If Sonitus could compare himself to any animal, he would instantly think crocodile. Cold, emotionless, silent. Most importantly, patient. All his plans required that one aspect. Everything he had envisioned for his future was entirely dependent on patience. However, currently he found himself extremely doubting his ability to wait.

The unlit warehouse made for an excellent hiding place. The shadows hid row upon row of boxes and shelves, some sort of wheelchair company. There were spare wheels, engine parts, even an entire section designated for the seat cushions. But he wasn't interested in using wheelchair parts. They were far more useful as objects to hide behind. He was currently situated within an empty box, silently waiting until his pursuers moved on. Yet they chose to stay, slowly walking the dark space in hopes of finding him. What was even more annoying, was that their leader was monologuing. The fool was probably spouting some crap about joining him and gaining power and influence, though he couldn't be sure since he didn't understand the language they were using. While he appreciated the fact he could hear approximately where the man was, he did find it irksome that he was being chased by such an idiot. If it weren't for the fact he'd give himself away, he almost felt like shouting out to the man to make him stop. He never got why people ranted like that. It was a waste of energy, and always ended up bad for the speaker. His train of thought was interrupted as one of the cronies walked past his hiding spot.

Quickly kicking his leg out, he made the man trip. Before the henchman could make a noise, Sonitus quickly covered the mans mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sharp knife and quickly slit the mans throat. The body was discarded inside the box he had hid in before he continued to a different location.

He didn't entirely know why these men were after him, although he did have several guesses. Perhaps he eavesdropped on the wrong person, and was discovered. Perhaps this was some revenge plot for a blackmail from long ago. Either way, he planned to eliminate these fools before they could do the same to him. He continued down the empty isle, careful to keep his footsteps as silent as possible. As he approached the end, he could hear another guards heavy footfalls coming near. He increased his pace, trying to avoid being detected. He didn't reach the corner a moment too soon, for as he whipped himself around the corner, he slammed straight into one of his pursuers. They both hit the ground as a result of the impact, but he moved first. Throwing his knife, it landed right between the mans eye. Two down, several more to go. He started towards the man in order to retrieve his knife when there was suddenly a loud crash. Apparently that first guard was not as securely hidden as he had anticipated. Loud running could be heard. It was coming from multiple directions, he was nearly surrounded. Looking around, he saw only one option ... run.

Sonitus quickly darted down the path that he calculated to be the way they weren't coming from yet. A few sharp turns later and he had found himself at a door. Kicking it open, he entered what appeared to be a staircase. He heard shouting behind him, the loud sound of the door being kicked open no doubt giving him away. Without thought he bolted up the stairs. No doubt this lead to an office of some kind. As he reached the top of the stairs, his guess was right. He quickly ran into the unlit room, and found a nice desk to hide under as far from the door as he could. A precursory examination of the place showed that the only way out was either the door he had come from, or a window leading to a painful drop onto hard asphalt. He had thought of trying to run down the stairs before they could arrive, but it was too late. A loud stomping noise indicated they had arrived.

As the thugs entered the room, the leader started talking again. He resisted the urge to sigh at the gesture. The sounds of the thugs grew nearer, and if he guessed, they likely had one posted at the door. Even if he managed to slay the nearest one, he'd still be stuck. He was about to make his move when he found himself being pulled out of his hiding place. Apparently one of the thugs was a lot more quiet than he had anticipated. He reached into his pocket to pull out his knife, only to find it wasn't there. Shit. He'd left it in the head of the last thug. Despite his best efforts to escape, he was simply overpowered by the man. The thug shouted out to the others, and he found himself being dragged towards the leader. 

However, they didn't stop to kill him in the room. Idiots. If he was in charge, he'd have killed himself right when he was found. Apparently they were going to take him outside and shoot him into a dumpster. Idiots, total freaking idiots. These were less of thugs and more like baboons given big sticks. Nevertheless, he would end up dead either way. With no weapon, and not enough strength to overpower the two holding him, or wriggle free, he was stuck. The leader cruel smirked before pulling out a gun. There was a loud bang, a burst of pain, then the feeling of soaring through the air before his body landed in the garbage. Frankly, his last moments weren't of 'I don't want to die'. The were filled with regret ... of being killed by such idiots. It was extremely embarrassing to have failed that badly.

As his blood oozed out into the garbage, he began to focus more on the pain. It felt like something was poking him in the back, probably a chunk of cardboard or something. Trying to make his death at least more comfortable, he tried moving his hand around to find something soft. Maybe on old diaper, or a junk towel. Anything soft would do just fine. However, he couldn't move his hand, and he felt himself growing weak. Things started to get dark, and he felt really ... tired. His vision became unfocused, which was rather pointless as there wasn't much to see other than the top of the dumpster. His thoughts became less coherent as he faded ... his last thought being 'This really ... sucks'