Title: Rise From The Ashes
Author: HallowedHallsOfWriting
Chapter Rating: M
Summary: Two best friends, yet polar opposites, are kidnapped for the sake of Itex's newest depraved experiment. Watch as their world is turned upside down as they struggle to cope in their own personal custom-made hell.
Warnings: Background character death.
Disclaimer: I don't own MR!

CHAPTER 1: SAGITTARIUS – THE HUNTER

Thud!

The sound echoed through the large, mainly empty room. A rather young woman picked the cause of the noise up, thumbing the thick spine. She flipped through the file the older man had all but slammed down on the desk. One eyebrow arched elegantly as she scanned through the pages, never lingering too long, but not overlooking anything either. The man twitched as he waited for her assessment on the project he created. Oh, he hated the women with a passion. His hatred of her was only rivaled by the way he felt about her being his superior. And it didn't help that she was actually smart; one of the few high-ranking scientists in Itex that didn't reach her position by sleeping with her boss. He would have really preferred to have Dr. Whalen, the woman who truly defined the stereotype of a dumb blonde, look over his proposal. She wasn't smart; the only reason she was even in this corporation was the fact that Jansen was her aunt and she had his division's president's ear – among other things – in her slutty little hand. Still, she would have been a hell of a lot easier to convince her. But no, he got stuck with one of the smartest and ruthless scientists, and to add insult to injury, he wasn't able to bribe or, ah, convince her like he had with his previous bosses. Yes, he really hated his boss.

His thoughts were interrupted when said woman looked up from the file he had constructed so precariously. "Tell me why I should fund this expedition of yours?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in skepticism. He analyzed the words briefly, listening for any of that hidden poison on dagger sharp tone that promised a swift death to anyone who gave her an inadequate answer. When she used that tone, it meant she was displeased and unimpressed, and that everyone around her should watch their backs. He subtly relaxed his tense posture, detecting no malice in her voice, simply curiosity.

He cleared his throat a bit. She looked back at him, eyes flickering impatiently. "The Director has been having quite a hard time capturing and containing the escaped experiments, Subjects AH-001, 002, 003, 005, 009, and 011. The papers in those files contain a formula to create the perfect hunter for them, one they will have no chance standing up to. To gain full results, though, the specimen selected for this procedure must be physically and mentally fit, as well as receptive to the Mindcontrol toxin that Itex has recently created. There are still minor flaws in the design, but that's all they are, minor. Unless the experiments discover them, which is highly unlikely, then they will not be affected by them at all."

The woman nodded approvingly, and the man's tension unwound even further. She had agreed! She approved! It would be the pinnacle of his scientific career, he thought gleefully. He would rank her now! He would be famous in this building! It would be him the president turned over the company to, he would be the one who would climb the ranks, and he would be the one who eventually ascend to invulnerable godhood that came with being the director of Itex. Lost in his jubilant and ambitious thoughts, he didn't notice the muted ping of a gun safety being clicked off. He was already envisioning himself at the head of the staff table, eating caviar and drinking fine wine. The woman spoke again.

"This is an incredible piece of work you've turned in, doctor. You've really outdone yourself. However, it might have been a bit to much," she said. His face lost its dreamy expression and turned into one of blatant shock that she was criticizing him. She laughed slightly at the look on his face. "Oh, no, don't get me wrong. It's perfect. Too perfect though, for an underling like you to submit as your own. It's so convenient that you haven't put your name down yet Lowen. You've truly saved me so much time." She grabbed one of her thin felt-point pens and jotted down the name Delaney M. Whitakker beneath the title on the portfolio cover. He looked at her uncomprehendingly. Was she trying to take credit for his work? As if she could read the look on his face, she grinned rather sadistically. "I'm not trying to, ah, steal your thunder, I am."

Quick as lightning, she whipped out the slim handgun she hid beneath her robes and aimed it directly at his forehead, right between his eyes. Said body parts widened to a size that would have been comical had the circumstances been any pleasanter. "You know, it's a shame I have to do this. You were one of my best subordinates. But sadly, you're too dangerous of competition for me to have. You've outlived your usefulness. Good bye Lowen." He could only wait as the bullet entered his skull. Time slowed down and everything seemed sluggish. Then came a second of agonizing pain, like burns from a fire of a thousand degrees multiplied by the hundreds. And then as he opened his mouth to scream from the pain, the blessed, welcomed black came as he fell into Death's embrace, his abyss of unfeeling.

Delaney stood there, watching the body as, in practically slow motion, crumpled to the floor, glassy lifeless eyes staring up at her from the corpse of the man she had shot, the smoking barrel of the gun proof of that. It was how she had managed to get so far up; eliminating competition. Delaney Marie Whitakker was at the top of the food chain here, and she would do anything to stay there. Anything. Stealing, cheating, plagiarism, blackmail, threats, even murder. Someday everything she had done would catch up to her. But until that time, she was invincible, invulnerable. She turned sharply on one sharp heel, and strode purposely out of the room, file clutched under her arm, phone flipped open and pressed to her ear.

"Yes?" she said, glossy round lips forming the syllables, the slight southern twang in her voice a bit more resounding than normal. "There has been an… accident in room 132. Send a cleaner down there right away." She snapped the phone shut with a sharp click, tucking it back in her pocket. Walking through the door, she flicked the light switch off. Bright lights met her eyes as she walked down the hall to her boss's room.

That room filled with pitch black darkness cloaked one of Itex's best kept secret. The body of Jonathan Lowen, creator of the SAGITTARIUS project.

So? How was it? This is one of the fairly less dark chapters. It gets worse; much, much worse.

Still interested? Next chapter should come out soon. Reviews are loved and appreciated.

~Hallow