This is a bit of a thought experiment. The first in probably a series of short oneshot stories. It should give anyone who was doubting it, a view into just how incredibly
twisted, Nikita's thought process is.
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He had made a mistake.
His calculations were wrong.
She felt her hip, the weapon had an uncomfortable heavy weight. A short brutal monster that barked fire and death like the mystic beasts of old. The gun smelled of iron, like blood. Like the blood that stained her hands red. Hot. Salty. Metallic. She hated it. So insincere, so quick. She wanted him to suffer.
No. She tried to still her mind, forcing lucidity to the surface through a hazy swarm of ideas and thoughts and dreams and memories and nightmares.
It was hard. She needed Clarity. There was never any clarity, and when she strained her eyes against the murk, they stung with dust and ash and smoke and fire and blood. Soon, his blood would be added to the murk.
His blood. It trailed away through these dark empty narrow deserted corridors, leading her directly to him. Not that it mattered. The tracking device she had attached to him was still singing its sweet little birdsong, calling to her wherever he went.
She wondered if he realized that he was trapped. It hadn't taken much Effort to bribe the station managers. They were greedy, corrupt. The pilot gave them an offer. The pilot wanted blood. The Pilot got what she wanted.
It would look like a simple Security Error. The man from CONCORD would never know that his access codes for the station had been Temporarily revoked, he was too busy trying to escape. The Capsuleer stalked closer and closer to him. She had already fit the noose about his neck, he was already a hanged man. He just did not know it yet.
He was foolish. With his security logs. And his badges. And his Threats. Who did he think he was. She was a Capsuleer. An Immortal. A Goddess.
He had Threatened Her. That was his Mistake. The one the pilot loved. His Mistake would be his Undoing. Just like how his left turn at the most recent junction was a Mistake.
The Capsuleer wondered if She would ever know what had been done for Her. Not that it mattered. Her Love would Shine through regardless. Radiance Like a Star. Cutting through the haze of smoke and ash that surrounded their lives. Yes, she would be grateful for this. It was to protect her. No one would ever Threaten her again. The Pilot would make that very, Very, clear.
Clear like the huge windows of this chamber she now entered. Looking down onto the massive, slowly turning bulk of Oris below her. She smiled. The billions of people on the planet below had built their empire around an Absent God. While silently, a True Goddess walked the decks of their Capital Station.
The crystallized metallic material that the windows were made of Sung as the body of the CONCORD Agent hit them, Smashed against it by the faintly Shining, Flickering, glowing shields of the Lovely Demon that now appeared out of the shadows. He was trapped, his hand tried to slide along the glass to reach his gun, but...what was he thinking? Did he think such a feeble weapon could harm Her? She who could command the toil of thousands with a mere thought?
The Shield Rippled like water. The waves sharp and pointed, like daggers. They slid into his flesh. The fragile muscles and ligaments cleanly separated, and his arm went limp, screaming in agony. No, that was his mouth. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. She Cut his screams away. Reducing them to a terrified, bloody wheezing. His eyes were wide with fear. The realization that we was going to Die Here. In this dark chamber, pressed to the window, looking down onto the Toils of Billions on the world far below.
She laughed, her voice lyrical and melodic as she walked closer to him, drifting close enough to touch, were he not pressed so firmly into place.
"Not so tough now, are you?" She said with malicious glee. "Without your men. And your guns. And your Badges. And your Threats." Each time she spoke, the shield dug in a little more, the ripples cutting sliding smoothly along, leaving beautiful swirling patterns of pain, and little rivers of blood in their wake.
The man said nothing, he couldn't. She had already deftly sliced apart his voicebox.
He did try to scream when she crushed his ribcage, but all that came out was a harsh gurgling.
The shield swirled more, its shining blue surface flickering like a Candle as the blood interacted with it, flowing down to the floor. His Life was seeping out of him. She kept on Cutting until the light faded from his eyes and his breath stopped. His body landed in the Pool of His Blood with a Thud and Splash. She ran her fingers through the still cooling liquid.
It tasted Like Iron.
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Topic: [Story] Like Iron (Read 1380 times)