[A/N]: Hey, so this is the revamped version of Twisted Arms and Broken Glass. I decided to start a new account due to the many bad experiences and terrible stories linked to my old account. Why did I specifically choose to redo this story? Well, I'm actually pretty fond of it, but it was really bad and I felt it needed far more than just a few written chapters. Expect to the story to turn out much differently than its original. This first chapter is essentially the same with a few changes here and there.
He knew the mission would be a failure, no matter how optimistic the two of them had seemed at first. They were set for failure from the very beginning, when they both agreed to be vampires, perhaps even before then. That's how the Major had planned it, after all. Luke was naïve throughout tthe whole thing, truly believing his artificial abilities could defeat that of the No Life King. But he knew. Jan knew from the very beginning how it would end for the two of them. It was common sense. No matter how many times he would play it out in his head, no matter how many different scenarios he would create, they all had the same outcome. So why not go out with a bang?
He sat slumped over on the ground, blessed bullets burning deep into his flesh (though none of them fatal enough to end his life) and a mixture of blood and sweat drenching his body. He clutched at the remains of his right arm as blood seeped through his glove. His adrenaline high was beginning to wear off and he could feel a burning agony settling across his body. In spite of the blood and sweat and pain, he somehow managed to keep the same toothy, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He wouldn't let them see how scared he was, not some punk-ass newbie, not the fucking butler, and especially not that aristocratic bitch and her cronies.
"Answer," she shouted, bringing him back down to Earth after having been shot with another bullet. Anyone could see the fire blazing in her eyes, how her finger twitched atop the trigger, and just how furious and enraged she must've felt. And all he could do… was laugh in the face of Death. It was about all he could do.
"Aw c'mon bitch, you know~ The ones who put the fuckin' chip in me." He stood with a grunt, leaning against the wall and his legs quivering slightly under his weight. "The chip that's sending them information letting them know we fucked up. They can hear us talking. Every last Goddamned word," he coughed, "If they know I'm standin here all fucked up and dyin' about to tell you everything, you think they're gonna fuckin' let me live?"
He stood waiting for the blazing glory in which his life would end, never breaking eye contact with the Iron Bitch. There was a fainting clicking in ear and a sharp pain in the side of his head, as though the chip was grinding against itself… and then it silenced. He stood there, his blood-soaked hand still held out in front of him as he awaited his fate, the tension and anticipation in the air thick enough to cut through. But… nothing happened.
His grin faltered, his eyes widening and jaw tensing. His outstretched hand shook slightly. He… wasn't supposed to- This- this wasn't part of the Major's plan. That he was sure of. He was supposed to die. He knew he was! But there he was, feeling as though his heart was about to beat out of his chest as he stood in front of the Round Table Conference.
Jan searched the room, for any signs of a small boy or... well.. anything. Nothing. No one. Not even a sign or a message of abandonment. It felt as though he'd been abandoned and forgotten… and everyone else in the room knew it. His arm fell to his side as he slid down the wall and onto the ground. What had once been a look of cockiness had been replaced with bewilderment. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see everyone else's expressions shifting from anticipation to hardened glares.
His gaze shifted back to the Iron Bitch as he muttered, "…Oh fuck me," before his vision finally faded to black.
[A/N]: And there it is. I hope this is somewhat better than the original chapter.
