WarpLocke
Prison Yard, the Zig - Nine minutes to the Cadre Breakout
Running against the flow of the riot wasn't easy, but the mass of prisoners learned quickly enough that anyone who got in Hank's way didn't stay there long. He broke away from the rioting mass in the yard, following the directions Mr. Weaver had given him at their meeting.
The guards and occasional Longbow troops were far more occupied at the far end of the yard keeping people inside the prison than stopping them from going the other way. WarpLocke dropped one of the two guards in his way with an energy blast to the throat, and grabbed the other to use as a battering ram on the door. It held up to a couple of solid hits, and then WarpLocke and his whimpering blunt instrument were inside the medical wing.
Mr. Mason had apparently come through on his promise. Someone had turned the radiation emitters in Hank's cell up to full the night before, giving him a near-full charge. His heart pounded triumphantly, filling him with its terrible strength. There was only one thing left to do.
He made his way through the corridors, ignoring the guards and occasional prisoners being carried in from the fighting outside. Up one flight of stairs, second on the right, and...
He bashed the door open with his now-unconscious hostage. The room's one occupant, a lab-coated doctor with a bloodied bandage around one arm, went pale as he advanced. He was close enough for Hank's enhanced vision to make out his nametag.
"Howdy, Doctor Langton," he grinned. "Little bird told me you might have implanted something or other in my chest when I came in here? I want it out."
"Y-you're crazy." Langton shook his head. "I won't help you."
"And you're callin' me crazy?" Hank laughed. "Have it your way. I got eight minutes before I need to be gone. You and your pal here got two arms and two legs each." He grabbed the arm of the man in his grip and twisted it to near breaking point. "You're the doctor, do the math."
Langton hesitated only a moment before some combination of terror and compassion overrode his other principles. He turned the desk behind him, unlocked one of the desk drawers, and pulled out a sheet with an x-ray. "There. It's in your chest, just above the ribcage. B-but eight minutes - we don't have time for surgery, or - "
"I always was more a fan of traditional medicine." Hank tossed the guard aside and smashed open one of the cabinets on the wall. He picked out of the biggest, sharpest scalpel of the lot, braced himself, and plunged it into his chest.
Langton stared in horror as WarpLocke rooted around under his own skin, oily black blood oozing from a widening wound. Finally, the blade met the right sort of resistance, and he prized the tiny sphere of metal out of his body and onto the floor. He stamped on it, hard.
"Now, Doc," he muttered through clenched teeth as he grabbed a roll of bandage and began to bind up the gaping wound he'd made. "Seems there's just one thing left to do." He could feel the change already; the constraining field that had kept him from feeding all this time was gone, and an old hunger, almost forgotten, started to surge back.
He grabbed the cowering Langton by the sides of his head and lifted him up to eye level. He waited until the man was utterly in the grip of mortal terror, until the hunger was at its peak. Then he kissed him on both cheeks, and released him.
"Much obliged, Doc," he called out as he made his way toward the door, leaving Langton in a trembling heap on the floor. "Keep up the good work."
The hunger gnawed at him like some caged beast. He laughed. He'd been through too much to let this thing control him. Being a slave to power was its own special kind of weakness. He charged ahead, forcing his way through the press of rioters to catch up with the rest of his Cadre.
Knights Exemplar: Wolfram, Autumnfox, Starlit Spirit.
Militia: The Portent, Wavekite, Mr. Sandman.
The Cadre: WarpLocke, Zajin.
Numerous others.
Third Degree Byrne
Zig Courtyard Three Minutes to Cadre Breakout
Time was short for Byrne. Ten minutes passed quickly, especially in a maze made more confusing by frenzied battles and fallen concrete. The rest of the Cadre had scattered, leaving Byrne to do his best to buy then some time before the flyer took off. He didnt trust the spiders but as they were the method of their extraction, he had no choice but to go with them. For now at least.
Hed tried to stay outside, letting the cool night air clear the fog in his lungs caused by the airborne sedative that had filled his cell. Finally able to feel the full stretch of his emotions at last, he found himself angry for being caged like an animal. Several Longbow patrols, already beaten from fighting with escaping prisoners had borne his rage, their scattered numbers running before his burning fury. However it was on his way to the flyer that he spotted an opportunity to vent against a more worthy target.
On one of the wider platforms surrounding the prison, a helicopter hovered with a ladder unfurled, allowing people to clamber up it. Still limping slightly, the grey-suited figure of Warden Trent hobbled his way to the ladder and began to climb, nervously watching for any unseen snipers. When he noticed the burning man glaring at him from the courtyard, he almost fell off the ladder before turning back and climbing at twice the rate he had before.
Byrne said nothing. He didnt need to. Running to one of the fallen walls, he grasped one of the steel beams that re-enforced the wall and pulled. Shattered concrete fell away from the beam as he hefted it as an improvised javelin, aiming at the helicopter as it began to drift away from the prison that had now become a war zone. Hurling the pole with all his might, he saw it glance off of one of the helicopters struts, sending the machine into a slow spin towards the ground. Byrne cursed under his breath as he saw the chopper fall, a muffled crunch signalling its rough landing somewhere on the other side of the wall. It was unlikely that the landing would have killed the accursed Warden but it might of gained him a few injuries at least. He was about to leap the wall when he heard the whine of the Flyers repulsion engines behind him. There was no time, he thought, calming the rage that wanted nothing but to burn and destroy. He spat on the floor and turned away before his ride left without him. Next time, he promised himself, next time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Dante Carver and Mystic's Dream
Prison Administration Block Seven minutes to Cadre Breakout
Elsewhere within the prison, away from the fighting, a number of prisoners were attempting to break into a locked office within which a number of prison guards had holed up, trying to fend off the inmates who were hungry for revenge.
Open up screws! demanded one, smashing at the door with a chair. Its payback time and you owe us!
He smiled with glee as shouting from the other side indicated the panic the guards were going through as the door began to break down. It was then that he noticed how dark it had become. The lights flickered out and even the ambient lighting seemed to descend into pitch black.
What the hells going on? he demanded, unable to see three inches in front of him.
Is that dark enough for you? asked a commanding male voice from somewhere in the darkness.
Plenty thanks pops, came the reply from a younger, female voice before all that could be heard was the crackling of electricity. The inmate, abandoning his attempts to break through the door, looked to flee, somewhere, anywhere where he could find light. Around him he heard the screams of his fellow prisoners as searing electricity arced around him, heard but unseen in the magical darkness. Unable to see, he stumbled over a fallen object before the lightning caught him, flaring in his mind before unconsciousness took him.
The guards tentatively opened the door to the barricaded room, revealing an older gentleman in a black suit stood next to a young girl in a revealing white costume. The man took a step forward.
The miscreants are incapacitated, he stated, you should find them easier to restrain now. With that, he turned and walked off, taking the hand of the girl who seemed to have difficulty seeing. The guards stepped out into the well lit corridor to see half a dozen inmates in various states of unconscious repose. They looked after the couple as they left, speechless.
The girl looked over her shoulder and smiled at the stunned guards. Youre welcome! she called back to them and then they were gone.
@Dante EU - Union Roleplayer and Altisis Victim
The Militia: Union RP Supergroup - www.themilitia.org.uk
Phytopath, Two minutes til Cadre breakout
Alfred's escape into the general population of riotring prisoners was somewhat unexciting.
He stood, immobile in direct sunlight. Drawing as much power from the sun as he could, his mossy, crusted feet rooting themselves in the thin topsoil of the yard. Every now and again a thorn would erupt from his bulk and be propelled by unseen forces at anyone that drew too near. He waited, and fed, and watched.
Machine gun fire tore earthy chunks from his flank, provoking at last a direct response from the man of mulch.
He sneered, closing his eyes and summoned help from the roots in the soil under his feet. Entangling, razor edged tendrils erupted from the ground, grabbing the Longbow gunner, the vegetative teeth tearing at his legs. He screamed once, before Alfred's now fully thorned fist punched through his throat.
The Flyer was approaching fast. Alfred focused his energies on moving at last, striding across the bullet torn prison yard. A grenade landed next to him, the muffled explosion more than adequately ripping his left arm off at the elbow. Incapable of feeling pain as others did, Alfred merely grunted his disgust and moved on, trailing torn and ragged plant matter from the horribly bloodless wound.
The others had reached the Flyer, climbing on board as he rounded the wall it had sheltered behind. He had just grabbed the handrail of the wing door....
The explosion threw his impressive bulk back thirty feet. Longbow flamers surrounded him as he bellowed in fury, before shrieking in terror as their flames engulfed him, pouring superheated gas onto him until nothing remained but ash. Ash, and the hand he'd left behind on the Flyer's handrail.
The Flyer lifted off, hitting its boosters to clear the prison wall before the heavy guns could be brought to bear. As the others settled back in their seats the hand trembled, seemed to visibly swell in the sunlight, then fell from the Flyer, shower the streets below with countless parachuted seeds.
Black Golem
Ten Minutes til The Cadre Breakout
On hearing the words 'Ten minutes' of freedom out in the riot, Golem exploded with ferocity into a cloud of twinkling black matter, siphoning off into the wind.
Nearbye, one inmate was poised over a beaten guard with a large slab of concrete lifted high over his head in an attempt to deliver a lethal blow. This was an opportunity to be taken advantage of if ever there was one. After dealing with the inmate, the guard would no doubt make his appreciation known to his unseen saviour and then when he least suspected. Two men. One pinned down and quickly suffocated. The other breathing through punctured holes in his lungs.
Next, a group of felons in orange jump suits forming a human bridge to climb to freedom. Alongside their construction a young man with red hair and a scar across his face, jumped back and forth over the fence like a ferry, carrying his human cargo into Paragon City one at a time. Huddling around, fifty men waited impatiently for their turns, every one of them, a former member of the Outcasts.
Golem pushed into the horde, knocking the next man to go forwards as he landed. "Who tha fu' are yo--"
The men parted as one of their colleagues dropped to the ground spraying blood from filthy wounds in his neck. "What the hell!?" one of them cried out, though most others seemed unphased by the spasming body, continuing their bid for freedom with renewed vigilance and suspicion. Escape was the only thing on their minds.
Returning from a successful trip, the springfoot taxi landed and glanced around the men nervously. "Well what the hell are you waiting for?!" One of the larger Outcasts pushed forward, trailing large Anti-Flight inhibitors wrapped around bare feet and then hugged his ticket to freedom. He did a pathetic little jolt that got him nowhere, trying to jump into open arms, but not quite making it work. "Don't get any funny ideas..." said the taxi man bluntly.
Looking down, the two found the source of their problem... The brown dirt faded to black sand, creeping up around their feet like it was hungry.
"OH SHI-" was all they could manage.
Eventually the oblivious and immobile human bridge would succumb to the same fate. A few hairy clawing hands protruding from the once again, brown dirt, were the only clues to the horrific reality. Golem snapping one of the hands back on itself as he walked over it, looking around for new victims, his hunt continued. One man loses his voice. Twenty seven souls are buried alive.
Directly infront of him, across the wastes, the battle between hero and villain raged on. It called to him like... but wait! There... just above everything flailing arms of desperate men were grasping at the outside world as if it were made of diamonds. Trapped inside they chaos were a far easier target.
"There's simply not enough of me to go around." he said to himself, as he placed his hands together for prayer. The Sand that form his body grew slightly and with them he pushed his shoulders apart, tearing a large gap down his spine, that grew and literally cut his body to two halves.
Each side poured into into piles and then took the shape of men, the size of children. Children of the Black Sand, and, when the features on their faces took shape and form, one stood grinning maniacally while the other could only grimace with malcontent.
The Great Ziggursky and her Courtyard? Now there was enough Rak'ha to go around.
It takes Chaos to move the world to Action.
Tarana
Zig Courtyard Six Minutes to Cadre Breakout
Only six minutes left!, Tarana thought. She had headed towards the courtyard as Lomax had shown her. Because that would be where the Arachnos flyer should be standing ready for her. Along the way she came across several guards who where in combat with Arachnos soldiers. Overlooking the yard from the shadows she noticed that some heroes from around also gotten involved and where trying to stop the escapees.
Tarana searched for a safe way around. She wasn't ready to fight a hero now. First make sure to get free, then everything will be alright. Looking up she suddenly was reminded of some unfinished business. A few guards where manning a search-light so snipers could have a good view. And Tarana recognised Joe from solitary.
A smile came on her face and she started to climb the prison wall... making some wall holes with her fingers along the way to be able to. Joe was holding a gun when Tarana appeared right next to him. She grabbed it and pulled him towards her with it. "Hello Joe...", she said with a smirk. Holding him in front of her so his colleagues couldn't shoot. "This is youre lucky day..." Tarana grabbed his throat like a vice.
"Tarana... no... I... Sorrwee... kuch...", Joe tried to say. But Tarana already was squishing his throat to the point that breathing became rather impossible.
"Goodbye Joe...", She said to him softly giving him a kiss but not letting go of his throat. She felt the last of his air escaping in her mouth as his body became limp.
The guards behind them regained their nerve... realising they didn't have to be afraid of shooting Joe anymore. A bullet barely misses her head. Tarana looked up and threw the lifeless body of Joe against them. Then jumped down the wall out of sight.
She crossed the courtyard... Suddenly a catlike heroine appeared in front of her and knocked her down. Tarana looked up and saw that the hero had grey fur and a tail. "Tell them back in you're cell that Nightseye got to you.", the hero said just seconds before four other in-mates ganked her from behind.
"Why should I...", Tarana replied toward the fighting group while running to the other side of the yard. Still remembering her promise to try and stay out of the way of any heroes during the whole breakout.
- The Italian Job: The Godfather Returns #1151
Beginner - Encounter a renewed age for the Mook and the Family when Emile Marcone escapes from the Zig!
- Along Came a... Bug!? #528482
Average - A new race of aliens arrives on Earth. And Vanguard has you investigate them!
- The Court of the Blood Countess: The Rise of the Blood Countess #3805
Advanced - Go back in time and witness the birth of a vampire. Follow her to key moments in her life in order to stop her! A story of intrigue, drama and horror! Blood & Violence... not recommend to solo!
[ QUOTE ]
Phytopath, Two minutes til Cadre breakout
Alfred's escape into the general population of riotring prisoners was somewhat unexciting.
He stood, immobile in the prison yard. Drawing as much power from the blood soilled and still drying on the scant earth, his mossy, crusted feet rooting themselves in the thin topsoil of the yard. Every now and again a thorn would erupt from his bulk and be propelled by unseen forces at anyone that drew too near. He waited, and fed, and watched.
Machine gun fire tore earthy chunks from his flank, provoking at last a direct response from the man of mulch.
He sneered, closing his eyes and summoned help from the roots in the soil under his feet. Entangling, razor edged tendrils erupted from the ground, grabbing the Longbow gunner, the vegetative teeth tearing at his legs. He screamed once, before Alfred's now fully thorned fist punched through his throat.
The Flyer was approaching fast. Alfred focused his energies on moving at last, striding across the bullet torn prison yard. A grenade landed next to him, the muffled explosion more than adequately ripping his left arm off at the elbow. Incapable of feeling pain as others did, Alfred merely grunted his disgust and moved on, trailing torn and ragged plant matter from the horribly bloodless wound.
The others had reached the Flyer, climbing on board as he rounded the wall it had sheltered behind. He had just grabbed the handrail of the wing door....
The explosion threw his impressive bulk back thirty feet. Longbow flamers surrounded him as he bellowed in fury, before shrieking in terror as their flames engulfed him, pouring superheated gas onto him until nothing remained but ash. Ash, and the hand he'd left behind on the Flyer's handrail.
The Flyer lifted off, hitting its boosters to clear the prison wall before the heavy guns could be brought to bear. As the others settled back in their seats the hand trembled, seemed to visibly swell in the sunlight, then fell from the Flyer, shower the streets below with countless parachuted seeds.
[/ QUOTE ]
Edited
The Courtyard Clash
3 Minutes Til Cadre Escape
Mystics Dream rounded the corner before Dante , rushing forwards pre-emptively. This section of courtyard was almost empty, most prisoners having either made a break for it, dashing back to the Zig to avoid the Longbow Eagles or engaged in Riots in other areas of the Courtyard. To her dead eyes, Dream could see the twisted metal from the walls as they radiated magnetism, the grey concrete invisible to her. Stood in the middle of the yard was the electrostatic signature of a man floating above the ground, surrounding him, a number of bodies, their neurons failing as they died. The figures neural patterns were erratic though, as he fell to the floor and writed into the same state as all the others, Dream detected something she'd missed on first glance. It was slightly, more or less than human. She saw a hazy image, only able to pick up the sparks of static electricity that jumped between the particles in its form. Gathered in a humanoid outline in the abyss that she could perceive, the silhouette shifted unnaturally, making it hard for her to work out what she was facing.
Halt! commanded Dante as he sped into view, seeing Black Golem surrounded by dozens of dead men. The Golem roared in a whisper that would seem to have purged its lungs. This was a sound that Mystic understood to be malevolent, only creatures from the void made those cries. Without hesitation, she thrust her palms forward, blasting lightning from her hands that arced across the courtyard, jumping between pockets of air and loose particles before meeting its target. The humanoid then split on impact as if it had exploded, though the head, arms and legs were still clearly visible to her. Its cloudy body giving way to the electricity as it sparked through the opening, hitting a metal fence behind it. The creatures evasion left it stranded, allowing an opening for Dante to strike it with arcane fear. Dark energy bound the creature to the spot, rooting it from whatever nightmares lived inside its consciousness, at that, it began to hiss and split from its form entirely, spinning over and under itself like a pile of fighting snakes. Mystic tried lowering her frequency, attuning herself to the voltage of the Golem's brainwaves, but it's current form was nothing but particles, no brain was even present in the mysterious creature. With that she upped the power and hit it with a wide burst of paralytic static that caught it in a net. It's overall writhing slowed dramatically though some fleeting spikes of black sand shot from the mass like the kicks and twitches of a sedated animal, in the grasp of both heroes it was surely doomed.
Dante signalled to a passing guard, gesturing for him to bring a containment unit to restrain the fluctuating column of matter. It was then he noticed the insidious hiss of flowing sand as the earth beneath them began to shift and scorch a midnight black. A devilishly mischievous, high pitched cackle of laughter signalled cried out from beneath them. Dante had two theories, either the monster could split, or it had a friend. Either way, it was no longer out numbered.
With a rush, the creature rose up, a figure emerging from the black sand as it encompassed Dantes legs. Dream watched as best she could, unable to attack for fear of hitting him. The figure sprouted a number of sandy arms, each ending in a fist that pounded on the ancient mage. Fighting off the arms that dissolved and reformed to strike elsewhere, he struck forward with his fist, aiming for the creatures chest. As expected, it opened a cavity so Dante struck nothing but air, exactly as hed intended.
Asht shalat infernis! he commanded, opening his hand wide. An energy shockwave exploded from his palm, blowing the black figure apart, scattering the grains of sand to the wind. Freed, he rose from the ground only to see the sand swirling around Mystics Dream. The synapses comprising Black Golems mind sparked around her, confusing her, making it hard to perceive anything beyond the dust.
Her concentration shattered, the field entrapping the other golem dropped, the sand hitting the floor with a soft hiss. Gathering itself, it rejoined the dust cloud before launching itself at Dante, striking him to the floor.
As the mage and his apprentice attempted to recover, the sand dispersed, scattering itself on the wind, before reforming atop one of the concrete walls.
"Sayonara Heroes! Euuuuhahahahahahahahaha!" it called with a cackle and a mocking wave before exploding onto the wind again, sifting off in the direction of the hovering Arachnos flier.
Dante watched as the flier powered up its Engines and sped off into the sky. He muttered Arabic curse words beneath his breath, before dusting himself down for stray sand particles.
<Written by Dante, Edited by Hatesman>
It takes Chaos to move the world to Action.
Nadja Romanov
Prison Yard, The Zig Four minutes to The Cadre Breakout
Nadja reeled backwards from the latest blow. Her gymnast training taking over as she stepped backwards along the wall she was balanced on, still with a modicum of poise, as the Longbow agent Sachs advanced leaving a trail of smoke from her damaged flight pack.
Nadja could sense Sachs' anger, as palpable as the tears soaking into her Longbow facemask.
Sachs hit her again. And again Nadja stepped back. This time she felt a wall at her back. She looked down. On one side of the wall, prisoners spilled into the yard looking for their ticket out. And on the other, more prisoners. The pale blue letter E on their prison uniforms marked them as the sexual predators and beasts that were kept segregated for their own safety. Many of them were baying at the two women locked in combat above them.
Sachs steeled herself. I dont know why I was ever afraid of you, Romanov. Take away your fancy talk and your superior looks and youre nothing special.
Sachs pushed Nadja back into the wall. The force of the flight pack giving applying more pressure and she forced Nadja into the flaking concrete.
And without a weapon, Sachs continued. Youve got nothing!
Nadja tasted the coppery warmth of her own blood in her mouth. She half smiled as she looked at the Longbow woman. Who said Im without a weapon?
She plunged the sharpened point of the hairdresser comb into Sachs' lower back. Twisted the shiv as she tore through her opponents spine. She swiped her leg hard, sweeping Sachs legs from under her. The Longbow officers flight pack kicked in and thrust her into the ground below.
The inmates of E Block cheered as they fought for the first taste of their unexpected prize. The terror in Sachs' eyes was the only sign she was conscious as her lifeless body was dragged into the shadows.
Nadja Romanov
Prison Yard, The Zig One minute to The Cadre Breakout
Nadja could see the flyer as walked purposefully across the prison yard.
She turned, distracted briefly from her goal, as someone called her name. A young woman prisoner was calling her from inside one of the sewer outlet pipes in the yard.
In spite of herself Nadja moved closer to the tunnel. The girl was on the other side of thick, rusting iron bars.
Nadja, said the young inmate. Its Nadja, isnt it? Help me out of here please. She turned to look back down the pipe. I can hear them. I can hear them coming this way. Help me.
Nadja looked at her. She recognised her as the girl whod sat at her table the day shed added fatal frosting to Matildas pudding in the canteen. There was a wild desperation in her eyes. And something else Nadja couldnt quite place.
I dont have time, said Nadja, turning away.
Wait! said the girl in a half shriek. I know something
something thatll make you want to help me. I
She turned. Theyre getting real close now.
Nadja looked at the flyer then back at the girl. You dont have anything, she replied. Then, in a rare moment of compassion, she tossed the blood-caked comb through the bars at the girl. Good luck.
Nadja Romanov
Inside Arachnos Flyer, Prison Yard, The Zig The Cadre Breakout
Nadja pulled off the blood stained vest and trousers she was wearing. Even naked, she had a cold confidence despite being in an enclosed space with several men just escaped from prison. He balance didnt falter as the flyer rose into the air. She opened a black bag that was on one of the seats. The black Night Widow suit inside fitted toned lines like a second skin. She ran her hand over the cool surface of her arm, resting for a second on the hidden telescopic blades laced with poison.
She looked at the men, monsters and woman in the flyer with her. For the time being this was her future.
This was The Cadre.
@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko
Nadja Romanov
Prison Yard, The Zig Ten minutes to The Cadre Breakout
Ten minutes until freedom. The grip of the machine gun was cold in her hand as Nadja Romanov looked back over the chaos in the prison yard. Inmates were running riot, driven crazy by the possibility of escape. But perhaps more by the stench of blood and violence in their air.
She watched the rest of Mr Masons Cadre divide and melt into the running battles between inmates, guards, Arachnos and Longbow. This was the last chance to make her own play, but it would mean placing all her chips with Arachnos and Krieger. And her father didnt raise any fools.
Something whistled past her head and split one of the links in the fence behind her with a metallic twang. She cursed herself for losing concentration, made herself as small a moving target as possible and raised the gun to return fire.
A muscular Longbow agent with a red beard was walking towards her. His handgun aimed at her head. She recognised him as Sergeant Massey who had interrogated her after her arrest.
I told you Id bring Commander Stonefangs killer to justice, Romanov, he called. I just didnt think youd be stupid enough to give me the opportunity so soon.
She fired. He was fast; the bullets meant for his head just grazed his shoulder.
Nadja ran for cover, hiding behind a wall of rubble. Forgive me if I let my gun do the talking, Massey. Come closer so she can whisper in your ear.
A cloud of dust exploded from the wall behind her as a bullet struck.
The first shot was just to get your attention, Romanov. Ive been handling guns since I was six-years-old, Im the best shot in my class. The next one is going between your eyes.
Nadja hunched down. She couldnt get a shooting position or even move to see where Massey was without exposing herself. In front of her was a small gap in the rubble. She peered through; it was dark but she could see a ***** of light. She threw the gun into the gap and squeezed herself in after it.
The concrete shifted and groaned and she crawled through. The ***** of light was coming through a hole not much bigger than her fist. Through it she could see Masseys red and white boots. She mapped out his position in her mind before putting the barrel to the hole and pulled the trigger.
She dusted herself off as she walked across the yard to Massey. He was writhing on the ground; his ankles were chewed up and bloody as if a wild dog had attacked him.
Masseys arm shook as he tried to aim his gun. It fell from his hand when Nadjas shot destroyed his elbow. Three more shots ruined his other elbow and both his knees.
His screams merged with the cacophony of violence all around them.
Nadja aimed her gun at his head. Youre supposed to be one of the good guys, Massey. The moment you broke your own rules this became inevitable."
Click. Nadja pulled the empty clip from the gun and tossed it to the ground. She stood over Massey and sat on his stomach, her legs straddling him. Im out of bullets, she said. I guess this shouldve been your lucky day.
She cracked the butt of the gun hard into Masseys face. The second blow broke bone. And the next. When shed finished his face was an unrecognisable mess of pulp and gore. As red as the bone peppered blood splattered over her white vest.
Nadja dropped the machine gun.
Massey!
Nadja turned. Masseys partner Sachs was hovering overhead with the aid of a flight pack. Shock turned to anger behind her red and white Longbow mask.
@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko