Madness in a Cadenza

[Kaze]

Daniel Phillipe de Valons, born in New Paris, son of a tailor, was feeling bored. He looked up to the sky and all he saw was the distant flashes of explosions of the fighting far away. Stationed in Leeds for the past year, he could not wait for the rotation back home. "P**** de m****. I am tired of this." He muttered. The sound of footsteps, heavy combat boots by the sound of it, signaled the arrival of his relief. "Finally, Joseph. I thought I would have to get you. And hit you with a baguette." His relief, Joseph Marlin, born in Orleans, smirked sadly at the jest, and sighed. "You too? Oui.. We are tired of this gods forsaken place." Daniel stated. Joseph pulled a cigarrete out and Daniel quickly lit it up. "Merci... You know.." Joseph finally spoke. "I thought war was not pretty, even hellish.. But this?" He gestured with his hand. "This is worse. Guarding corridors and windows of an old asylum.. Our luck is really made of m****." A female voice whispered around them. "You have no idea." As they turned their heads, a blade sliced Joseph's throat with a cruel precision, and a silenced blaster shot penetrated Daniel's skull. Grey matter, half-liquefied, half burning splattered Joseph's face as he clutched his throat for dear life. Falling on his back, in anger he tried to grasp his weapon, a small automatic blaster, to shoot the assailant and take her with him to the afterlife. A black combat boot stepped on his hand, eliciting a small shout of pain that was more of a gurgle than a scream, and all he saw in the end was the muzzle of that silenced blaster. Kaze quickly dispatched both bodies into the small ventilation shaft from where she entered, not before grabbing both of their communicators and identification tags. With the jacket of one of them, she quickly wiped the floor and threw it to the ventilation shaft, closing the small grate. "Two down. And a filled asylum to go." She thought to herself, before moving on.

This was her game. The shadows. A wind caressing the walls and doors, unopposed and unstoppable. Whenever there was a security system ahead, Kaze quickly adapted. From diverting her route, posturing as a guard to the ultimate risk of killing, it was the game that she always knew how to play. The deaths in it were unbound and unchained of honor and guilt. They were soldiers, here to invade her home. To chain her people and make them kneel to an unknown and uncaring king. Thus, all bets were off, as her once leader said, before laying down whatever hell Silver could concoct in that sick mind of hers. And this game is what granted Kaze a color. The game of shadows and murder. Bloody murder, as the last one tried to scream, as her blade impaled him from the lower back, coming out of his chest, his eyes filled with horror and surprise at the sight of the bloody tip exiting his sternum. Her hand, covering his mouth and muffling his dying words, grabbing with such strength that his own jaw conceded to the superior force and shoved itself into his own head. One eye fell off his socket, and dangled in front of his face as his body fell to the floor, with its mind and strength gone, expired. Kaze rarely used this move for it was a ghastly way to die, but the position, the situation and her bionics told her it was the one to execute.

Footsteps were heard in the background. Was she detected? Did they found out any of the bodies? She was careful enough to the point of imitating them on the communicators. There was no time to hide her fresh kill. Her mind raced at the options and as all animals that are cornered, the real animals, there was only one way to go between a wall and incoming captors. So she ran, as fast as she could, to the entrance of this particular room, one of the security hubs of this section of the asylum. Two men entered, casually talking to each other, not minding their surroundings. "Callous." Kaze thought. But many of the guards in this garrison were like this. Tired of being stuck in a isolated building, away from the main cities, in a foreign occupied planet that did not wanted them there, and others, fresh from the core systems, that didn't had the experience to notice the minute details that make all the difference. Like the woman, above them, doing a very complicated gymnastic maneuver, pinning herself to the ceiling, with only one hand. Her biotic one. While the other trailed their heads with that silenced blaster of hers. Two shots, quick in sucession, and their life vaporized, as their brains melted and came out of their mouths, eyes and ears. One singular thump was heard. Not a second or a third. For she used the same timing of the bodies hitting the floor to land right in their middle. She flicked some small cement dust from her bionic hand and proceeded to drag them further into the room, relieving them from their identifications and finally taking the time to concentrate all the communication frequencies into her own comm-link. Reloading her blaster, she clicked the energy button, and that sound came onto its own. That humming that she knew very well, caressed her ears and comforted her, shoving aside the cold memories of Nevers. She was in a den of lions and jailers all over again.

But now, she was the hunter, and the executioner.

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES