It was a horrible, rainy night. The torrential downpour drowned out the sound of shouting, guns, and destruction as an empty school building was ravaged by bullets and wildly flying desks and chairs. The chaos went on for the space of ten minutes before there was relative silence.
A fully armed and armored officer dug himself out of the dry wall and haplessly scrambled forward only to be sent into the other wall, this time colliding face first with a meaty thud against the brick. He didn't have time to stumble back and fall on his ass before dark-sleeved arms wrapped around him and pulled him down the hallway, jerking his head sideways. Elizabeth hastily pulled his collar down and chomped into his neck with inhuman canine fangs. She grimaced and hesitated briefly as blood escaped from her lips and trickled down, but continued to bite down and drink deep till the pounding in her head subsided. Not even a sound out of him. Already unconscious. Better that way.
A wave of SWAT officers filed into the corridor, guns at the ready and trained on Elizabeth. She spat out a misty cloud of blood when she heard them arrive. Her emerald eyes darted about the floor, then to the broken wall. Damn it! The gun was left in the wall. Even though it felt like there was no escape this time, she defiantly held onto her hostage and tried to keep cover behind him. Her legs and her breathing shook as she slowly retreated back, eyes flitting from the wall, to the floor, to the crowd, searching for a way out... but these guys were talented, and clever. Way to clever for her to outsmart and outrun. She could already hear footsteps tromping somewhere behind her. This wasn't the SWAT team. They wore unmarked uniforms. They were something else. Mercenaries. Soldiers in someone's pocket. But... something was strange. If they wanted her dead, they've have shot her by now.
"You can give up now, Ms. Hazelquist," spoke a gruff voice through a radio. Elizabeth looked askance at the crowd, the origin of the voice. She swallowed hard, the taste of warm blood still clinging at the back of her throat making her shudder with mild disgust. She took time to steady her breathing, and the static cue of the radio came on again.
"You're a dangerous woman, Ms. Hazelquist. Dangerous and incredibly elusive." He sounded... mildly impressed. Elizabeth stubbornly held her ground, listening closely.
"But, your criminal record leaves you dead to rights. Three counts of murder, six suspected murders, grand theft auto, countless instances of assault-"
"Shut up!" Elizabeth shouted, "I don't need you reading off my sins!" The outburst unsettled her assailants, almost bringing them to open fire. The assumed leader held up his closed fist, a signal to hold, and they all stopped, then shuffled back into position. Elizabeth was startled at first, trembling with anger and hurt, gritting her teeth and digging her fingers into the unconscious officer's black uniform.
There was an impatient sigh from the radio. "I want you to think hard about this, Ms. Hazelquist. You are dangerous, but you could be useful if you're dangerous to the right people. Do you understand where this is going?"
Elizabeth frowned and turned her eyes away from the crowd. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, then she nodded, and then mustered the will to respond. "Yes," she said, her bitterness apparent by even one word.
"Yes. I want you on my payroll. If you're willing to play nice and be a team player, I will help give you your life back." Elizabeth scoffed in disbelief, but held her tongue.
Something was messed up about this offer. Again, he could've ordered her dead if he wanted and she'd be gone, and no one would care. Her parents would maybe mourn briefly for their lost child, but Elizabeth figured they stopped giving a shit after she escaped from the psych ward. Elizabeth scrunched up her face in frustration. She didn't want to give in to anyone's demands for some likely bullshit gift of amnesty.
The static cue of the radio came on again, breaking her train of thought. "You know," the man said, "If you play your cards right, not only will that criminal record disappear, but you might even be hailed as a hero. I'm sure you'd much rather be seen as a hero than a monster."
Elizabeth tensed up briefly, then swung her head around to the crowd that began to surround her on all sides. All guns pointed at her, the red dots of laser sights covering her. She couldn't fight this.
It was a subtle cue of resignation, her long, tired sigh. She tossed away the unconscious officer in her arms, who fell limp to the floor.
"...I'm listening," she responded.
The swarm quickly surrounded her.
A door shut down the hall from Dixie, and in front of it stood a girl in dark street clothes. Elizabeth Hazelquist didn't command much of a presence at 5'8", and her dark apparel made her appear even more pale than she really was. The only thing that made her stand out was the directed gaze of her emerald eyes, holding some kind of unseen power. Elizabeth almost stepped away from her door, but she stopped midstep with her hand on the knob when she noticed Dixie. Elizabeth's gaze was then directed straight at her.
Elizabeth chuckled to herself and shook her head. Poor girl, so hopeful about this mess. Credit for the optimism, but Elizabeth had a good few reasons why it may never work.
"So I guess the new recruits are filing in, huh," she's says barely loud enough to be heard, "They're really at the end of their rope if they brought us in."
Elizabeth let her hand slip from the door and looked a little more 'closely' at Dixie. What else was she thinking?