James Bland, agent of MI6, unknowing experiment of Madskull, a man that had been betrayed by an assassin that loved him, sat drinking tea, a loaded gun on the table next to him.

"Mom, I need you to get away for a while." He said after taking a sip of his warm chamomile.

"Why?" His mother asked, sipping her own cup of tea.

"It's the same reason I stayed up all night, a gun in my hand. Madskull's going to hunt me down to the ends of the Earth. My only chance is to warn MI6, and we both know damn well that they're going to try to kill me before that happens. I don't want you dying because of me."

"I can take care of myself. I can shoot; I won that trophy a few years back in the competition where they were shooting those plates."

"Mom, get out. Please, you have to trust me."

She sighed and put down her cup, putting her head in her hand.

"As far as you say it's just your murderous ex and a bunch of groupies."

"It's not. It's far worse than any of us could imagine. I saw a man slay another with dual machetes. Only by tricking him did I escape with my life. I need you to leave. Chances are they've traced the line here."

"Through that phone call?"

"Probably. If they can create a robotic spider that can talk, I'm sure they know how to trace a call."

"How long do you think they'll be hunting you?"

"Until I'm pronounced deceased."

"Then that's what we need to do."

"Excuse me?"

"For them to stop hunting, you need to die. We're going to fake your death."

"How're you coming up with this stuff?"

"Did I ever tell you how I met your father?"

"No, not really."

"We met at work, at MI6. I've got combat training. As I said, I can take care of myself."

"I guess so." He said, setting down his cup and putting his face in his hands. "Mom, what's going on? My life's turned topsy-turvy in a week or so. You, a secret agent. The only woman who I've ever had any feelings for is going to kill me. I'm getting tired of sleeping next to a loaded gun."

"It's the life of an agent. You wake up, brush your teeth, shower, eat breakfast and by the end of the day you've assassinated some Specter groupie and cracked a data vault protected by crocodiles. Then you go to sleep at night clutching your service pistol and half-hoping you wake up in the morning."

"What's the other half hoping for?" James asked.

"That you don't wake up. That in the morning you won't have to live the paranoid life where you have to look over your shoulder, where you don't worry about whether the guy running the hot dog stand is going to pull a gun on you."

"I know the feeling."

"There have been tons of agents that have died from stress. Insomnia, paranoia, almost encroaching on insanity. That is what an agent turns in to. We may be doing good, but is your own mind worth it?" His mother asked.

"As long as Madskull is around no one is going to rest easy." James replied.

"It's not just Madskull; it's tons of mysterious factions, shadow groups, cartels. Where does it end?" She asked.

"It doesn't. The way I see it, it's our job to make sure no one gets hurt from these endless opponents." He said.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Two cars drove up to the house. James turned toward the window to see two long, black cars outside.

"I don't like this." James said. He put the gun next to him in his coat. It was only when he saw the people that stepped out of the cars were carrying assault rifles and wearing body armor did he know for sure. It was Madskull.

"Mom, they're here."

"We can hide upstairs." She said, taking her own gun and heading toward the wooden stairs.

The armored soldiers advanced up the driveway toward the door. By the time they kicked it down the two agents had disappeared up the stairs.

The agents of Madskull silently stalked the corridors, looking for their target. One Isaac Luther headed up the stairs.

He wielded two long blades in each hand, stained from the blood of previous victims of his horrific practice. Under his dark hood he smiled. He smiled, for soon he knew he was going to confront the only agent that he had failed to kill, the only blemish on his record with Madskull.

Isaac Luther had been an agent once, he was extremely skilled with bladed weapons from throwing knives to swords.

One day, he had been taken by force in to one of Madskull's cars. Despite being a man of great skill, he was not a man that was moral.

"I'll give you an offer and one minute to accept. If you do not, we will kill you and your family." A Madskull agent had said to him.

Here he was now, hunting for a man that hadn't done anything wrong, anything to hurt him. That made no difference to Isaac Luther.

"Come out, come out." He said.

No response. He chose a room to search, the master bedroom.

"You know, I studied forms of spiritual arts. They teach you that if you strip away the flesh..."

Nothing in the master bedroom.

"...your spirit makes itself evident."

He chose the bathroom to search next, nothing. Only one room and a linen closet left.

"Do you want to know how your father died, Mister Bland? Why one day he didn't come home?"

Closet was empty. One room left.

"I helped his spirit become evident, to seep through the cracks. Mister Bland, be happy they didn't let you see the body. That's why there wasn't a wake or anything."

He opened the door to the last room, a bedroom. James' old room.

"Now it's your turn. Where could you be, Mister Bland?"

He checked the closet in the room. Empty. Only one place left to look, under the bed.

Luther shook his head. "I know where you are now."

James Bland put his finger on the trigger.

Luther walked to the bed. He crouched.

Bland knew he was going to have to take a life. It wasn't his first time. He knew what he had to do.

One bullet, one life taken.

Luther was now lying prone, looking under the bed. All he saw was a pair of feet standing on the other side.

"Mister Luther, I won't be so merciful this time." James said.

Isaac rose up, brandishing his dual machetes in his gloved hands.

"Neither will I."

They both moved at the same time. Luther threw his machete across the room, crashing through the sole window as Bland threw himself to the side.

It was now James' turn. He got up and started firing. Luther blocked the bullets with his one and only machete near effortlessly.

"Traitor." Luther said.

"To what? Madskull? Drake already tried to sell me that line."

"You betrayed us all. Everyone's a traitor, to the one true power. That power is Madskull."

They fought in a dance of death. Machete sliced the air, gunshots rang out like screams. James could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, the orders of whoever was commanding the team being spoken in rapid fire succession.

Bland was quickly outnumbered by the soldiers and hid behind any cover he could reach, whether it was the bed, dresser or even the chair or mahogany desk.

James could hear sirens in the distance, but he knew that he'd be long dead before the police got there.

He cast a quick glance out the now shattered window, and that's when the knife pierced his chest.

A machete stuck out of his chest, a good two feet in front of him. Red filled his vision and he sunk to his knees and coughed. What came out of his mouth only partially surprised him: Blood. He dropped the gun to the floor.

He could hear voices speaking all around him. But two sentences grabbed his attention, taking his mind off the fact that he was dying.

"Patient 14 has been contained."

"Drake should come up, she specifically requested to see him."

Kelly? Her? His thoughts were disconnected and jumbled.

He saw her enter the room, dressed in a business suit, heels and sunglasses which completely hid her eyes. On her coat was a silver colored pin in the shape of a skull.

"Kelly... You betrayed me..." He said in a raspy voice.

She crouched right in front of him, a slight smile on her face.

"No, you betrayed us."

"I... never worked for you."

"You worked for one of our people."

"Connor?"

"Yes, exactly. The pieces are fitting together nicely now, aren't they Mister Bland?"

"Why'd you kill him?"

"He'd failed the Circle. The attacks on the MI6 bases were to eliminate key rogue members we thought would tell everyone about us. Connor was a Madskull agent that had a bit of information regarding operations. He was about to tell you about it, but we don't just put audio recorders in the offices. We have full, real time view and audio. Every mission you performed under him was one of our jobs. Heck, we even experimented on you the one time you were shot during a mission. You were in the hospital for a little bit, I'd say a year or so. After we killed your director we realized that you also had heard of Madskull, so I sent Mister Luther to take care of you. I'm not a fighter; I make people trust me than crush them under my boot. Thanks to Needle's slip-up you know who I am. I assure you, she's been taken care of appropriately."

"You people are sick." He said, coughing up blood.

"James, I really did love you. We could have been wonderful together."