisfying crack.

Panting, I swung my leg and tripped him, causing him to stumble. But before I could follow up, the first guy I tackled was back on his feet. He dove for the gun I had made him drop earlier. My heart raced.

"Not good," I muttered.

Just as the wraith aimed at me, the crowd erupted in cheers, jumping and chanting as the game ended. Fans flooded the area, blocking my line of sight. I couldn’t get a clear view, and the chaos only helped the wraiths vanish into the throng of people.

Grabbing the antidote from my coat, I swallowed the pill to counter the wraith's bite. My muscles ached, but I forced myself to move.

“Shit,” I muttered into my walkie-talkie. “Leo, James, do you copy?”

Leo's voice crackled back. “Yeah, where are you?”

"The suspect isn’t alone. I repeat, not alone," I said, scanning the crowd. “They’re getting away. I can’t see them anymore.”

"Forget them!" James' voice came in sharp. “Regroup!”

Leo cut in quickly. “What about the woman? Is she safe?”

Turning around, I spotted her, curled up under a seat, crying. “Yeah, she’s alive. Hurt, but alive.”

“Dispatch, this is 43-47.” James said. “We need 10-52 on the scene. We got one female wounded.”

“Good,” Leo sighed in relief. “That’s the priority. She's safe. What seat row are you in?”

“Uh…” I looked at the number. “345-F.”

“Alright. We’re coming your way.”

I took a deep breath, holstering my gun. “What a shitshow…”