Primes ch

Prime's chair creaked as before him was somebody he knew. He could not put his finger on it, whether it was a hallucination or not. Using some of his few remaining strengths, he stood up to face this hidden figure.

Her long hair and piercing snake eyes hit him deeply, but who was she? Was she someone she knew? Memories flooded in about a bloodbath entering Caldera. With the deaths of so many, he saw the looks of despair and the silence of others. It was their masks that irked him. He smiled. Yet the woman looked at him indifferently at first. But as his expression changed, so did hers. With fear washing over her. So she had to disappear. So quickly as she appeared, she had to leave him. Entering the room in her place was Commander Ideo, his robotic voice beeping as he entered.

"I guess today’s battle here is close to over," he asked Prime, his underling.

Prime did not respond; for a few seconds, his mind was elsewhere. Ideo tapped his shoulder, and he came back to the world.

"Sorry, but not yet.” He ruffled his face. “Pohl has now learned about my betrayal. I expect that for now, he will take his shoulders to Madam Bourget’s district, but we will be next, and we need all the manpower to protect ourselves.”

"What about the people inside Madam Bourget’s district?” He asked.

"Oh, to be honest, they are dead already.” Prime reluctantly said.

Ideo looked in surprise.

"What about Hayey, Boo, and Bam? They are only children, and they will most definitely feel his wrath.”

"That is for them to face,” Prime said coldly, shuffling while holding back to try and slow down his bleeding. His vision started to become black little by little due to weak stitching.

Idea tried to argue, but he could not even hear him at all. His mind was in a different state, and when he saw the woman one more time, he reached for her, and finally, she brought herself to find the love to hug him. Love.

He became silent and fell into unconsciousness.

–

Hailey sat tired. For her first ever fight and for her first ever kill, she did not know how to feel. She felt not indifferent but bliss. Like a wave of gratitude washing over her. For now, the troops had stopped on the 6th floor of the tower. They started with 80 troops and four squads. They were now left with only 30 troops, and one whole squad had been decimated.

She looked at Boo and Bam, who saw the entire dead Delta squad who came up the staircase. Boo and Bam’s squad was mostly depleted, while Hailey’s luckily most came out unscathed. They all sat on the second floor of the lounge. Close to a locked glass door. Laser guns pointed, while a few sent their drones to try and find any enemies. Even drones outside could not find the hidden enemies due to their cloaking technology.

"We finally broke through the cloaks. In the rooms right next to one of those doors, they are peeking out there. I'm just ready to pre-fire a few shots. One grenade and we are alright.” Boo sighed, standing next to Hailey.

Hailey used her teeth to rip off the bandages she was wrapping around her bicep.

"All good, we take them down. We are just a few steps closer to Madam Bourget.”

"We eventually have to meet her, and I just can't comprehend how strong she is based on reports.” Boo said anxiously.

Hailey side-eyed him in disgust, but he did not notice.

"Be stronger; we’ll take her down. She is only a combat expert; there is no way we can lose to her. If we do, that is an embarrassment, and giving up cannot be even a tough thing we should have.” She said she was ripping off the final piece of her bandage.

Boo stepped to the side, away from her, for a second. The smoke emitting from her teeth was hot and heavy. She wrapped her boots, straining as her leg felt blubbered and stiff. Bam was more focused on preparing his explosives. Tweaking his custom-made explosions. With a few pieces of foil, gasoline, alcohol, and matches, he could make a custom bomb. With all the supplies around him, he made around five of them.

Hailey finished her last bandage. The last wrap ripped around her foot. She limped up and jumped, twisting her ankle to release its stiffness. She notices the weakness of her group. Their emotions, Joshua, would not show emotion; their manners were too dirty; the way they shot was berserker style. She understood the only way they were winning was because of great planning and strength in numbers. Everyone signed up for the war. Even tougher, half of them would die by the end.

She looked at the comrades in the most dangerous situation right now. She wondered about Mal and the man on the ground. Fighting against more troops. Her mission was more important. They were nothing.

Picking her up, she knew what she had to do. She kept thinking that everyone was useless; she was the only available option. She was the hero of The Reptiles; they were going to be the villains. Everyone against her would fall. Grabbing one of the men from his collar, she picked him up and looked deeply into him.

"Will you kill?” She asked, and the man nodded yes, but he lied. He was not a killer. In another one, she asked the same question, “Will you kill?" The same response. Boo and Bam looked in confusion as their groups saw Hailey become a sort of demon-like figure in front of her men. Then she finally stopped.

"Boo."She said, “If we lose, you’re taking the blame.” She pointed at him.

How could they win if she was surrounded by weakness? There was nothing that even made it look like this group was competent, so why were they chosen to become the heroes Caldera needs? The one to take down a certain important and influential point. She was deserving of a new group—a better group. The greatest group. Was this a sign of disrespect?

Her face started to turn red. She was angry. She was disrespected. Not Prime, not Joshua, not anyone. They were feared, and she wanted to be feared too. So how could she make herself fearful?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Boo looked around in confusion before Hailey stomped up towards the glass door and crashed inside with her rifle on her arm. Sliding down the hallway, she pointed her rifle to the right, seeing the barricaded door. Flipping the switch, she powered up the weapon slowly. The room inside started to clatter as they rushed to escape. Finally, after a few seconds of charging her weapon, she fired. Sending the room into dust.

The noise became silent, and nobody dared to hear even more. She popped up and continued forward. Everyone used it as motivation to walk through the glass door. A few more gunshots echoed as Hailey fired more rounds into windows, changing gears again. Heating herself, she was getting ready. Willing to fight anybody in her vicinity.

Soldiers unlocked themselves across the corner. Peeking for an easy shot. Her pistol drew and fired two in their heads, but another dropped from above. Boo picked up his gun, and the two both fired. With both bullets hitting two parts, he fell to his death on the floor.

"That was my kill.” She grunted.

Another one appeared, and without even looking, she fired a shot behind her and killed him.

"You can't be close to me.”

"Calm down; don't be so impulsive.”

"I am the only one doing sh*t. So don't hold me back!” Hailey screamed.

Boo and Bam did not want to go after her, as she cleared an entire room herself. They wondered what had gotten her so worked up. She finally turned back and scoffed at everyone watching behind her.

"At this point, I'm a one-man army, you cowards. Get ready, we're going up the stairs right now, and I better see you all come with me.” She said it in an aggressive tone. No matter what, she was going to be the hero, like Joshua.

–

Madam Bourget went down the stairs step by step. Her eyes were focusing on every inanimate object and everything that could be deemed dangerous. She cleared her first floor; there was nobody there. Still, she hesitated at every turn of the corner. At every twist in the hallway. Wherever she could expect danger, looming anxiety crept over her. That is how she always survived.

Her nerves started to spiral as she stepped down a narrow hallway that was short in length. Looking down, she notices a foot sticking out. Maybe the big thumb only. With her arm turned into a sword, she used her other hand for a pistol. I aimed tightly and fired. The man screamed as he popped out of his hiding place, but she ran and slashed his chest. Falling on his knees, he gripped his chest, looking back at her. Her dead eye and the other covered. She looked like a monster.

His death signaled an attack. Two more kicked into a window while three others held their guns pointed at her.

"YOU MUST SURRENDER NOW.” One of the women hesitantly said.

Madam Bourget chuckled, leaping forward. She kicked her down with her legs, leaving her to fall on her buttocks.

Turning to her right, she slashed the arm of the man and pierced through the door with her sword. The other one next to him pulled his rifle out, but Madam Bourget turned herself, and the body became a meat shield for him to fire into. The sword became closer and closer as he spammed his weapon into her. It was no use, as he was also stabbed by the sword. Bullets struck her back, but protective plates bounced the bullets off.

Then another shot was fired, and with her sword, she sliced the laser in half. Too deep into shock, the group could not accept their fate as green blood splattered around the walls. With a deathly mark left on them.

With her handkerchief, she wiped the blood off her sword and her face, seeing the reflection of her eyes bounce off the sword, and indifference fell over her. What did her father mean when he talked to her? Even now, his words echo in her mind, but all she could do was battle. From the very beginning, becoming a warrior and an oppressive figure was the most important to her. So how could she reverse back to a person she did not even know? Someone who was not even herself.

She continued to the next floor. Still descending the stairs slowly. She was met with a singular enemy. With a sword in their hand. With no words exchanged, the two fought. Their swords clashed on the stairwells. Clashing as sparks flew in the air. This reptile did backflips and was extremely flexible. She was hiding under a black tarp covering her mouth. Her sword was long and sleek, identical to Madam Bourgets.

"You are strong; what is your name?" Madam Bourget smiled.

The woman did not respond, but she continued to fight. Clashing left and right. Madam Bourget was not aggravated but happy, smiling while ducking under the blade.

The black tarp flew from the sharp winds leaving from the attacks. Cutting each other, the winds flew rapidly like a hurricane. Cuts appeared on the walls, with the blade flying up. Bourget used this opportunity to bring her sword back for the finishing move. An elbow flew and hit her face, and the woman grabbed the sword mid-air and sent it down, flying full speed toward her chest.

Picking her arm-sword up, the blade bounced. The woman looked in shock as Madam Bourget finally looked agitated. Then, in a second, she flew up in the air and slashed her stomach. Coughing out green blood, she finally stopped coughing. She went on her knees and looked back. Before her head was cut off, Madam Bourget continued down.

Was she a warrior or just a scared little girl? She walked down the entire floor of steps, ignoring the entire floor. Even if she sensed a few, there was no need to kill them. Why?

Was she hesitating, showing empathy to the people who made her lose her eye? Slightly touching her eye patch, he finally finished the steps to the next floor. Grabbing the metal handle, the door opened to reveal reptiles setting up an explosive.

It went slowly. Her slashes cut them quickly, and in a torturous way, they pleaded to be spared. She forced herself—no, she told herself—she needed to kill them this way. To inspire fear was what she needed to do. What was the point of her existence if she could not even do such a simple thing?

They screamed, but it could not help their situation. Wherever they entered, From the broken window, from the cracked door, or the floor below, she was there to meet them. Swiftly, she cracked their skulls, broke their backs, cut their legs, arms, heads—anything that could be attacked, she attacked. Out of all their bones, none were left untouched. Left to breathe but paralyzed everywhere else. She opened the door at the end of the room. A surprise pipe came flying down to strike. With a slash, the hand was cut in half, and another battle commenced.

But nobody appeared before her. That girl was only the last. Nobody broke through the window. Only explosions and saucers floating from outside were the only things to fill her ears. So what was she going to do? She sat down with her back to the wall. She could continue to go downstairs, but most of her office workers were captured or even killed. It was an extreme surprise attack, so how was she going to be a hero?

Right on cue, someone screamed, and Madam Bourget stumbled on her feet and rushed to the noise. Jumping from the railings and leaping down. She caught herself right at the stairwell below. A front flip forward, she pounded her shoulder, exploding through the door, and in front of her were a hostage and a man holding a pistol to her head.

"SHE WILL DIE IF YOU MOVE A SINGLE INCH, SO GET ON YOUR KNEES!” The man commanded, but Madam Bourget did not need to listen because he was weak, so she threw a dagger anyway. That woman was an easy save, but her surprise and heart dropped when a gunshot fired, and Bourget looked in desperation as the two of them fell to their deaths.

She thought she made the right decision and that she was quick and strong enough. She remembered that woman; she brought her papers around a few years ago. She was a good woman, with a child on the way. That kid could have been five years old.

So she did cry. She cried tears of sadness, and for a second, all the noises went away. The woman’s lifeless eyes called to her, yet she could not apologize. She was gone because of her. Commander C was gone because of her. Everybody died because of her. Her father died because of her. While others were living lives of strength with no hard work, she worked desperately. She begged for love and forced herself on others, all to show that she was powerful. So now, when she sat in weakness and sorrow, what else could she say? If she kills people, what would she tell The Light about her life? Murdering for fun, maybe, or for a mission. Who was she to decide?