One from the Dump!
The Dump being another name for the MPOD. Terrible, isn't it? I have a sadistic streak.
Oh, some angst ahead. Decisions, decisions, I'm a cruel kid, so I am.
She was cold.
It was in the middle of winter, and she was cold, damnit. She wanted to be next to a radiator, the heat cranked to maximum, preferably while wrapped with a fluffy blanket or the nubile form of her lover/partner and ANYWAY, moving on to more PG-13 thoughts.
She was freezing her ass off in subzero temperatures what it's only 4 degrees Celsius? it feels like negative 40..., lying flat on her stomach in the same position for the past hour without making more than a few strategic twitches in order to maintain circulation in her extremities. Like a statue, her slender form melded seamlessly into the convenient background of gargoyles perched like sentinels from some ancient time, the lengthy shadows a useful smokescreen to her true identity as she pursued her current occupation of maintaining immobility.
She blinked, her eyelashes stiffly crusted with frost I hate the cold!, and the miniscule motion sent tiny ice crystals cascading down her reddened cheeks, the faintly pin-pricking sensation barely making an impression against her numbed wind-frozen skin. Without a second thought, she simply went through the routine of clearing her vision and refocused her attention through the infra-red scope poised in front of her right eye.
It was still trained on the wide french windows, curtains conveniently drawn how considerate! to allow her an unimpeded view into the splendidly opulent room within. The sheer lavishness of the entire decor of the room sickened her to the core, knowing as she did the source of that wealth bastards selling children off damn those sicko pedophiles, which contributed to her enthusiasm greatly and helped to brighten her surly mood at having been pulled out of the warmth of the mansion in the middle of winter to go on some retarded mission by one of the Professor's clients and associates.
Her gloved fingers twitched involuntarily, and she was tempted to remove her hand off the trigger to flex it a little, just to get some warmth back into them. But she didn't dare to do so, after all, it could be any time that her mark would step into view and she would need her hand and then BAM. Mission accomplished. Or at least, she hoped. Her primary purpose here wasn't to shoot things if she could help it, according to the briefing. She was here merely as support for her partner darn why does Crystal get all the fun jobs, and as a last-resort insurance in case things went sideways.
Which it shouldn't...Crystal's competent...in more ways than one... The last thought made her smirk, which made her cheeks ache with the unaccustomed movement my skin! my beautiful skin! if frostbite messes with it...SOMEBODY'S going to get hurt.... She settled imperceptibly deeper into the scarf wrapped around her neck, puffing out a little breath that crystallised damn I already miss the girl before her.
One whole hour. Doing her best imitation of a stone statue. At least I'm prettier than these butt ugly gargoyles she snickered almost soundlessly and tried to ignore the itch on her nose. How long before that party in the main hall of the house would end? She wished it would be soon, it was getting really boring staring at an empty room with nothing but her rifle to keep her company. Usually it didn't really matter all that much, considering she had been on longer stakeouts before, but too damn cold damnit!! she really hated the cold, no matter what her icy outward demeanour said about her. She was a warmblooded creature! Heat was preferable! Silently, she swore revenge against whatever unseen power out there who thought it amusing to invent such a thing as "winter".
While part of her was caught up in petty thoughts of retribution, the other half of her was still alert--as befitted a professional sniper, after all. She was the best money could buy on this side of the continent, and even then, not many could procure her services. She already had her hands full with the assignments from home, usually to pick off some individual who had the balls to get involved in the Professor's affairs...those poor shmucks didn't know who or what they were dealing with when they tried to pull fast ones on the Old Bionic Man (as she labelled the Prof). After a few of those who had crossed Xevon were terminated before they could even blink, most of the unsavory half of the city had known better than to challenge their influence. Unfortunately, there were always the newbies bumpkins from out of town who thought that threatening an eccentric genius of a scientist was a good idea, especially when said scientist lived on an estate filled with pretty young things. If only they knew that the pretty young things could and would snap their necks before the men could lay a finger on them, she thought with some amusement. Clearly the idiots were thinking with the heads down below than with the one in their skull...
Even as the ironic musings flitted through her mind, they all faded away in a split second when the light in the room came on. Well finally! She shifted herself slightly, a faint tremble of anticipation surging through her as her body automatically went from sleeper to active mode within 3 seconds. One of the good things about genetic engineering...
As she had expected, Crystal was following the grossly overweight man, who was in the lead to enter the luxurious rooms. The sniper's breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the shimmering dress that clung almostly sinfully to every well-known curve on her lover partner's body. Get a grip! She mentally chided herself, steeling her every thought with the ironclad discipline she was imbued with from a young age. Still watching the action through the tiny lens of the scope, she let her conscious thoughts rest on the rhythm of her breathing as she emptied her mind in order to better sharpen her battle focus.
She could not possibly hear what was being said in the room. Lipreading was one of her weakest subjects; she had spent far more time practising on the firing range and reading up on various firearms instead of honing her other skills. Which was why she was usually stuck doing sniper duty while others got to play up close and dirty. Not that she minded, she preferred not getting her hands dirty with all the muck and mess from upclose kills. Besides, there was a strange thrill to dropping targets at a distance, watching them fall like dominoes as she picked them off one by one as they scrambled around like headless chickens trying to figure out who was killing them and then just dropping like the dead men they already were when she first set up her scope and...
Nevertheless. There would be no need for her to pull the trigger at all in this part of the mission what a shame if everything went like it was supposed to. She had already had her fill of live targets before when she picked off rival snipers and agents in a sweep earlier in the day. With a hawklike gaze trained on the scene playing out behind the glass, she observed every move and gesture with a deliberately detached air. She had to, if not her emotions would have caused her to riddle the fat man with bulletholes already, considering the way he was trying to paw HER Crystal. Asshole.
Seemed pretty standard. The good old seduction tactic always worked, even if she hated it personally. Especially when the bait's MY Crystal... She noted with an experienced eye the flick of the wrist as Crystal slipped a sleeping draught into the wineglass, before offering said wineglass to the lecherous fat man who was currently leering at the exotic beauty in the barely-there dress. Going as planned...
The fat man slumped over with a thump on the mahogany desk as the draught took effect, Crystal deftly catching the falling wineglass as it slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers to prevent it from shattering against the floor. Turning with a flourish towards the window, Crystal flashed an impish grin at her hidden partner who was gathering icicles on the opposite roof, and blew her a kiss. Involuntarily the sniper grinned back, even though she knew her partner couldn't see, warmth flooding her frozen form with that simple gesture I'm so whipped, and this time she didn't even care about the stinging sensation that pricked the frozen skin of her cheek.
That was the image she wanted to keep in her mind forever. Not what happened next.
Crystal was going to finish the job. Retrieve the vial from the mark by any means necessary. The sniper conveniently ignored the second part of the orders, of what would happen if they were unsuccessful in accomplishing the first part of the orders. After all, they never failed. They never have, and they never would, especially not now. Not in some remote corner of the world in the dead of winter, about a thousand miles away from home.
The sexy girl in the evening dress was expertly rummaging through the room, emptying drawers and looking in the usual nooks and crannies for hidden compartments and the like. Therefore she had not noticed the door to the room stealthily sneak open with nary a sound. The sniper could not have seen it either, since the door was out of her angle of sight through that single window.
An intruder would normally been dealt with easily enough. Be it a servant, or some other curious guest, coming in to the study for one purpose or another, Crystal could easily lie her way out of trouble, and failing that, could dispatch or disable them to prevent an outcry. It was easy enough, routine enough. It shouldn't have been a problem.
Except that it was this time. Because the "random uninvited guest" was not some inebriated gentleman with lesser coordination than a spastic monkey with muscle dystrophy. It was, unfortunately, another agent with the exact same purpose as they had: retrieve the vial. At all costs.
Crystal had reacted quickly enough. Hell, she had just discovered the vial, or rather, the hypodermic needle containing the fluid they were after, suspended in the middle of a hidden safe that had been concealed behind the almost-cliched wall painting device. It would be no trouble to grab the vial, get rid of the intruder, then get out. No trouble at all.
Even if the intruder was armed with a gun.
The first shot, muffled no doubt by a silencer, scored the expensive mahogany surface of the desk as Crystal ducked reflexively. The slim girl moved a little awkwardly in her high heels and dress, and even the sniper could read the distinct lip movements forming random swear words in several different languages as the faux socialite kicked off her heels and deliberately tore off part of the lower half of the dress that was constricting her movement.
In a flash, her partner had snatched their prize, and was currently dodging shots by hiding behind pieces of furniture. Feeling extremely useless with her rifle trained on the window, mostly because the other rival agent was hidden at an awkward angle for her set up a proper shot for, the sniper licked nervously at her chapped lips as she hoped beyond all hope that the annoying obstacle would just show himself, even if just for a second, for her to plant a bullet into that obnoxious skull of his, thus saving Crystal the trouble.
It still seemed that Crystal had things well in control though. She was getting closer to that other agent, one hand still clutching the prize. As the agile girl prepared to pounce on the other agent, a stray shot from the still concealed man (to the sniper) ricocheting off in a random direction as Crystal presumably closed in for the kill, snapping his neck the way they were all taught to.
That wouldn't have been a problem in itself. It was just that the stray bullet nicked one end of the hypodermic needle in Crystal's hand, the impact having the effect of knocking it loose from that hand. Even as Crystal reacted quickly to save the needle from being shattered against the floor, she somehow tipped off balance just an inch too far as she whirled, and as a result, the needle sank into her arm instead of ending up in the safe grasp of her palm.
This is not happening. The sniper's mind went catastrophically blank for all of 2.3 seconds after the event, her entire body locking up into rigidity. Her beloved, her partner, her other half......that goddamned needle...
...contains highly advanced nanite technology in a concentrated form, designed to shut down the nervous system temporarily to render the victim helpless and immobile, and would remain within victim's body ready to be reactivated with a signal......no way to remove from body...
The rest of the document from her briefing folder faded into obscurity in her consciousness. Crystal was in trouble. Worse, if what she remembered of their own unique physiology was true, their own advanced immune system would rip into the foreign bodies, as the nanites would surely be interpreted as, the resulting clash between the two forces would cause excruciating pain for her lover and would ultimately kill her as the system kicked into overdrive.
As it was doing now. She watched in horror through the scope as Crystal dropped to her knees, face contorted with pain as she ripped off the needle and hurled it at some wall. No no no no... Her mind was numbed with fearindecisionterrorlovepain...
She was a soldier. Soldiers didn't panic. Soldiers followed orders. Soldiers did their job.
Training took over even as her very-much-human-self collapsed into a puddle of conflicted agony. Training she had, they all had, received from the cradle. She was no longer Selene, who loved Crystal with all her heart and would gladly have died for her. There was nothing but the soldier even as Selene herself retreated into a confused corner of her mind, unable to react coherently to the situation.
A sixteen year old soldier, that had seen more real high level combat than thirty year old army veterans. A soldier, that would have been called "beautiful" had she been in a normal life. The soldier knew what to do. The soldier could do what the sixteen year old girl, so very much in love, could not.
Follow orders to the letter.
If the contents of the vial cannot be retrieved, it is to be destroyed.
The contents of the vial were inside the writhing girl on the floor of that opulent room.
If a soldier is compromised on a mission, she is to be eliminated to prevent capture by the enemy.
The earlier ruckus caused by the fight would soon attract attention, partner is unable to escape in current condition.
Soldiers follow orders.
The solution was clearly present to the soldier. One that would clear both objectives of the now-abortive mission. Clean up the mess, echoed a distant voice in her head.
The soldier raised the sniper rifle.
This is the job
Set an eye to the scope.
Good soldiers do their job
Scope moving to acquire target.
Good soldiers follow orders
Target acquired and locked.
I'm a good soldier
Finger poised over trigger.
Follow orders
Just follow orders
It's the job
Follow orders follow orders followordersfollowordersorders
Finger moving downwards.
What...I...am...soldier...? Follow orders...kill...her...what...
Trigger about to be depressed.
...am...doing...this...this...
IS NOT ME!!!
Click.
Clap. Whoosh.
Two lives ended in that instant.
One, face first on plush carpet, blood pooling from a neat shot to the head.
The second, frozen on a rooftop lined with gargoyles bearing twisted expressions, their mouths opened as if shrieking, no more distinguishable from the grosteque stone sculptures around her as all meaning faded from her life, her own screams gone unheard or unvoiced, she could not have known.
She did not know how she left the roof. She did not know how she ended up back home. It did not matter.
Crystal was dead. And Selene dead with her, in the dark of that cold wintry night.
x-x-x-x
Kerlis took one look at her morose roommate and girlfriend sitting forlornly on their bed, and instantly guessed the source of her lover's sorrow.
"You went to see your sister." It was not a question, but Seyrine nodded mechanically anyway.
Selene. Her twin. Her elder. Her sister, damn all the classifications. They had shared a test tube, but it seemed that they shared more than just that on the surface. Seyrine loved and respected her older sister, and she had always looked up to her twin in all matters.
Seeing that same strong, confident sister look like a lifeless corpse in the cells was more than she could bear. An empty shell, as if the soul itself had flown away, gone, it seemed, with the death of her partner.
Glancing up as Kerlis enfolded her in a comforting embrace, Seyrine could barely imagine how it would have been like is Kerlis left her as permanently as well. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the thought, even as it filled her with dread and a sick unease.
Before she knew it, Seyrine, the flame-eyed warrior, had broken down into helpless, wracking sobs as she cried desperately in the embrace of her partner and lover, crying the tears she knew her sister no longer knew how to shed, weeping, it seemed, for the grief they shared through their link.
As twins. As clones. As sisters. Connected.
Oh, some angst ahead. Decisions, decisions, I'm a cruel kid, so I am.
She was cold.
It was in the middle of winter, and she was cold, damnit. She wanted to be next to a radiator, the heat cranked to maximum, preferably while wrapped with a fluffy blanket or the nubile form of her lover/partner and ANYWAY, moving on to more PG-13 thoughts.
She was freezing her ass off in subzero temperatures what it's only 4 degrees Celsius? it feels like negative 40..., lying flat on her stomach in the same position for the past hour without making more than a few strategic twitches in order to maintain circulation in her extremities. Like a statue, her slender form melded seamlessly into the convenient background of gargoyles perched like sentinels from some ancient time, the lengthy shadows a useful smokescreen to her true identity as she pursued her current occupation of maintaining immobility.
She blinked, her eyelashes stiffly crusted with frost I hate the cold!, and the miniscule motion sent tiny ice crystals cascading down her reddened cheeks, the faintly pin-pricking sensation barely making an impression against her numbed wind-frozen skin. Without a second thought, she simply went through the routine of clearing her vision and refocused her attention through the infra-red scope poised in front of her right eye.
It was still trained on the wide french windows, curtains conveniently drawn how considerate! to allow her an unimpeded view into the splendidly opulent room within. The sheer lavishness of the entire decor of the room sickened her to the core, knowing as she did the source of that wealth bastards selling children off damn those sicko pedophiles, which contributed to her enthusiasm greatly and helped to brighten her surly mood at having been pulled out of the warmth of the mansion in the middle of winter to go on some retarded mission by one of the Professor's clients and associates.
Her gloved fingers twitched involuntarily, and she was tempted to remove her hand off the trigger to flex it a little, just to get some warmth back into them. But she didn't dare to do so, after all, it could be any time that her mark would step into view and she would need her hand and then BAM. Mission accomplished. Or at least, she hoped. Her primary purpose here wasn't to shoot things if she could help it, according to the briefing. She was here merely as support for her partner darn why does Crystal get all the fun jobs, and as a last-resort insurance in case things went sideways.
Which it shouldn't...Crystal's competent...in more ways than one... The last thought made her smirk, which made her cheeks ache with the unaccustomed movement my skin! my beautiful skin! if frostbite messes with it...SOMEBODY'S going to get hurt.... She settled imperceptibly deeper into the scarf wrapped around her neck, puffing out a little breath that crystallised damn I already miss the girl before her.
One whole hour. Doing her best imitation of a stone statue. At least I'm prettier than these butt ugly gargoyles she snickered almost soundlessly and tried to ignore the itch on her nose. How long before that party in the main hall of the house would end? She wished it would be soon, it was getting really boring staring at an empty room with nothing but her rifle to keep her company. Usually it didn't really matter all that much, considering she had been on longer stakeouts before, but too damn cold damnit!! she really hated the cold, no matter what her icy outward demeanour said about her. She was a warmblooded creature! Heat was preferable! Silently, she swore revenge against whatever unseen power out there who thought it amusing to invent such a thing as "winter".
While part of her was caught up in petty thoughts of retribution, the other half of her was still alert--as befitted a professional sniper, after all. She was the best money could buy on this side of the continent, and even then, not many could procure her services. She already had her hands full with the assignments from home, usually to pick off some individual who had the balls to get involved in the Professor's affairs...those poor shmucks didn't know who or what they were dealing with when they tried to pull fast ones on the Old Bionic Man (as she labelled the Prof). After a few of those who had crossed Xevon were terminated before they could even blink, most of the unsavory half of the city had known better than to challenge their influence. Unfortunately, there were always the newbies bumpkins from out of town who thought that threatening an eccentric genius of a scientist was a good idea, especially when said scientist lived on an estate filled with pretty young things. If only they knew that the pretty young things could and would snap their necks before the men could lay a finger on them, she thought with some amusement. Clearly the idiots were thinking with the heads down below than with the one in their skull...
Even as the ironic musings flitted through her mind, they all faded away in a split second when the light in the room came on. Well finally! She shifted herself slightly, a faint tremble of anticipation surging through her as her body automatically went from sleeper to active mode within 3 seconds. One of the good things about genetic engineering...
As she had expected, Crystal was following the grossly overweight man, who was in the lead to enter the luxurious rooms. The sniper's breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the shimmering dress that clung almostly sinfully to every well-known curve on her lover partner's body. Get a grip! She mentally chided herself, steeling her every thought with the ironclad discipline she was imbued with from a young age. Still watching the action through the tiny lens of the scope, she let her conscious thoughts rest on the rhythm of her breathing as she emptied her mind in order to better sharpen her battle focus.
She could not possibly hear what was being said in the room. Lipreading was one of her weakest subjects; she had spent far more time practising on the firing range and reading up on various firearms instead of honing her other skills. Which was why she was usually stuck doing sniper duty while others got to play up close and dirty. Not that she minded, she preferred not getting her hands dirty with all the muck and mess from upclose kills. Besides, there was a strange thrill to dropping targets at a distance, watching them fall like dominoes as she picked them off one by one as they scrambled around like headless chickens trying to figure out who was killing them and then just dropping like the dead men they already were when she first set up her scope and...
Nevertheless. There would be no need for her to pull the trigger at all in this part of the mission what a shame if everything went like it was supposed to. She had already had her fill of live targets before when she picked off rival snipers and agents in a sweep earlier in the day. With a hawklike gaze trained on the scene playing out behind the glass, she observed every move and gesture with a deliberately detached air. She had to, if not her emotions would have caused her to riddle the fat man with bulletholes already, considering the way he was trying to paw HER Crystal. Asshole.
Seemed pretty standard. The good old seduction tactic always worked, even if she hated it personally. Especially when the bait's MY Crystal... She noted with an experienced eye the flick of the wrist as Crystal slipped a sleeping draught into the wineglass, before offering said wineglass to the lecherous fat man who was currently leering at the exotic beauty in the barely-there dress. Going as planned...
The fat man slumped over with a thump on the mahogany desk as the draught took effect, Crystal deftly catching the falling wineglass as it slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers to prevent it from shattering against the floor. Turning with a flourish towards the window, Crystal flashed an impish grin at her hidden partner who was gathering icicles on the opposite roof, and blew her a kiss. Involuntarily the sniper grinned back, even though she knew her partner couldn't see, warmth flooding her frozen form with that simple gesture I'm so whipped, and this time she didn't even care about the stinging sensation that pricked the frozen skin of her cheek.
That was the image she wanted to keep in her mind forever. Not what happened next.
Crystal was going to finish the job. Retrieve the vial from the mark by any means necessary. The sniper conveniently ignored the second part of the orders, of what would happen if they were unsuccessful in accomplishing the first part of the orders. After all, they never failed. They never have, and they never would, especially not now. Not in some remote corner of the world in the dead of winter, about a thousand miles away from home.
The sexy girl in the evening dress was expertly rummaging through the room, emptying drawers and looking in the usual nooks and crannies for hidden compartments and the like. Therefore she had not noticed the door to the room stealthily sneak open with nary a sound. The sniper could not have seen it either, since the door was out of her angle of sight through that single window.
An intruder would normally been dealt with easily enough. Be it a servant, or some other curious guest, coming in to the study for one purpose or another, Crystal could easily lie her way out of trouble, and failing that, could dispatch or disable them to prevent an outcry. It was easy enough, routine enough. It shouldn't have been a problem.
Except that it was this time. Because the "random uninvited guest" was not some inebriated gentleman with lesser coordination than a spastic monkey with muscle dystrophy. It was, unfortunately, another agent with the exact same purpose as they had: retrieve the vial. At all costs.
Crystal had reacted quickly enough. Hell, she had just discovered the vial, or rather, the hypodermic needle containing the fluid they were after, suspended in the middle of a hidden safe that had been concealed behind the almost-cliched wall painting device. It would be no trouble to grab the vial, get rid of the intruder, then get out. No trouble at all.
Even if the intruder was armed with a gun.
The first shot, muffled no doubt by a silencer, scored the expensive mahogany surface of the desk as Crystal ducked reflexively. The slim girl moved a little awkwardly in her high heels and dress, and even the sniper could read the distinct lip movements forming random swear words in several different languages as the faux socialite kicked off her heels and deliberately tore off part of the lower half of the dress that was constricting her movement.
In a flash, her partner had snatched their prize, and was currently dodging shots by hiding behind pieces of furniture. Feeling extremely useless with her rifle trained on the window, mostly because the other rival agent was hidden at an awkward angle for her set up a proper shot for, the sniper licked nervously at her chapped lips as she hoped beyond all hope that the annoying obstacle would just show himself, even if just for a second, for her to plant a bullet into that obnoxious skull of his, thus saving Crystal the trouble.
It still seemed that Crystal had things well in control though. She was getting closer to that other agent, one hand still clutching the prize. As the agile girl prepared to pounce on the other agent, a stray shot from the still concealed man (to the sniper) ricocheting off in a random direction as Crystal presumably closed in for the kill, snapping his neck the way they were all taught to.
That wouldn't have been a problem in itself. It was just that the stray bullet nicked one end of the hypodermic needle in Crystal's hand, the impact having the effect of knocking it loose from that hand. Even as Crystal reacted quickly to save the needle from being shattered against the floor, she somehow tipped off balance just an inch too far as she whirled, and as a result, the needle sank into her arm instead of ending up in the safe grasp of her palm.
This is not happening. The sniper's mind went catastrophically blank for all of 2.3 seconds after the event, her entire body locking up into rigidity. Her beloved, her partner, her other half......that goddamned needle...
...contains highly advanced nanite technology in a concentrated form, designed to shut down the nervous system temporarily to render the victim helpless and immobile, and would remain within victim's body ready to be reactivated with a signal......no way to remove from body...
The rest of the document from her briefing folder faded into obscurity in her consciousness. Crystal was in trouble. Worse, if what she remembered of their own unique physiology was true, their own advanced immune system would rip into the foreign bodies, as the nanites would surely be interpreted as, the resulting clash between the two forces would cause excruciating pain for her lover and would ultimately kill her as the system kicked into overdrive.
As it was doing now. She watched in horror through the scope as Crystal dropped to her knees, face contorted with pain as she ripped off the needle and hurled it at some wall. No no no no... Her mind was numbed with fearindecisionterrorlovepain...
She was a soldier. Soldiers didn't panic. Soldiers followed orders. Soldiers did their job.
Training took over even as her very-much-human-self collapsed into a puddle of conflicted agony. Training she had, they all had, received from the cradle. She was no longer Selene, who loved Crystal with all her heart and would gladly have died for her. There was nothing but the soldier even as Selene herself retreated into a confused corner of her mind, unable to react coherently to the situation.
A sixteen year old soldier, that had seen more real high level combat than thirty year old army veterans. A soldier, that would have been called "beautiful" had she been in a normal life. The soldier knew what to do. The soldier could do what the sixteen year old girl, so very much in love, could not.
Follow orders to the letter.
If the contents of the vial cannot be retrieved, it is to be destroyed.
The contents of the vial were inside the writhing girl on the floor of that opulent room.
If a soldier is compromised on a mission, she is to be eliminated to prevent capture by the enemy.
The earlier ruckus caused by the fight would soon attract attention, partner is unable to escape in current condition.
Soldiers follow orders.
The solution was clearly present to the soldier. One that would clear both objectives of the now-abortive mission. Clean up the mess, echoed a distant voice in her head.
The soldier raised the sniper rifle.
This is the job
Set an eye to the scope.
Good soldiers do their job
Scope moving to acquire target.
Good soldiers follow orders
Target acquired and locked.
I'm a good soldier
Finger poised over trigger.
Follow orders
Just follow orders
It's the job
Follow orders follow orders followordersfollowordersorders
Finger moving downwards.
What...I...am...soldier...? Follow orders...kill...her...what...
Trigger about to be depressed.
...am...doing...this...this...
IS NOT ME!!!
Click.
Clap. Whoosh.
Two lives ended in that instant.
One, face first on plush carpet, blood pooling from a neat shot to the head.
The second, frozen on a rooftop lined with gargoyles bearing twisted expressions, their mouths opened as if shrieking, no more distinguishable from the grosteque stone sculptures around her as all meaning faded from her life, her own screams gone unheard or unvoiced, she could not have known.
She did not know how she left the roof. She did not know how she ended up back home. It did not matter.
Crystal was dead. And Selene dead with her, in the dark of that cold wintry night.
x-x-x-x
Kerlis took one look at her morose roommate and girlfriend sitting forlornly on their bed, and instantly guessed the source of her lover's sorrow.
"You went to see your sister." It was not a question, but Seyrine nodded mechanically anyway.
Selene. Her twin. Her elder. Her sister, damn all the classifications. They had shared a test tube, but it seemed that they shared more than just that on the surface. Seyrine loved and respected her older sister, and she had always looked up to her twin in all matters.
Seeing that same strong, confident sister look like a lifeless corpse in the cells was more than she could bear. An empty shell, as if the soul itself had flown away, gone, it seemed, with the death of her partner.
Glancing up as Kerlis enfolded her in a comforting embrace, Seyrine could barely imagine how it would have been like is Kerlis left her as permanently as well. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the thought, even as it filled her with dread and a sick unease.
Before she knew it, Seyrine, the flame-eyed warrior, had broken down into helpless, wracking sobs as she cried desperately in the embrace of her partner and lover, crying the tears she knew her sister no longer knew how to shed, weeping, it seemed, for the grief they shared through their link.
As twins. As clones. As sisters. Connected.