@Treue? Any light at the end of the tunnel?
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Perfectly Broken
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8 yrs ago
It’s none of my business what people say of me and think of me. I am what I am and I do what I do. I expect nothing and accept everything. And it makes life so much easier.
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“There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope. We give them a turn and they make new and curious combinations. We keep on turning and making new combinations indefinitely; but they are the same old pieces of colored glass that have been in use through all the ages.”
- Mark Twain
- Mark Twain
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So, I don't remember if we had covered this, but what is the typical rules of engagement regarding NPCs and named NPCs (i.e. Tr’ann Dasheer)
I assume unnamed we can fully control in our posts, but named maybe only slightly if need be, without actually kill them off?
I assume unnamed we can fully control in our posts, but named maybe only slightly if need be, without actually kill them off?
Time seemed to be at a standstill as the only ally Gavon could now count on was patience. The comm crackled on once again, directing Enforcer One to move up past the Milano and standby for the completion of their inspection. Keeping tabs on the ship’s lifesigns became futile, as the Station’s jamming efforts kept away any further scanning attempts. E-V slowly maneuvered the ship toward the checkpoint marked on their navigation panel, until a sudden anomaly appeared across their sensor sweep. The Agent turned to the flashing console and noticed spikes in energy patterns coming from the smuggler’s ship, focused primarily on the interior…
“Well, that is no biological lifesign. Engine malfunctions, perhaps?” He raised a suspicious eyebrow, pressing a few buttons to fine tune the sweep. “E-V, hold position and continuing honing in on the energy bursts.”
Gavon slid over to the communication console and opened a channel to Flight Control once again. “Enforcer One to Control, there seems to be some energy distortion coming from the interior of the Milano, do you copy?”
He waited for as long as he could with no response, before continuing. “Control, do you copy? There-...”
A crackled reply came over the comms, their voice seemed a bit frantic and unsure. “Enforcer One, we copy, and the situation is being taken care of. S-stand by for further instructions...”
“Situation? What ‘situation’?” He cut in, looking back out through the front viewport toward the target ship still docked.
“Sir, it appears the station’s ion cannon is currently locked on the Milano.” The EV droid quickly interjected, as she continued monitoring the Milano’s status. “Also, several more energy signatures resembling blaster rifle discharges were detected coming from their interior”
“Dammit, apparently their ‘routine inspection’ is becoming anything but. As long as they are docked and targeted, that ship isn’t going anywhere.”
The Agent reopened a secure channel to Control, his voice stern and flat. “Control, we are picking up multiple blaster fire within their interior. I need a status report. Now!”
The comm crackled to life again, and silence hung for a few moments before the frantic voice started spouting off. “Their crew has been separated. Two of which were being brought onto the station for questioning. Then Troopers were suddenly being attacked on the ship. A handful have been killed or injured. We aren’t sure how many are in on this, but whatever the case, they are good and- ”
The channel cut off abruptly, only to return with another’s voice, which sounded tinny and slightly muffled.
“If that is all you have, I suggest giving up. ”
Agent TreVayne ended the channel communication, and stepped over to the holocommand console. “E-V, I need you to pull up the schematics of the Milano.” As he continued speaking, a glowing light-blue skeletal version of the target ship materialized on the holoprojector, slowly rotating. “I need to find the closest hatch to our side, that we can connect with.”
A few mere nanoseconds passed before the droid was able to pinpoint a hatch that was near the stern on the starboard side, which would land them at the cargo deck. Gavon looked it over closely, approximating the distance they would need to be in order to successfully connect to the hatch.
“E-V move us into position, and then extend the tunnel when you’re close enough to attach.”
The Agent quickly moved over to the weapon’s locker along the wall, keying in the unlock code, and opening the door to reveal an assortment of firearms, vibro & energy blades, various small ion & stun grenades, and a satchel of debilitating traps and triggers. He grabbed his armoured long coat and slipped it on, buckling the front straps in, and securing the many pockets. The coat, lined with plates of plastoid and cortosis, hung to about knee length, protecting mostly from short & medium range plasma bolts, and various energy melee weapons. It also offered some protection from heat and flame, and allowed for maximum movement, especially in tight spaces.
He grabbed two of his DH-17 blaster pistols, modified to be lighter, and less cumbersome their their older models, and three small energy blades he slipped into the sheaths across his chest. Gavon looked through the satchel of explosives, and traps, quickly organizing them to fit more securely into the bag, which he then strapped to his belt.
“Sir, we are in position, and the tunnel extension is on it’s way to connect and seal with the Milano’s cargo hatch.”
“Excellence.” He said, fastening the small datapad to his wrist, and heading for the airlock.
“Sir, the tunnel has connected and sealed. You have a green light to open the airlock.”
Gavon keyed in the airlock release code, and a moment later the door slid open, revealing the narrow conduit ahead. He’d only ever used this method once, back with Imperial Intelligence, but he knew there was no other way to keep some semblance of surprise. The Agent slowly walked up to the cargo hatch, examining the outer control panel next to the door, and spoke into his comm.
“E-V, override control relay CR-319-0” He said, crouching next to the flashing console.
“Negative Agent, there appears to be a block from any remote interference. You’ll need to interface directly with the console. I will send you the proper override codes”
Gavon slid the interface cable out from his wrist console, and snapped it into the port just below the hatches controls. The screen on his console lit up, and a series of encrypted numbers, letters, and symbols scrolled at a rapid pace until it stopped, awaiting a command. The Agent punched in the proper override codes, and after a few moments, the airlock seals released and the hatch slid open, revealing a low lit corridor with another door at the end.
Gavon took in a deep breath and pulled one of his blasters from the holster.
“E-V, keep an eye out will ya? I don’t need any surprises.” He said, as he stepped onto the Milano, and slowly crept down the corridor.
“I shall keep two eyes out for you Agent...”
“Well, that is no biological lifesign. Engine malfunctions, perhaps?” He raised a suspicious eyebrow, pressing a few buttons to fine tune the sweep. “E-V, hold position and continuing honing in on the energy bursts.”
Gavon slid over to the communication console and opened a channel to Flight Control once again. “Enforcer One to Control, there seems to be some energy distortion coming from the interior of the Milano, do you copy?”
He waited for as long as he could with no response, before continuing. “Control, do you copy? There-...”
A crackled reply came over the comms, their voice seemed a bit frantic and unsure. “Enforcer One, we copy, and the situation is being taken care of. S-stand by for further instructions...”
“Situation? What ‘situation’?” He cut in, looking back out through the front viewport toward the target ship still docked.
“Sir, it appears the station’s ion cannon is currently locked on the Milano.” The EV droid quickly interjected, as she continued monitoring the Milano’s status. “Also, several more energy signatures resembling blaster rifle discharges were detected coming from their interior”
“Dammit, apparently their ‘routine inspection’ is becoming anything but. As long as they are docked and targeted, that ship isn’t going anywhere.”
The Agent reopened a secure channel to Control, his voice stern and flat. “Control, we are picking up multiple blaster fire within their interior. I need a status report. Now!”
The comm crackled to life again, and silence hung for a few moments before the frantic voice started spouting off. “Their crew has been separated. Two of which were being brought onto the station for questioning. Then Troopers were suddenly being attacked on the ship. A handful have been killed or injured. We aren’t sure how many are in on this, but whatever the case, they are good and- ”
The channel cut off abruptly, only to return with another’s voice, which sounded tinny and slightly muffled.
“If that is all you have, I suggest giving up. ”
Agent TreVayne ended the channel communication, and stepped over to the holocommand console. “E-V, I need you to pull up the schematics of the Milano.” As he continued speaking, a glowing light-blue skeletal version of the target ship materialized on the holoprojector, slowly rotating. “I need to find the closest hatch to our side, that we can connect with.”
A few mere nanoseconds passed before the droid was able to pinpoint a hatch that was near the stern on the starboard side, which would land them at the cargo deck. Gavon looked it over closely, approximating the distance they would need to be in order to successfully connect to the hatch.
“E-V move us into position, and then extend the tunnel when you’re close enough to attach.”
The Agent quickly moved over to the weapon’s locker along the wall, keying in the unlock code, and opening the door to reveal an assortment of firearms, vibro & energy blades, various small ion & stun grenades, and a satchel of debilitating traps and triggers. He grabbed his armoured long coat and slipped it on, buckling the front straps in, and securing the many pockets. The coat, lined with plates of plastoid and cortosis, hung to about knee length, protecting mostly from short & medium range plasma bolts, and various energy melee weapons. It also offered some protection from heat and flame, and allowed for maximum movement, especially in tight spaces.
He grabbed two of his DH-17 blaster pistols, modified to be lighter, and less cumbersome their their older models, and three small energy blades he slipped into the sheaths across his chest. Gavon looked through the satchel of explosives, and traps, quickly organizing them to fit more securely into the bag, which he then strapped to his belt.
“Sir, we are in position, and the tunnel extension is on it’s way to connect and seal with the Milano’s cargo hatch.”
“Excellence.” He said, fastening the small datapad to his wrist, and heading for the airlock.
“Sir, the tunnel has connected and sealed. You have a green light to open the airlock.”
Gavon keyed in the airlock release code, and a moment later the door slid open, revealing the narrow conduit ahead. He’d only ever used this method once, back with Imperial Intelligence, but he knew there was no other way to keep some semblance of surprise. The Agent slowly walked up to the cargo hatch, examining the outer control panel next to the door, and spoke into his comm.
“E-V, override control relay CR-319-0” He said, crouching next to the flashing console.
“Negative Agent, there appears to be a block from any remote interference. You’ll need to interface directly with the console. I will send you the proper override codes”
Gavon slid the interface cable out from his wrist console, and snapped it into the port just below the hatches controls. The screen on his console lit up, and a series of encrypted numbers, letters, and symbols scrolled at a rapid pace until it stopped, awaiting a command. The Agent punched in the proper override codes, and after a few moments, the airlock seals released and the hatch slid open, revealing a low lit corridor with another door at the end.
Gavon took in a deep breath and pulled one of his blasters from the holster.
“E-V, keep an eye out will ya? I don’t need any surprises.” He said, as he stepped onto the Milano, and slowly crept down the corridor.
“I shall keep two eyes out for you Agent...”
I say, why the hell not?
But that's coming from someone who isn't interacting with any other players...yet...
But that's coming from someone who isn't interacting with any other players...yet...
R&D may be adding another brainwashed asshat recruit to their ranks in the near future...
Chrono 018:24
R&D Maximum Security Ward
Subject ID:# 52-0A-351
Subject Name: Ink
Status: [ 3 days in solitary without incident ]
The woman was asleep on the floor in the middle of the ten by twenty meter cell surrounded by various small plastic bottles of paint, and a few boxes of used charcoal sticks. The once off-white colored walls had been completely covered with various abstract and impressionistic murals and imagery, many of which depicted mythological creatures destroying buildings, chasing people, and transforming into militia soldiers with the letters “R & D” on their chests . Symbols of unknown origins were drawn on the floor, starting from the corners of the room, and moving into the center. Along the wall, a small cot with a thin mattress, and torn sheets, as well as a small table with a tray of untouched food.
A buzzer sounded, opening the door that lead into the room just outside Czigani’s cell, and startled her out of an otherwise deep sleep.
“...the fuck!...” She blurted out in an incoherent slur, blinking her eyes rapidly to adjust her vision, and wiping the little bit of drool from her cheek.
“Pulling an all-nighter again I see, Miss Salahori?” The lead scientist said, stepping up close to the energy shielding that served as the cell door, and looked around the interior. “I also see your feelings for R&D haven’t changed much in the last few days…”
“Yeah well, you bitches suck, your food is shit, and I’ve barely seen anyone come through here, so don’t go telling me what I can and can’t paint old man.”
The woman sat up and sprawled her legs out to stretch. Her wrist had been bandaged from the recent incident, and the short dark hair she once had was shaved off completely, revealing several more runic and tribal tattoos, a few that matched what was already on her body. And her silver and onyx piercings were removed, leaving only the holes in her ears, nose, and lip to serve as a reminder. Her clothes, a simple light gray tank top and matching cotton pants, were plain, awkward fitting, and a hard contrast against her tattooed skin.
“My apologies Mis-”
“I don’t want your stupid apologies, okay...Doc?” She exclaimed, grabbing one of the bottles of dried paint and throwing it at the energy field, causing it to crackle and waver momentarily. “And stop trying to be my friend for fuck’s sake...”
Doctor Kordano let out an empathic breath, and held up the datapad he’d been carrying. “Well, as hard as it is to believe, you’ve been less aggressive since the treatments after your attempted suicide. The massive blood loss you incurred seemed to have put your special abilities in a kind of stasis.”
“So what are you telling me, I’m free to go because I’m not a threat to the common asshole on the street anymore?” She said with a wry grin. “Oh wait...that’s right, I killed someone, so ‘no Czigani, you are not free because you are a cold blooded murderer and we need to keep you here for the rest of your crappy life to poke you with needles and shit’ “. Her hand balled up in a fist as she mocked holding a large syringe stabbing herself in the head. “So does that about sum it up, Doc?”
The man couldn’t hold back a smile while he stood and watched the woman’s theatrics. “No, you aren’t free, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have something special planned for you.”
“Oh? Is it my birthday?” She said, turning her body to lay flat on her stomach, and proceed to do pushups. “Or maybe, just maybe I actually get some fucking brushes to use with the cheap paint you’ve given me, so I don’t have to use my fingers anymore?”
The doctor smirked, and pulled up a chair to sit down in front of the cell, placing the datapad face down on his lap. He leaned forward, staring at the woman for a moment before speaking.
“Do you know what happened to your brother, Miss Salahori?”
He let the question hang, and Czigani, continuing her pushups, stayed silent up until the doctor was about to speak again, and interrupted him.
“Yeah. Dumb shit left when I was a teenager and I never saw him again. I hope he’s dead. End of story.”
“What if I told you that he didn’t leave you, but he had been kidnapped and held for ransom because of who his father was. Your father, Captain Jorgio Salahori.”
Czigani pushed herself up, rolled back into a sitting position, and stared back at the aging doctor with a wide grin on her face. “I’d say you’re a few cards short of a full deck, Doc. And why in the nine hells would you tell me this anyway?”
“Because Miss Salahori, your father was a high profile target by resistance groups run by the children of the dark. These mutant gangs essentially kidnapped, tortured, and ransomed his life for a large sum of money. When your father wasn’t able to pay on time what they asked for, they killed your brother, and sent the police department footage of everything as a warning. He had nothing to do with any of this, but they used him as bait...”
Czigani sat there, her grin faded away and replaced by a burning anger, and tears welled up that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She stood up, balled both hands into fists, clenched her teeth, and stepped up only inches from the energy field separating her and the doctor.
“Show me the fucking footage…”
R&D Maximum Security Ward
Subject ID:# 52-0A-351
Subject Name: Ink
Status: [ 3 days in solitary without incident ]
The woman was asleep on the floor in the middle of the ten by twenty meter cell surrounded by various small plastic bottles of paint, and a few boxes of used charcoal sticks. The once off-white colored walls had been completely covered with various abstract and impressionistic murals and imagery, many of which depicted mythological creatures destroying buildings, chasing people, and transforming into militia soldiers with the letters “R & D” on their chests . Symbols of unknown origins were drawn on the floor, starting from the corners of the room, and moving into the center. Along the wall, a small cot with a thin mattress, and torn sheets, as well as a small table with a tray of untouched food.
A buzzer sounded, opening the door that lead into the room just outside Czigani’s cell, and startled her out of an otherwise deep sleep.
“...the fuck!...” She blurted out in an incoherent slur, blinking her eyes rapidly to adjust her vision, and wiping the little bit of drool from her cheek.
“Pulling an all-nighter again I see, Miss Salahori?” The lead scientist said, stepping up close to the energy shielding that served as the cell door, and looked around the interior. “I also see your feelings for R&D haven’t changed much in the last few days…”
“Yeah well, you bitches suck, your food is shit, and I’ve barely seen anyone come through here, so don’t go telling me what I can and can’t paint old man.”
The woman sat up and sprawled her legs out to stretch. Her wrist had been bandaged from the recent incident, and the short dark hair she once had was shaved off completely, revealing several more runic and tribal tattoos, a few that matched what was already on her body. And her silver and onyx piercings were removed, leaving only the holes in her ears, nose, and lip to serve as a reminder. Her clothes, a simple light gray tank top and matching cotton pants, were plain, awkward fitting, and a hard contrast against her tattooed skin.
“My apologies Mis-”
“I don’t want your stupid apologies, okay...Doc?” She exclaimed, grabbing one of the bottles of dried paint and throwing it at the energy field, causing it to crackle and waver momentarily. “And stop trying to be my friend for fuck’s sake...”
Doctor Kordano let out an empathic breath, and held up the datapad he’d been carrying. “Well, as hard as it is to believe, you’ve been less aggressive since the treatments after your attempted suicide. The massive blood loss you incurred seemed to have put your special abilities in a kind of stasis.”
“So what are you telling me, I’m free to go because I’m not a threat to the common asshole on the street anymore?” She said with a wry grin. “Oh wait...that’s right, I killed someone, so ‘no Czigani, you are not free because you are a cold blooded murderer and we need to keep you here for the rest of your crappy life to poke you with needles and shit’ “. Her hand balled up in a fist as she mocked holding a large syringe stabbing herself in the head. “So does that about sum it up, Doc?”
The man couldn’t hold back a smile while he stood and watched the woman’s theatrics. “No, you aren’t free, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have something special planned for you.”
“Oh? Is it my birthday?” She said, turning her body to lay flat on her stomach, and proceed to do pushups. “Or maybe, just maybe I actually get some fucking brushes to use with the cheap paint you’ve given me, so I don’t have to use my fingers anymore?”
The doctor smirked, and pulled up a chair to sit down in front of the cell, placing the datapad face down on his lap. He leaned forward, staring at the woman for a moment before speaking.
“Do you know what happened to your brother, Miss Salahori?”
He let the question hang, and Czigani, continuing her pushups, stayed silent up until the doctor was about to speak again, and interrupted him.
“Yeah. Dumb shit left when I was a teenager and I never saw him again. I hope he’s dead. End of story.”
“What if I told you that he didn’t leave you, but he had been kidnapped and held for ransom because of who his father was. Your father, Captain Jorgio Salahori.”
Czigani pushed herself up, rolled back into a sitting position, and stared back at the aging doctor with a wide grin on her face. “I’d say you’re a few cards short of a full deck, Doc. And why in the nine hells would you tell me this anyway?”
“Because Miss Salahori, your father was a high profile target by resistance groups run by the children of the dark. These mutant gangs essentially kidnapped, tortured, and ransomed his life for a large sum of money. When your father wasn’t able to pay on time what they asked for, they killed your brother, and sent the police department footage of everything as a warning. He had nothing to do with any of this, but they used him as bait...”
Czigani sat there, her grin faded away and replaced by a burning anger, and tears welled up that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She stood up, balled both hands into fists, clenched her teeth, and stepped up only inches from the energy field separating her and the doctor.
“Show me the fucking footage…”
Yeah, the RL demons had me tied up for a couple of days unfortunately :\ I'll post a response after frapet...
Chrono 002:20
R&D Maximum Security Ward
Subject ID:# 52-0A-351
Subject Name: Ink
Status: [ HIGH ALERT ] Quarantine Escape
The hallway ahead was much longer than she imagined, but little time could be spent worrying about the distance she actually had to travel. Pure idiocy carried her across the cold metal floor, and being a glutton for punishment, Czigani didn't hesitate even when the few random guards came barreling out of side doors, shock batons gripped tightly in their hands.
She maneuvered around the first, a fat clumsy oaf, whose wide swing sent him off balance and face first to the floor. The second tried charging toward the woman in hopes of tackling her, but again Czigani was able to slip past by spinning her lean frame, avoiding a head-on collision and diving through the first door on the left. She scrambled to her feet, pushed the door control to the close position, and quickly headed down the empty hallway.
“ALERT STATUS: Breach in Sector 3, Corridor 15. Lock down sequence initiated. Proceed with caution” A monotone and robotic voice announced over the broadcast system, causing the hallway lights to cut out and dimly lit red auxiliary lights to switch on.
“Bitch nuts!” The woman exclaimed, slowing the pace to get her bearings. “All you fuckers will pay when I get out of this shit hole!”
Czigani could feel the anxiety and fear building up again. She hated the feeling of being trapped like an animal, despised it even, and her body’s defenses seemed to respond, as the runic and creature-like tattoos that covered her body slowly crawled and lifted their blackened tentacles. It was an uncomfortable sensation, that burned the inside of her body, yet in turn fueled their protection even more from the pain it caused. Her powers, for all intents and purposes, were a vicious cycle that she found difficult to control.
But control she did not want at this point. She wanted out at any cost…
Her feet picked up the pace once again, heading for one of the doors at the end of the dimly lit corridor, and slipped through it before it had closed permanently. She took a moment to catch her breath and refocus, trying to block out the blaring sirens and flashing lights from their internal security system. An overwhelming feeling of nausea washed over her, and she suddenly found herself collapsing onto the floor with barely any muscle response, yet her senses were fully intact.
“What the fuck...” Her words came out very breathy, as though her lungs couldn’t take in and push out enough air as normal, and the tattoos began to slowly cease their movements, and retreat back to their place of origin on her body.
“Your innate defenses, Miss Salahori, have caused your body to experience a massive amount of fatigue, to the point where your muscle tissue has systematically shutdown until you've fully recovered.”
The voice on the speaker system sounded very much like the lead scientist back in the room they had initially kept Czigani in, however a bit more artificial.
“Please stop this foolishness, and let us help you.”
The woman, laying on the floor in a fetal position, slowly reached out an arm, hoping to grab the metal chair nearby. Movement came, but sluggish and painful, as she slid closer to the chair, eventually taking hold of it’s leg to pull herself up. Her hand ran up the metal leg, feeling for a place to grab, but managing to cause a small slice in her finger from the jagged fragments on the back of the leg. The pain was momentary, but at least she felt something...
The overhead speaker crackled on once again, repeating the earlier “alert status” in the robotic voice, followed by the voice of the lead scientist.
“Do you hear that, Miss Salahori?. They know your location, and are coming for you. Give up the fight, and let us help you.”
Her senses were sharp, and the will to push on was ever present, but her body lacked the strength it needed. She felt drained and helpless, laying on the floor like some poor strung out junkie in the slums. Maybe this is where she belonged, with the freaks, the outcasts, and the wretched that the rest of society didn’t even want to know existed. Her thoughts dwelled for a moment on those nights, a young punk with no direction, picking fights anywhere and everywhere, and despising her life as the “daughter of a respected police captain”.
She often wondered if the real reason she had killed him was to blot that title from her history completely, but knew what she was doing and aware that the freedom she once had would be no more after all was said and done. This place, however, wanted to tear her down. This building run by the elitist Science Division in the R&D sector wanted her for only one reason. No. They weren’t going to get this guinea pig for their perverse pet projects and freakish research. She knew who they were, and didn’t want them to have the last laugh.
“Go to hell, ASSHOLES!” She screamed, allowing the last words to drag on, as she viciously scraped her wrist against the jagged metal chair leg, tearing through her veins, causing blood to pour out, run down her arm, and onto the white floor into a dark puddle where she lay.
The speaker crackled on, followed by the frantic voice of the scientist.
“Dammit girl, what have you done?...CODE BLUE! Immediate medical crash cart needed in Sector 3, Room A-6! Self-inflicted lacerations to her wrist!”
The man’s voice faded in and out as the blood drained from the woman's body, and the black veil of final death approached to greet her with a wicked grin.
R&D Maximum Security Ward
Subject ID:# 52-0A-351
Subject Name: Ink
Status: [ HIGH ALERT ] Quarantine Escape
The hallway ahead was much longer than she imagined, but little time could be spent worrying about the distance she actually had to travel. Pure idiocy carried her across the cold metal floor, and being a glutton for punishment, Czigani didn't hesitate even when the few random guards came barreling out of side doors, shock batons gripped tightly in their hands.
She maneuvered around the first, a fat clumsy oaf, whose wide swing sent him off balance and face first to the floor. The second tried charging toward the woman in hopes of tackling her, but again Czigani was able to slip past by spinning her lean frame, avoiding a head-on collision and diving through the first door on the left. She scrambled to her feet, pushed the door control to the close position, and quickly headed down the empty hallway.
“ALERT STATUS: Breach in Sector 3, Corridor 15. Lock down sequence initiated. Proceed with caution” A monotone and robotic voice announced over the broadcast system, causing the hallway lights to cut out and dimly lit red auxiliary lights to switch on.
“Bitch nuts!” The woman exclaimed, slowing the pace to get her bearings. “All you fuckers will pay when I get out of this shit hole!”
Czigani could feel the anxiety and fear building up again. She hated the feeling of being trapped like an animal, despised it even, and her body’s defenses seemed to respond, as the runic and creature-like tattoos that covered her body slowly crawled and lifted their blackened tentacles. It was an uncomfortable sensation, that burned the inside of her body, yet in turn fueled their protection even more from the pain it caused. Her powers, for all intents and purposes, were a vicious cycle that she found difficult to control.
But control she did not want at this point. She wanted out at any cost…
Her feet picked up the pace once again, heading for one of the doors at the end of the dimly lit corridor, and slipped through it before it had closed permanently. She took a moment to catch her breath and refocus, trying to block out the blaring sirens and flashing lights from their internal security system. An overwhelming feeling of nausea washed over her, and she suddenly found herself collapsing onto the floor with barely any muscle response, yet her senses were fully intact.
“What the fuck...” Her words came out very breathy, as though her lungs couldn’t take in and push out enough air as normal, and the tattoos began to slowly cease their movements, and retreat back to their place of origin on her body.
“Your innate defenses, Miss Salahori, have caused your body to experience a massive amount of fatigue, to the point where your muscle tissue has systematically shutdown until you've fully recovered.”
The voice on the speaker system sounded very much like the lead scientist back in the room they had initially kept Czigani in, however a bit more artificial.
“Please stop this foolishness, and let us help you.”
The woman, laying on the floor in a fetal position, slowly reached out an arm, hoping to grab the metal chair nearby. Movement came, but sluggish and painful, as she slid closer to the chair, eventually taking hold of it’s leg to pull herself up. Her hand ran up the metal leg, feeling for a place to grab, but managing to cause a small slice in her finger from the jagged fragments on the back of the leg. The pain was momentary, but at least she felt something...
The overhead speaker crackled on once again, repeating the earlier “alert status” in the robotic voice, followed by the voice of the lead scientist.
“Do you hear that, Miss Salahori?. They know your location, and are coming for you. Give up the fight, and let us help you.”
Her senses were sharp, and the will to push on was ever present, but her body lacked the strength it needed. She felt drained and helpless, laying on the floor like some poor strung out junkie in the slums. Maybe this is where she belonged, with the freaks, the outcasts, and the wretched that the rest of society didn’t even want to know existed. Her thoughts dwelled for a moment on those nights, a young punk with no direction, picking fights anywhere and everywhere, and despising her life as the “daughter of a respected police captain”.
She often wondered if the real reason she had killed him was to blot that title from her history completely, but knew what she was doing and aware that the freedom she once had would be no more after all was said and done. This place, however, wanted to tear her down. This building run by the elitist Science Division in the R&D sector wanted her for only one reason. No. They weren’t going to get this guinea pig for their perverse pet projects and freakish research. She knew who they were, and didn’t want them to have the last laugh.
“Go to hell, ASSHOLES!” She screamed, allowing the last words to drag on, as she viciously scraped her wrist against the jagged metal chair leg, tearing through her veins, causing blood to pour out, run down her arm, and onto the white floor into a dark puddle where she lay.
The speaker crackled on, followed by the frantic voice of the scientist.
“Dammit girl, what have you done?...CODE BLUE! Immediate medical crash cart needed in Sector 3, Room A-6! Self-inflicted lacerations to her wrist!”
The man’s voice faded in and out as the blood drained from the woman's body, and the black veil of final death approached to greet her with a wicked grin.
Well played!
...it's back on like Donkey Kong!
...it's back on like Donkey Kong!
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