53 (Aura x Wiggle)

[Aura]

Inconspicuous. Unseen. Invisible. Unassuming. Silent. She repeated these words and similar variations of these thoughts in her head as she tugged at the hood that was pulled over her head. She hadn't done anything that would unnecessary attention to herself, but she couldn't be too cautious... one could never know when it came to the Agency and it's moves. She hoped that she would eventually learn that she was overreacting but she had to assume that they had sent a Lone Wolf after her, they had done worse for less based on her knowledge. For now... for now she had to assume that someone was after her and that she had to remain cautious and inconspicuous until it looked like nobody was.


This caution was why she was here now. Carbirmar was an ideal location for her and it had been the clear choice for when she had decided to flee. It was an old, dense, and sprawling city filled with refugees and criminals just like her. It was a city where people went to disappear and too many people vanished into the rotting city that was Carbirmar to count or to keep track of. It was a city that few people entered willingly because it was one of the worst urban centers... though that was saying a lot.


"Little bird," a man with crooked yellowed teeth purred as she walked by and she felt his clawed hands curl around the edge of her jacket. She had adopted the name Wren since leaving and this man was one of the few who knew her by this name. She had identified with the name Wren so much so that she had adopted it as her alias... what fit her better than the name of a small bird which generally was seen as small and inconspicuous save for their loud and intricate songs and their often bold behaviour?


"Cade," she said in a small reserved voice being careful not to let any inflection or tone into her voice because she felt as if she knew where this was heading. She had paid Cade a generous amount of gold in order to spend several nights at his lean-to, a fragile-looking collection of garbage and sticks delicately balanced into a make-shift structure with a thin soiled blanket draped over the top as a crude method of creating privacy. She had never intended to spend more than a few nights at this shelter before moving to the next. The only thing worse than sharing such a tight space with a stranger was being caught without shelter on the streets at night. Muggings and rape were not rare events in Carbirmar even during the day so being alone at night was a death sentence.


She had decided to take her chances with Cade over her own alone, "I was thinking of upping the payment to stay here," he said in a slimy voice and despite her best attempts Wren felt her mouth pull into a grimace. She had initially been surprised that she had made it through two whole nights without facing any harassment. Cade looked like a weak man with thin leathery skin stretched taut over bones and a graying mass of hair framing gaunt cheeks and a hunch in his back but the sharp, calculating, dark eyes revealed the nature of Cade in a similar way that his actions had done in Carbirmar. Cade wasn't an awful man by Carbirmar standards but he was a major player in the drug trade in the city despite the slovenly home indicating that he was dirt-poor.


"I've got money," she said in a flat tone. She had been mentally preparing herself for Carbirmar's evils so she knew better than to indicate any signs of fear or discomfort or she would be prey. Cade said nothing and instead the fingers tugging at her jacket became more insistent...


"There are a million other sleazy members of the cartel who will take my gold as payment," she said decisively.


"There are only a handful who wouldn't have slit your throat by now," Cade said just as firmly... which was likely the truth. Wren did not fight against his crawling and probing fingers but she did struggle to withdraw two things from her jacket.


"You can choose one," she said withdrawing a sizeable pouch and a knife which she awkwardly maneuvered to his throat. His hold on her made her movements awkward and she wound up drawing a bead of blood and though that had not been her intent she felt it was probably effective for her purpose.


Cade's lips split apart into a toothless grin and he was laughing heavily, "Showing your cards too soon, little bird. You're going to get murdered in your sleep for your gold and that pretty little knife if you keep flashing them like that," and he walked away chuckling.


Wren readjusted her hood over her face and began walking in the opposite direction of Cade. She was certain that she could spend the night safely at Cade's for at least another night. She had specifically sought to stay with Cade when she had heard rumours that she bore a near-identical resemblance to his recently murdered daughter. Even in Carbirmar, sentimentality could be trusted and manipulated.


@Wiggle

 

[Wiggle]

Agony. That's all he felt, all of it. His entire being was pure agony, and didn't respond to any movements that his brain ordered his muscles to do. He finally found the strength to barely move his torso, but was met with another wave of intense pain and he clenched what little teeth he had left and prayed to whatever God would listen to take his pain away from him. Whoever was out there listened, because he faintly heard yelling in the distance, and must have blacked out because the next thing he heard was boots crunching gravel, and then voices.


"Most of them are dead, Captain." A man with a gravelly voice.


He wanted to cry out, and tell them that he was here, he was alive. He didn't care if they killed him, or saved him, all he wished was for the pain to leave. They didn't hear him, and kept on about the bodies. What bodies? What had happened? Why was he like this? Why couldn't he see? Or feel, or move his arms and legs? He clenched his jaw again and gave everything he had, and muttered a weak groan.


"What was that?" One asked.


"Over here!" Another answered. "There's one that's still alive!"


"Get a stretcher!" Another called. "I know this guy, he's a bloody legend! The Agency will definitely want him."


He must have passed out, because when he woke, he was in somewhere cold, and it hurt his skin, and made him clench his eyes and jaw in pain. He faintly remembered the crash of a helicopter, then a deafening explosion, several screams of agony and pain, and then blackness. He couldn't see a thing, and felt like his skin was on fire, and there was no feeling from his arms and legs. He felt another presence above him, and he tried to ask for help.


"He's pretty beat up." A voice said. "He's got 3rd degree burns over nearly eighty percent of his body, he's lost his left leg, amputated from the upper femur down. The rest of his limbs are way too damaged to recover. Both arms are nearly crushed, and the leg is broken in several places. He's lost both eyes, and an ear. He's both lucky and unlucky to be alive."


"Enough, can you rebuild him?" Another asked. "His file, what's not censored, is amazing."


"Yeah, we can." He said. "He's a perfect candidate for Project Alpha 82."


"Do it."


He passed out shortly after that, and awoke some time later. He could see this time, and glanced around the room. He was in a room with white washed walls, several medical equipment that beeped and monitored his vitals. He counted to glance around the room, until he was satisfied that he was alone. He reached up and grasped the metal railing on the side of the bed, and pulled himself up. There was a soft groaning sound, and when he pulled his hand from the rail, it was crushed. He looked dumbfounded at the railing for a moment, and then at the door as he heard voices from behind it.


"How long until he wakes up?" A man asked. "I'm tried of waiting, he's supposed to be the best we've got, completely outfitted with every prototype we've got. He's going to be our flagship, and he'll always have the best, right?"


"Right."


"Then open the fucking door."


He cast his gaze to his legs, which were covered by the bedsheets, just as the door opened.


"Seems he's awake, General."


"Good Morning, son!" The gray haired man said.


"Who am I?" was His first question. "What am I?"


"You're 53, son." Came the General's answer. "And you're the best."





---


53 sat on top of a smaller building, and looked out over the sprawling, decaying city known as Carbirmar. The city was always alive, and never slept, so there were several things that 53 had to tune out to be able to hear his surroundings. He was here, hunting for a traitor, someone who had gone where they weren't allowed. A young lady, once a computer hacker for the Agency, now prey for the Lone Wolves. She had seemed to be able to avoid every other Lone Wolf, and so the agency sent 53. 53 was a special case, as there was naught a single word on him in the entire Agency database, save for one number, 53. Highly regarded as a legend, or propaganda thrown out there by the Agency, 53 was a ghost in the PMC world, and was their best. Always fitted with the latest and greatest equipment, 53 was nearly unstoppable, and especially so with his artificial limbs and organs. He had coerced many of the local members of the cartel that ran this part of the town into giving up information, usually at the cost of a finger or a limb, and many had been quick to give her up due to the threat of bodily harm. The woman known as Hannah Crawford had taken on the name of Wren, a fitting name for someone so small, yet who sung a bold song, or so he had heard. By her pattern of behavior, she was more than likely to turn tail and run, and then attack if cornered, much like an animal. That was okay for 53, he always felt that if they ran, it was easier for them to be caught. He always warned them that they would die tired if they chose to ran, and yet, they always didn't heed his advice.


He lightly tapped the heel of his boot against the brick of the building he sat on, his bio-mechanical eyes scanning the surrounding area. Several people walked around with their hoods drawn over their heads, and 53 turned his gaze to the sky. It was threatening to rain, as the clouds were a dark, dark gray. 53 pursed his lips at the sky, and then turned his attention back to the rabble of people below. It was getting late, and soon the less desirable people would surface. 53 could never figure out why in the hell they always seemed to stick to the stereotype of crimes being committed at night. This entire place was rife with criminals, and whatever police there was were just as corrupt as the criminals. 53 grunted and then abruptly stopped and zoomed in on a more feminine figure, shrouded in a black jacket with her hood pulled up over her head. She was stopped by an older gaunt looking man, and the two shared a conversation. Suddenly the woman pulled a knife out, and put it to his throat and 53 laughed. He watched for a few moments, and she released the man, who turned and left. She glanced around, and readjusted her hood and 53 took the opportunity to zoom in on her face. A picture of Hannah Crawford appeared in his sight, and matched the face of the knife wielding woman to the photo. It was her.


53 slid off the roof of the building and landed on the ground with a soft thud. He straightened up and brushed his clothing down, and pulled his jacket around his weapons and set off after the woman. He thought to himself whether he should announce his presence and just go after her, or be more subtle and hunt her. He sighed as he watched her walk off in the opposite direction, and 53 followed.

 

[Aura]

As she distanced herself from Cade and his crude shelter, Wren gave a cursory glance over her shoulder to check to see if she had any men following her and deemed that she appeared safe before continuing. Her pace was fairly quick and while she kept her head up, she avoided eye contact with those people that she passed. It was less about feeling threatened by those who called Carbirmar a home, but more because she hated seeing the desperation in so many of the eyes that she passed. If she had to be completely honest... it was a little about her fear of the people who populated this rotting city. She would never admit that to anyone but herself though... she was confident in her ability to stay at Cade's place one more night but their most recent interaction still left her pale hands trembling.


She walked for several long minutes and when she was finally ready to admit her uneasiness about walking unescorted through the heart of Carbirmar was when she finally saw the apartment building that had been described to her by Cade. She didn't trust her temporary companion by any means... but there was no way to reliably measure who could be trusted and his information seemed as reliable as he could expect information to be. She didn't have a lot of experience in determining who was lying, but she had apparently done alright so far as she was still alive.


The funny thing about Carbirmar was that half of it was towering apartment complexes crammed to to the last centimeter with people while the other half consisted of crudely constructed lean-tos and expansive tent cities. Considering how closely people lived together it was continually surprising to Wren just how large this city still was. It was impossible to reconcile this knowledge with the memories of driving past the luxurious glittering mansions that belonged to the elite... Carbirmar had been described to her before but there was no level of detail that could have been used for her to truly comprehend what Carbirmar really was.


She shouldered her way into the apartment, slipping through the front doors behind someone who belonged. The stench was the first thing she noticed and an offensive mixture of scents assaulted her nose unpleasantly. The next thing she was aware of was the multitude of doors that tightly lined the apartment walls too close to each other for Wren to even picture what the living spaces looked like. Several bodies lay stretched out in the narrow hallway that she uneasily edged past. There was no way to tell whether or not these prone figures were dead, sleeping, or just experiencing a high more rewarding than she possibly could have imagined. Judging by the foul scent that still nagged at her nose, it didn't matter to anyone.


She sucked in as deep of a breath as she could manage with the scent and she sighed before she began to ascend the stairs that wound their way to the top of the fifty-floor decrepit structure. Luckily, she only had to climb to the twelfth floor to meet a man who had named himself End. It must have been one of those names that was chosen so that people would feel compelled to ask and so that he could respond with a snappy one-liner probably something along the lines about how messing him would mean the end for someone. Wren didn't particularly care about the bizarre name and she certainly wasn't planning to ask.


She had either grown accustomed to the scent or it had gotten better with each flight of stairs but drawing in another calming breath wasn't exactly disgusting like it had been previously... or she had other things that were more important to focus on... like selling some of the Agency's biggest secrets. She had heard End specialized in information and was usually fair when it came to paying for important information... but any payment would be a bonus. She just wanted to distribute the information and expose the Agency for what it really was. She couldn't believe that everything had gone as successfully as it had... she was just seconds away from talking to someone who would kill his right-hand man for this information. After this, she surely would be protected because she had been smart enough to bring only a sample today.


She hesitated for a minute before she knocked and immediately she felt something heavy slam into the side of her skull and her body involuntarily collapsed onto the floor.


"Your friend Cade sold you out," a man said with a foul grin stretched from ear to ear, "Told me that you have something valuable that you wanted to sell to me that you assured him would be worth my time. Promise me that it will be and we might just spin you around a couple of times and send you out for the streets to finish you off. Pick her up and tie her up," the same man barked to a large man who raced at her and slammed her head to the floor and scooped her up into a chair before she could scramble back up to her feet, "We'll teach her to waste our time if this information isn't valuable." A ragged sob caught in Wren's throat as she realized that she was probably going to die either way... if that was the case she hoped that End would at least use it to damage the Agency... though he probably would just sell it off to the highest bidder and nobody would know about the other hidden half and her life would end here in vain.

 

[Wiggle]

53 was fairly good at hiding in plain sight, and every time the girl looked over her shoulder, she looked directly at him, and then looked away. Of course Lone Wolves looked exactly like biological humans. For most of them, their skin was biological, but their limbs and bio-engineered muscles and bio-mechanical limbs was what made them different. They were human machines, cyborg that held no tell tale signs of what they were. 53 was no different than the average Lone Wolf, beside possessing the latest upgrades and often testing prototypes, but on the outside. he looked almost exactly like an average man nearing his thirties. Each time she would look at him, he would offer her a smile, but she seemed to look past him, or through him. In all honesty, 53 felt a bit stiffed, but he laughed to himself each time. For such a careful bird, she wasn't very observant, and he found himself wondering how she had survived such a long time against the other Lone Wolves. She had avoided so many of them, that the Agency finally got fed up and sent him, a ghost. The only Lone Wolf to not exist, or have any single record of being create, save for a single number, 53 in a list of Lone Wolves.


He tailed the woman for several blocks, always hiding in plain sight. 53 quickly zipped his jacket up, and thrust his hands in his pockets. He didn't want any pickpocket lifting his weapons off him, although he really didn't need them, they made work easier. 53 was able to rip an adult male apart with his bare hands if he wanted to, but 53 often found that to be distasteful and led people to question who did it and find the answers. A bullet, a knife strike, a snapped neck or something that an average human could do would be less likely to raise questions about who or what killed them. It was a bit chilly in Carbirmar, and the sky was a dark gray, threatening to storm soon. 53 grunted and padded off after his mark, expertly weaving through the crowd of people. Every once in a while a hand would snake out and grasp 53's jacket to get his attention to try and sell him something, but he would shrug it off and continue on his way following the girl.


Wren pushed her way into the front door of an apartment complex and 53 stopped for a moment, and then pushed his way inside. An unpleasant smell assaulted his olfactory sensors and his face twisted into a disgusted face. This place was a disgusting filthy cesspit and 53 wanted to remember to burn the entire slums down. It would cut back on Carbirmar's poor population and probably kill the crime rate. 53 spotted the girl heading down a long, narrow hallway, cautiously stepping over bodies on the ground. He made a motion to follow when a hand grasped his arm.


"Hey, I ain't never seen you in here, Mister." A voice said. "You livin' here now? We ain't got any room for more scumbags, and if you're living with someone in the apartment complex, you'd better tell me where. We ain't playing that shit, and your pal better pay for it."


53 watched as the girl disappeared from sight after pushing her way through a door. He cursed softly, and turned to face the man. He was a middle aged man, his dark brown hair now tinged with gray hairs. He had a beard that was of medium length and was tinged with the occasional gray hair here and there. He scowled at 53 and was standing behind a counter and was reaching over to grab him. Their eyes met, and that seemed to only enrage the man.


"I said where are you stay, shitstain." He growled. "You'd better answer before I brea-"


The man never finished his sentence before 53 reached into his jacket, pulled a suppressed pistol, aimed and pulled the trigger, catching the man in the eye. The bullet tore the man's eyeball into a gooey mess before traveling through his skull, destroying a part of his brain before exiting out of the back of his skull, carrying with it chunks of brain matter, eyeball, blood, and skull fragments, which, with the bullet, deposited itself on the wall behind him. The man, now missing an eye, stood there for a moment, his hand still half enclosed around 53's arm, before falling backwards in a heap behind the counter. 53 snorted and holstered his pistol back into his jacket, and turned to head towards the door his mark had entered only a few minutes before, carefully stepping over the unconscious bodies. He pushed the door open and began ascending the stairs, coming to a door that was haphazardly left open.


"Your friend Cade sold you out," a man said with a foul grin stretched from ear to ear, "Told me that you have something valuable that you wanted to sell to me that you assured him would be worth my time. Promise me that it will be and we might just spin you around a couple of times and send you out for the streets to finish you off. Pick her up and tie her up,"


53 stopped for a moment, just outside the door. He narrowed his eyes at the dirty wall opposite him for a moment, carefully listening in.


"We'll teach her to waste our time if this information isn't valuable."


53 let lose a soft growl at the men. If they had any idea what they had their hands on, they end up being extremely rich men. That woman held every secret the Agency had, from Project Alpha to their finances and black secret ops. He smiled and activated his cloaking system, and made an effort to remain as silent as he could, entering the dirty apartment. There were two men, the one who seemed to be calling the shots was a skinny drugged up looking one. He had no hair on his head, and his blue eyes were small and beady, like a rat's. He wore dirty clothes that were crusted with God only knew what, and he held a evil, disgusting smile on his face as he looked down at the woman, who was now tied to an old ratty chair. A second man stood behind her, a evil, intent smile on his face. They were going to do terrible things to this woman after they got finished milking the information from her. The Agency wanted her alive and unharmed so they could find out what all she knew and what all she had already sold, or at the very least, completely dead and unable to talk. The Agency took security breaches of all kinds very seriously and this little bird was not any different, and they expected the utmost from 53, as they always did. 53 ducked behind a wall inside of the apartment as his cloaking unit overheated. This new prototype unit made 53 completely invisible to the naked eye, only giving his position away because of a slight shimmer caused by the cloak itself, but was prone to overheating, and fast. 53 drew his pistol and waited, he was curious as to what she would say and what they would do.

 

[Aura]

Panic seemed to have replaced the blood in Wren's bones and she tried to take several calming breaths though her mind raced frantically as the second passed by and it became clear to her that she was screwed. She had been good at hiding and remaining elusive, but she should have tried to remain hidden. She needed to get her information out to the public about the Agency, but she could have been more cautious about doing so... she had been overeager and impatient and it had shown when she had practically stumbled into the trap. She could done things a thousand different ways and it might have given her a more favourable outcome if she had only taken the time to think through it all. She hadn't even come prepared with an open weapon... her knife was strapped firmly to her upper thigh as if she had expected that to be useful in a situation like this....


"I... I don't want to die," she mewled pathetically and a few crocodile tears slid down her cheek, "I have more information that you could use... I taped it to my thigh to keep it safe." she said. A blatant lie but the tears and the pathetic tone should be sufficient to mask her lie. The balding man with beady eyes reminiscent of a rodent's grinned and he nodded at his associate who seemed pleased at the idea of reaching down her clothes to find this source of information. He would never make it that far if it was up to her.


The bulky second man moved around in front of her and immediately placed his hands on her body. His face was close to hers and his foul breath filled her nostrils and she tried not to gag. She hadn't intended to let him to place his filthy greedy hands down her clothing but he moved quickly and he was groping her before she knew it... which was okay with her because it proved to be exactly what she needed him to do at this moment. His head tilted just slightly as he greedily went about his obscene task and his hands clasped around the knife strapped to her leg when she leaned forward as far as the binds on her arm would allow her to and she clamped her jaws down together as hard as she could on the man's exposed ear.


She could feel the hot blood enter her mouth but she pressed her jaws harder against the man's ear and the sound of his screams filled his ears. Her heart stopped as she heard a gunshot and she felt a hot damp patch along her abdomen and the man's weight grew heavy against her. She couldn't see much besides the body obscuring her sight but her whirling mind gave her the next step of her escape. The hot wet t-shirt clinging to her skin was concerning, but she had to ignore it for now. She could worry about this later, if she could pull off her escape.


They hadn't bound her legs, which was a fortunate oversight probably caused by her less than intimidating impression so she kicked at the leg of her chair furiously. The first kick was met with little success and the shock of kicking the chair left pain spiking up her leg, but on the second kick she heard a small cracking noise, which was likely helped by the weight still lying on top of her. She held her breath and tried to push her weight as far back onto the chair as she could manage which was helped by the way the man's body was slumped on top of her. Another final kick and she heard the sound of a second gun shot soared over her as the chair's leg cracked off and the balance was compromised enough that the chair lurched to the side and she fell.


End's henchman rolled off of her uselessly, and pain lanced up her bound arms and down her side which took her breath away. By now, fear was her only motivator and it proved to be a powerful one. She gritted her teeth ignoring the coppery taste of blood still lingering in her mouth (which she would later recognize to be coming from her tongue as she had bitten into it during her fall) and Wren ignored the pain as she used her new position to her advantage to kick the chair away from her and pull her hands over the top of the chair. The man had finished reloading and he fired another shot at her as she lunged forward away from the chair finally freeing herself though her hands were bound behind her back.


Wren shrieked as the bullet found a place in her right shoulder and the pain eclipsed every ache that she had obtained so far in this futile attempt at escape or... ever, really. The pain seemingly shot through every nerve-ending in her body and her scream sounded distant to her ears. Somehow she heard the knife that she had strapped to her thigh clatter to the ground, freed by the dead man. Her legs shook and she didn't know how she found the strength to stay upright given the violently pulsating pain throbbing in her shoulder blade but she still rushed forward at the man. He was reloading and her drive to survive was overpowering the pain... if she let him shoot then that was it for her.


She rushed towards him and he reached forward and struck out at her with his fist, but she jumped back away from him. Her legs trembled and they gave out from underneath her sending her sprawling uselessly to the ground once again. Her recovery time was fairly quick and before End could do anything she kicked straight out and connected with one of his particularly precious body parts. He yelled in pain and the gun clattered to the ground nearby as he staggered backwards reeling from the injury and swearing profusely. Given the pain in her shoulder and the awkward fact that her arms were bound together it was difficult for her, but she wriggled her way towards the gun before he could recover from the injury and she had managed to awkwardly bring herself back up to her feet.


Wren jumped away from him as he advanced towards her and her fingers desperately played on and maneuvured the gun around until it faced towards him when she stood sideways. She teased the trigger as he raced towards her and his body fell to the floor. It was barely a hit, but it had struck his knee and he had gone down sharply. The sob that she had choked down at the beginning finally escaped her throat in the form of a ragged gurgle and she stepped back towards the knife that had dropped.


She kicked the knife away from him and once she was the furthest corner from her attacker she lowered herself to the floor gingerly and dropped the gun as she neared the ground. She fought to grab the knife with her hands so awkwardly tied as she had fought to grab the gun and she felt satisfaction as the knife made contact with the ropes.


It took several terse seconds to sever the ropes and she laughed as her arms broke free... her laughter grew louder and more manic as she reached back for the gun and planted a second bullet in End who had been struggling to crawl towards her in the last few seconds. Tears streamed down her face as she laughed... she had been certain so many times that she was going to be dead and it was a miracle that she wasn't. Maybe she could still get this information out to the people that needed to see it... but she was planning to be a lot more cautious and a LOT smarter about it... she could probably barricade this door and stay in the apartment for a while. It's not like anyone in the complex would notice the smell of dead bodies in amongst the stench. She was safe.