101(Soundtrack not available for this part)
I stared at the knife sticking out of my chest. Blood bubbled up around the blade and flowed across my clothes.
A strangled gasp left my lungs as they filled with fluid.
The man bending over me grinned as he pulled the blade out of my body. The wound made a sucking sound that hurt more than I could explain in words. He lifted the blade once more as my fingers closed around the gun hidden behind him as he bent down to finish the job.
"Ready to die?"
I coughed up blood, "Are you?" I managed to gargle as I pulled the trigger.
The bullet traveled through his body and up into his brain. A shot in a million, had the CIMM not been at my disposal. As it was, I just had to ensure the trajectory was right and then it was a piece of cake. Albeit, a painfully blood-encrusted cake.
The man collapsed on the ground as Ethe ran over, "Tawny Felis, you were supposed to wait!" He stared down at the blood and injury as he lifted me gently, "The others are too far back, I can't heal this!"
I grinned up at him, "But the point is we stopped him this time," I felt more blood and lung tissue gathering, "mission accomplished," the second word ended in a rattling cough.
"Tawny!" I heard Koll yell before I passed out.
(Soundtrack 1: Gunslinger- Avenged Sevenfold)
. . .
. . .
SIMULATION ENDED.
MISSION STATUS: SUCCESS.
BODY COUNT: 1.
STATUS OF SOLDIER #4012: DESCEASED
I woke up as Mallagon unplugged my brain from the Department's simulation program, "Ow," I groaned as I sat up, putting a hand to my chest. No blood. No injury. That was the one thing about the Sims I hated. They were realistic to the point where it hurt. I could thank Hollywood for that last Simulation.
In fact, I could thank Hollywood and writers for most of my agony. Them, and the Department. Books and movies like The Hunger Games and Inception gave the Department their ideas.
I glanced back down at my hand, just to be sure. The Sim messed with my mind, something I disliked. But then there was a lot about my life I disliked such as my lack of memory or-
"What was that?" Koll asked, bringing me out of my head. Koll was my handsome Unit member, blessed with stunning gray eyes, wavy brown hair that made him look semi-feminine but he had the rugged look in his favor.
"What?" I asked, sitting up, "We completed the mission this time."
"But you died," Ethe said, "in my arms. Talk about nightmares for weeks," he shook his head. Ethe was the image of a flirt, dark eyes, dark hair, charming grin. Little smaller than Koll but still just as powerful.
"Am I the only one seeing the good side here?" I asked them both. My own appearance was less than stunning. Brown hair that I had to fight into submission, brown eyes, the only thing noticeably different about me was the smile I wore often. Few of us smiled.
"And what is the good side?" They said in sync.
I grinned, "We completed the mission."
They stared at me.
"She's right," Mallagon said, "though I thought that was a real nasty twist this time, Tawny. He killed you with your own knife," he took a deep breath and shook his head.
I put a hand to my knife, the one around my neck. It was a handmade Sticecraft Tsuki blade with midnight blue ray skin and black wrap. It was a small knife, but it was a good knife. I loved it because something told me that it had some tie to my past. Whatever it was, the knife was still my favorite over of the ones the Department supplied for us.
And I had first-hand experience that it hurt and worked well at the job it was made for.
"You're telling me," I answered Mallagon, shaking my head as I stood up, "at least this time I didn't get crushed."
"No, just stabbed," Mallagon replied, "which is actually better. With a stabbing, we can often save the victim."
I sent Koll a triumphant look.
"But in your case you would have died anyway," Mal finished.
Way to ruin the gloating. Koll returned the triumphant look.
"But your team should have been right behind you," Mallagon admitted, "so you all could improve."
That was annoying. Yet, as always, Mallagon was right. He had nice blue eyes and chocolate-and-honey skin, a deep voice, and calming presence. Which was impressive for a guy only a few years my senior. He'd already survived being Chosen and was an instructor and my Unit's commander.
"Alright, your next class is awaiting you, Tawny. Get a move on, I'll work some more with these two," Mallagon said.
I nodded and waved to my team members as I headed to my room. I had Acting Class with Luther next which meant that I needed to get out of combat clothes and into plain white.
I changed quickly, pulling my shirt over my head as I reached for the door. To my surprise it opened before my hand touched the knob and I jumped back, ready for a fight as my hand went to the knife that always hung from its sheath around my neck.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Lio said.
Lio was the only other person who got to skip class with me, but I guess it had something to do with us both being The Face of The Chosen. He had skin that made him look like he had a permanent tan and Asian heritage that made his hair and eyes dark. His chestnut hair was cut short but accentuated his fine jaw and good nose. His brown eyes were darker than mine, bordering on black.
To make a long back-story short, I lost my memory. I woke up one morning, not knowing who I was or what I had been, with a list of names tattooed down my left shoulder-blade and the insignia of the Chosen. Waking up with amnesia is not something I recommend, it does a lot to your emotions. As it was, I had to retake acting class because I was the face of the rest of the government-controlled Department and those messed up emotions had to be controlled for the News. (For full details, see "I Am Chosen" for the back-story.)
Lio needed to focus on his own acting skills as well so it was sort of a 'get out of combat class free' pass.
"It's alright," I said, relaxing, "ready?"
"Yep, ready when you are," he said, 'and you're all dressed so let's go."
We were both barefoot. In fact, all of the Chosen were barefoot whenever they were in classes. I don't know why but it was sort of normal now.
We walked down the hall, our bare feet softly slapping the black floors. That was the weird thing about the Department, the walls were glaringly white and plain, the floor depressingly black and empty.
I pushed away those thoughts, the Department was all I knew. And besides, the Department could listen and see everything I saw and did. So it didn't really matter. They knew how I felt about their terrible sense of decor and hadn't changed it so obviously my feelings didn't matter.
"What do you think today's lesson will be on?" I ventured to break the silence.
"Probably the graces and skills of throwing a real tantrum," Lio said, grinning.
"Or the problems of giving a loopy performance," I added, feeling my own smile stretch across my face.
"Something like that," he agreed.
We still had two more hallways to cross and then two more floors to travel but the silence had come back again, unobtrusively as it always did.
"Can I ask you something?" I pressed.
"Sure," Lio nodded.
I paused before I decided to spill it, "Do you think my family is out there waiting for me to come back?"
He looked uncomfortable, like he was holding something back, "I'm sure your family loves you," he finally said, "and that they are watching you."
The CIMM picked up the telltale signs of someone not telling the truth. The slight hesitation in his voice, the downward gaze, the broken eye-contact, and the downward turn of his mouth.
A pang of worry laced with curiosity hit me. What was he thinking? Why was he holding back? What didn't he want me to know?
"Oh," I said, the disappointment obvious in my voice. I wanted him to hear it, maybe it would get him to tell me what happened. But he only stared ahead as we walked.
So much for that idea. Guys don't seem to excel at mind reading.
(Soundtrack 2: Brown Eyed girl, Van Morrison)
"Alright," Luther said, "just like we ran through yesterday, be sure you feel angry."
I stood on the stage with the light glaring into my face, "But I thought we finished yesterday. We already learned how to argue, why do we have to go over this again?"
Rubbing his face with a hand, Luther joined Lio and I on the stage and turned me so that I faced Lio, "Because while you two can act convincingly, you need to be able to do this to him just as convincingly."
I stared at Lio, trying to imagine how he would react if I did what Luther wanted. I didn't like the reaction I came up with, "I don't think I can do this," I admitted.
"Which is why you need to try this now," Luther said. He was shorter than me but his presence was unmistakable, he had that air of control that Mallagon also radiated. His blonde hair and green eyes made him the perfect actor and Luther embraced that door and became an instructor.
"Can't we do it later?" I asked, really trying my hardest to get out of it.
"No," Luther said, "now I'm going to go and sit in the seats and you two are going to act this out. It better be believable too because I have a camera."
I sighed, "I'm sorry about this," I told Lio.
Lio shrugged, "It's alright, it's for a good cause," he grinned.
That didn't help.
"And," Luther called as he turned on the old slow-motion camera he treasured, "ACTION!"
I faced Lio, putting my hands on my hips, "I thought I told you to close the door," I snapped, going along with the role I was given.
"Yeah, well I don't care!" Lio said, crossing his arms and turning away.
"Oh, no you don't!" My voice rose as he started to walk away, "You get back here right now!"
"Make me," Was Lio's snide reply over his shoulder.
This was the part I didn't want to do. But I had to do it. So I stomped over, grabbed Lio's shirt, and hesitated a mere fraction of a moment before I let loose with a head-ringing slap.
"And CUT!" Luther called.
I winced as Lio put a hand to where I'd hit his cheek, "I'm sorry," I said, chewing on my lip, "how's your face?"
"It's alright," Lio said, grinning through pain-induced watery eyes.
Luther hopped back up on the stage with the camera in hand, "Take a look," he said.
The camera had captured the slapping scene in milliseconds so we slowly watched me prepare to hit Lio.
"Right there," Luther pointed out, "is where you showed your true feelings."
About three frames before I actually hit him, the camera showed the discomfort and the indecision on my face as the fourth frame showed my hand making it's upwards descent towards Lio's face.
"So you have to do it again," Luther concluded.
I groaned, "But I don't want to hit him!"
Lio nodded, "I don't want her to hit me!" He agreed.
Luther laughed, "Of course not, but this is acting. You have to do it, whether you want to do it or not is nuance."
I frowned, "Well that stinks."
Nodding Luther hopped back down, calling back to us, "I know. Alright," he settled into a chair grinning, "Take two! Action!"
Lio sighed, "He enjoys this too much."
We went through the argument again and this time I let my hand fly before I could think twice.
"CUT!" Luther called.
That second slap had really stung and there was a hand-print on Lio's face. I shook my tingling hand, "Was that better?" I asked Luther, praying we didn't have to do this a third time.
"Nope," Luther shouted back, jovially.
"Crud," Lio said.
"Just kidding," Luther laughed, "you got it perfect."
Author's Note:
Here it is! I wish I could explain how excited I am in words but sometimes words fail even the best author. (I mean come on, even Shakespeare was human. At least, I think he was. . . I'm sure even he ran out of words sometimes.)
More will be coming soon!
I hope this was worth the wait, sort of dove into the action this time instead of gradually preparing you guys. We'll see how it turns out! XD
Ink