A/N: Hey. New at this, NO HATE. Unless you're a potato. (I cannot believe I just said that) First installation of originally, three. Rated T for language and, uh, some hints of incest. please no hate :'((. This story contains language that is not English, and if it is wrong, I blame Google Translate and my friend for persuading me to use other dialects. Let me know what you think of the characters! Gimme more ideas about what I should edit 'bout them.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own it. Just my plot and some of my characters.
Amy here is OOC. I need to do that. PM me if you have questions. BETA FOR HIRE :)
ONTO THE SHOW!
Iridescent: Trading Yesterday
by: relativelystupid (Stew)
"Long night tonight?"
"Yeah. Little sister's being a pain in the ass."
"Oh. Well, that explains the large thermos of coffee,"
"'SIS! I don't have the right shoes for THIS ONE DIRECTION CONCERT! YOU NEED TO TAKE ME SHOPPING, RIGHT NOW!'"
"That's hot."
"General bitching, as I call it."
The light tap-tapping of feet of the only two people left in the fourth floor was like thunder in the still corridor, eyes glazed with lack of sleep, and they exchanged glances, one lighting a cigarette as they turned a corner. The other dug her hand inside her lab coat, one holding the rather big case for her coffee. "Is he stable?" the woman intoned, looking behind her warily, and her partner shrugged, lifting his eyes towards the ceiling, humming a soft 'yes'. The other nodded and looked back in front of her again, sniffling as the temperature dropped, causing them both to tense up, but they were used to this. Once they reached a steel door, the man sighed, pulling out his ID card and swiping it beside the scanner, before leaning in to let the machine scan his eye. The woman did this too, one blue eye unclear and hazed as she looked right back at the sharp, red light, barely blinking.
"Welcome, Dr. Plaines and Dr. Reid, all programs up and ready."
Dr. Reid, the woman, looked back at her partner, leaving the thermos on the capsule just below the scanner, watching it shoot down, away for safekeeping. "Hey, VISAR. Nice to hear from you again. Is subject sedated?" The female scientist smiled, slipping on her glasses and taking the clipboard right behind the door, Dr. Plaines right behind her, whistling happily."VI, open up hatch 12 for me, will you?" the man said, sliding past Louise clumsily, managing to knock over a vial containing chlorine triflouride, and Louise danced away, hissing as the vial hit the ground with a crash, and she glared at her partner, her mouth pulled into a terrifying scowl. "Clean that up, or else this place will be set on fire. I'm going to go check on TS-44325," she bit out, pointing at the pool of liquid fire angrily, and stomping off, missing the sharp smile her partner sent her.
"Don't let Jordan into hatch 12."
"Yes, Dr. Reid."
The AI said in her sharp, clipped British monotone, sure, Jordan was recruited by CRITICAL two months before her, but she was still in a much higher position than him. She pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and looked up, biting her lip as she reached out to lower the hydrogen level inside the red room, also keeping an eye on her test subject's vitals. "He awake, VISAR?" says Louise, picking up the clipboard she put down and scribbling the remaining chemicals inside of the lab, tallying everything she'd need for her serum. As far as she knows, this project is still a flight risk, but she needs to finish this. "Yes, Doctor." And Louise hummed almost happily, slipping inside the slightly cold room, blue eyes now focused and alert.
A man sat on a steel table inside an enclosed glass box, muscles bulging and eyes wide, hands tugging on his almost non-existent hair, sobbing incoherently, rubbing his knees together to attain some warmth, and possibly, some sanity. "Recording starts in 3..2..1." a camera lifted from the far end of the room, red light indicating the start of her latest log.
"Day 233 of Project: CONCUPISENCE, and no progress has been seen, as of lately.. VISAR, inject serum ROVINA, and let's see how it goes on from there, in the past weeks, the test subject had not been showing signs of being subject to the bleeding effect, which may or may not be progress to us," the red-haired woman side-stepped over to the control panel and kept her eyes on her latest subject, barely blinking as the man's red eyes shot open wider as a small, circle shaped injection neared his neck, scrambling away from it, screaming bloody murder. Louise rolled her eyes at this, sitting down on a swivel chair and swinging it around, pressing a button on the control panel behind her, and leaning close to speak in a microphone, pressing one finger to her ear as the man let out the most blood curdling scream. "44325, stop wriggling around, or this will take longer." She snarled out the last three words, sending the man inside the containment glass shivering into silence, sobs turning into choked tears, lifting his chin up, letting the pusher press into the pale, bruised skin of his neck. It was painless, though the man could not bear to think what was bound to come next. But it was his second week here, and by now, he should be used to this. She seemed used to this. The red-haired woman that always smiled and whistled or hummed when she came in, her blue eyes filled with determination and- and.. he was so fucking sick AND tired of it. But the man knew he can't do anything but wait and hope for his death, because it was far too much. He has these.. muscle aches all the time, night terrors, he always spits blood that seems to get less and less every with every pusher pressed into his neck, his eyes slowly fading from green into.. red. "Twelve minutes now, 44325, this is very nice progress," the woman donning a lab coat slid out from her chair, leaning on the glass and she started humming, lips stretching into a sick smile. The man shared this smile, unfortunately realizing that these sick scientists can control his motor reflexes now. "You do know what to do now, VISAR."
"Yes, Dr. Reid. Now releasing mutation spores."
Now, here comes her favorite part.
Green-yellow fog filled the containment glass, sending the man inside it coughing and dry-heaving from the thickness and downright putrid smell of it, but he barely moved, except to pat his bare chest weakly, doing nothing to relieve the pain burning his lungs, all the way up to his brain. Louise tilted her head, pursing her lips as she watched expectantly. She almost— almost— jumped back as 44325 threw himself against the door, hissing and licking at the glass, his skin now a pale, sick purple and blue, nails brown and decaying, teeth stained with blood from biting his own arm, the usually dark red of blood now a fascinating mauve, a color Louise very much liked. The once-man 44325 pounded heavily against the glass, actually breaking the hard container a fraction, greed for live flesh coursing through his brain like his once-need for oxygen. But not anymore, the redheaded scientist mused, looking back at the camera. "TS-44325 has not survived Mortis Lux, the mutation spores, despite the insertion of ROVINA.. next time, I need to lay off the gene mutations, don't I, VIRSA?"
"You did go too far with the G.M.S, Doctor, might I suggest cleaning the slate now? TS-44325 is breaking down the glass,"
"You do that. We're gonna go for another guy tomorrow, alright? Insert.. estimated 70% of amino acid polymorphisms in the new serum,"
"Render will be completed in 6 hours, Dr. Reid."
The blue-eyed woman barely batted an eye as a four-ton mass of steel gracefully descended on the mutated— turned— body of her latest flare, and she rubbed a hand on her face, sighing tiredly as she rolled her shoulders, the execution of 44325 taking much more out of her than any other test subjects. She liked his eyes. She went on to collect her colleague, the clipboard deposited on the table near the rendering serums. Frowning almost terrifyingly, she groaned as she discovered hatch 12 open, banging her head on the door frame repeatedly.
"VIRSA! I told you not to open HATCH 12! Now look, Plaines is using my computer for porn!"
On second thought, maybe she'd use Jordan tomorrow.
"Wake up.. c'mon! WAKE UP, YOU STUPID RETARD! Knulla! DUM(Fuck! STUPID..)!"
A girl with sunset hair and sky blue eyes shook the fallen person infront of her, blood and gore marring her face like war paint, but right now she could care less. She also couldn't ignore the large gash running down her comrade's side, just slightly an inch away from her collar bone, blood and bits and pieces of flesh and meat decorating the person's still, cold body. "What am I supposed to do? I-I don't know..Jag vet inte vad jag göra(I dont know what to do).." she cried, watching as her comrade slipped away into death, eyes fluttering with gay abandon. The woman held her partner's body close to her, willing her twin to come back to her. What will she do when her other half is gone? One half of a whole can't function properly, her sibling knows that.
"Don't.. lämna.. lämna.. me(leave),"
" Joi .. ego paenitet. I'm so sorry.. Joi.."
"Shh..Lucy, Lucy.. shh.."
They spoke in tongues, shifting into six different languages every time, seeking comfort in words the people surrounding them could not comprehend, moving around, barely noticing what was happening to the twins. "Mi amore.." Joi sobbed, hovering her mouth just inches away from her twins', eyes shutting close as she acknowledged the lack of air escaping River's nose, hands clutching desperately on her twin's drenched trench coat, sobbing brokenly, hair curtaining over their faces as one breathed, the other lying still, face contorted into a sad scowl as the body began to stiffen, from the cold chill in one of Manhattan's dread, dark alleyways. "Lucy.. you once told me.. that.. that.. when soul mates die.. illi(they) become reincarnated into..bigna(twins),"
"I'm so sorry for leaving, I was scared that we'd both go to hell.."
"—but I can endure that with you. How could you go somewhere you thought I couldn't follow?"
Joi plucked the gun holstered in her twin's hip, lifting it so that it came in contact with the side of her head, and the last things that left her mouth were
"Aš tave sekti betkur(I'll always follow)"
Louise woke up with a jerk, falling out from the bed, and startling the living daylights out of the dog on her bed, making him poke out his furry head up out from under the duvet, grumbling annoyingly. Louise shook her head, propping her half naked body up with her elbows, looking at the husky peeking out on her bed. The dog whined, licking his wet nose cutely as white ears picked up, tilting his head curiously at his master. "Don't worry, Opi, just a dream." The red haired woman tugged herself up from the floor and shifted from foot to foot, biting her lip as she worried the skin beside her thumb, biting it till it bled. Who was that 'Joi' from her dreams? Twins? What the hell, she had a sister, but Amy sure as hell didn't have sunset red hair and sky blue eyes. She slapped her face once to make her snap out of the haze that was the woman's innocent, wide eyed face, hitting herself again for good measure. Sure, she swung both ways, but.. liking her own sister? Or who ever the hell that lady was. "Opiuum, good mornin', boy.." she nuzzled her dog's face, mock growling as Opi licked her face affectionately, intelligent green eyes perking up at his master's avid attention to him, "Louise! Jordan is here!" her younger sister called from her door, face already made up at this time of the day. "Tell him i'll be right down," the red-haired scientist quickly made her way to the bathroom, shooing her dog away as he sniffed around her dirty room, managing to bag a pack of Cheetos before trotting off, possibly to harass the ever loving shit out of Amy as she showered.
Her mind slowly drifted to her dream again, wondering who was Lucy and Joi, why she had dreamed of them, why it felt so real. Her father told her that she had slipped into a three-year coma, and that.. Louise reached to her chest, running a shaky finger on the puckered scar just shying below her collar bone, heart thundering on her chest much more painfully than she would've imagined. Hot water hit her bare skin until it reddened from the abuse, blood red hair turning almost to an eerie ebony, cobalt blues darkening impossibly, like the hints of the starting storm, breathing heavily. A dream, or a memory?
"Loui!"
Jordan rapped his fist on the door of her bathroom, and it made her start away from her haze, stepping out from under the spray and slipping into a bathrobe, reaching out to turn off the shower.
"Justine Louise Reid! Hurry the hell up! I refuse to go as your sister's date at that fucking 1D concert!"
"Don't get your panties up in a bunch, Plaines, just scram!"
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one being begged a date from a 15-year old. I'm 32, dammit!"
"And I'm 29. Now, get out! You got your fair share of porn last night in my office's computer."
"HEY!—"
"Why, am I wrong, then?"
Defeated, the older man dug his hands deep inside his jean pockets, a frown lacing his face comically. Amy was leaning on the doorframe, lips pursed and eyebrows cocked up, arms crossed over on her scantily clad chest. "You are such a dog, Jordie." She said snottily, and Opium looked up from where he lay, whining softly at Amy. But Jordan just moved on, shooting the smaller person a death glare. Amy just smirked, Louise was so much better than glaring than her shit head partner. After a minute of glaring at each other, Louise popped out from nowhere, donning a plain peach t-shirt and blue jeans, feet tucked into cognac boots. Amy shook her head in disbelief. "You're going hunting again, aren't you?" Louise just shot her a sideways glance as she passed, red hair still wet from her shower. She was picking up her light brown messenger bag from her swivel chair, striding out with precise, stiff grace, not liking how her sister knew the things she was doing for their father, but the younger Reid knew her sibling needs to, but Amy couldn't stand seeing her sister going home every night, hovering between sane and crazy, the internal war in her mind raging, and the green-eyed sister feared that one more night in that goddamned lab, and her sister will be pushed off that edge that she had been teetering on, from the start, "Whatever, Ames. Throw on some decent clothes, will you? If dad could see us right now, he is so going to pop a gasket when he sees you in those..garbs," The older Reid commented somewhat boredly, pulling on a trench coat, the one her father gave her before he died. "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy hunting. Get me some licorice and Kool-Aids. Strawberry, not grape." Amy popped a gum into her mouth, whipping out her iPhone and started tapping away, chewing obnoxiously as she turned back around, hips sashaying as she went. "Ugh, girls.." Louise put on her glasses, blinking her eyes to help it adjust immediately, smiling as Jordan gave her an exasperated smile, hand hovering impatiently on the doorknob. "You're a girl, right? You girls and your girlish tendencies," the older man huffed, exiting the house in a blur, seemingly hell-bent on getting out the house.
"Male. Late twenties to early thirties,"
"Another guy?"
"Yep. Men are more.. enduring. 44325 lasted two weeks and fifteen hours."
"Ah, I see what you mean."
The two scientists fell in step, side by side, the crowds in the busy streets of Atlanta, Georgia parting for them, as if on cue. Every so often, Louise lifted her eyes and scanned the environment, pursing her lips in annoyance as they spent the latter hours in idle searching, no one catching Louise's or Jordan's attention, well, until he did. "Eye spy, starts with the letter.."
"Got him."
Jordan nodded at his colleague, immediately parting ways to intercept the man, who was pretty much scowling at everything, dark, almost black hair swept elegantly to the sides, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his peacoat. He was of the right build, towering 5'11, icy blue eyes that seemed impenetrable and harshly biting, scruffy goatee coming in the way of the rather attractive face. But of course, this was just Jordan's opinion. Louise was totally devoted to completing her damned project, with weird Latin names and stuff, but he couldn't complain, he was getting paid to help her. That, and because of the free internet access in her office. He was downloading Deadpool last night, and was just.. scrounging the goods?
The possibility of this man being her first working test subject was fairly high, and seeing from the look of amusement and joy in his colleague's face, he's not too far from that 12% average they'd both been setting. Jordan leaned against the far wall, watching as his colleague slip in and out of the crowd meticulously, plastering on a very innocent smile as she 'accidentally' bumped into the scowling man, chuckling nervously for effect. The man paid her no mind, and Jordan could almost hear her voice, husky and shrill from annoyance, stating 'You daft little piece of shit, you'. But what surprised him was how she quickly shifted from innocent and submissive into aggressive and harsh, clocking the man in the face, before pulling down his head with her outstretched arm, chopping the nape of his neck with one hand, knocking the blue-eyed man out for a good while. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, catching the man while he fell, her eyes masking back into those innocent orbs of deceit. "Help! Somebody, please help!" this was where Jordan comes in. The man with sandy blonde hair dashed over to them, almost applauding as his partner threw in some tears for good measure, actually catching the attention of a numerous crowd. "Is anybody here a doctor?! Please!" she all but sniped when Jordan took his time, holding back laughter as he all but stumbled in, kneeling beside the knocked out beauty. "What happened to him?" he said, snorting at the straining of laughter he barely held in, masking it by mock coughing as a car passed by. "I-i don't know.. he just kinda fell.." a woman behind Louise intoned when the red head didn't answer, sending him glares and soft threats.
"Well, you took your sweet ass time," she hissed, cradling the man's dark head as they both dragged him up, Jordan calling for an ambulance that will drive them to CRITICAL, dark, grey eyes sweeping from side to side, sudden uneasiness chilling him down to his core. When the med team came, they immediately asked if both of them needed any assistance in carrying the man, Louise shook her head no, like she always did when they got a new test subject and they needed to transport him/her. "Hey Loui!" Matt, the driver for the ambulance hollered, seemingly baked into oblivion. "CRITICAL, now." Jordan looked at his colleague when he heard her tone, hoping for the worst, and seeing something not too far from it. The redhead had her pale, shaky hands wound up in her dark hair, gripping it tightly, shaking her head over and over again. "—who is this man?" she echoed in a monotone, looking at them man laying down on the bed passively, her mind probably running one thousand miles at the rate that she's biting her lip. The med team was looking at her weirdly, and Jordan sent them a heated glare, sending them back to their own businesses right away. Never had the blonde man seen his colleague so distraught, so confused. Maybe, who the man had been to her hit home, maybe, he knew her before she was in a coma. The man stirred, and Louise did the strangest thing.
She started singing.
A weird, other language lullaby that sent unpleasant chills down Jordan's spine, making him visibly shiver as she swung faintly from side to side, and now, he did nothing as the people inside the ambulance started shaking, noting the severe drop of temperature inside the vehicle. The tone was morose and morbid, but it had a melodious ring to it, making it repulsive and enthralling at the same time. She was staring straight ahead, as if seeing something they couldn't see, and she leaned towards Plaines, dropping her head on his shaking shoulder. The man on the stretcher twitched, humming along involuntarily as he slipped into sweet slumber, and finally, finally, the horrifyingly beautiful lullaby stopped, leaving Louise and the man in deep, dreamless sleep.
Jordan hummed.
When Louise awoke, she was at home, lying beside Opium and was dressed in her pj's, hair sticking into every possible (and impossible) direction. She pushed her shoulder length hair back, closing her eyes as she plummeted her head back into her pillow that smelled like peppermint and roses, a hint of Opium's doggy scent, but it smelled like home, and that was all that mattered.
"—hear Jerusalem bells are ringin', Roman cavalry choirs are singin', be my mirror, my soul, my shield, my missionaries in a foreign field.." her phone's ringtone came off, playing Coldplay's 'Viva La Vida' quite loudly, making her raise her head up begrudgingly.
"'Lo?"
"Yeah, no! No— hey, Loui, just wanted to drop the news that you're being funded.. again!"
"No.."
"GLENN! GET THE BLUE WIRE IN THE BLUE COMPARTMENT!"
"Should I hang up?"
"No! No, no!"
"Who are you talking to? Me, or Glenn?"
"Justlookatyourinbox,Isentyouamessage," Jordan panted, seemingly out of breath as he hung up, just in time as a soft tinkle announced his messages' arrival. Louise sat up from her lying position, shifting into a lazy sprawl and handling her blue flip phone carelessly, her other hand rubbing her eye ruthlessly.
Re: Monies.
-L,
Horvath wanted to fund you again. New OFFICE! I haven't accepted yet, 'cause you were still asleep. LD-V311 is still in Lux, and VIRSA needs updating. Come in this day!
-J
Louise stared boredly, typing a K and
sending it right away, before throwing the phone on the sheets in the middle of her and Opium. "Opi, should I come into work today?" She muttered sullenly, her voice muffled by the pillow. Opium nuzzled his master's short red hair, huffing as it came in the way of his nose, snot and other things falling on his master's hair. The dog backed his head away, face contorted into a horrified look. "You sneezed in my hair again.."
Louise shook her head and pushed herself up, groaning pitifully as she swung her legs to the side of the queen sized bed, feet touching the cold floor. She shuddered, looking back over her shoulder to glare at her passive husky, who was looking back at her with his intelligent green eyes, licking his nose in anticipation. "Now I have to take a bath. And I can't sleep anymore!" She maundered, rubbing her face exasperatedly.
Half an hour later, she was pulling on a black leather jacket over her grey v-neck, hair pulled into a lazy bun. "I'm heading out now." She cheerily said, licking her lips to wet it as she went out, smiling as she passed Amy's room, her blonde sister snoring, half of her body situated on the floor, typical of all the 15-year olds at 3 am in the morning. Louise shook her head, continuing on her way out, converses slapping against the floor quietly. As her hands reached for the doorknob, a grotesque figure caught her eye and she swung, head whipping to the side at breakneck speed as she stumbled away, eyes widening as she saw that same girl, from her dreams.
"L-lucy.."
The redhead paused, snarling at the apparition with confused, hateful blue orbs. "Get-get out of my house!" She shrieked, and Opium came running about, ears flattened to his head, baring his teeth in a growl. "I can't, Lucy. I'm a figment of your imagination, and unless you forget all about me, I won't go away,"
That made the scientist stop, mouth agape as she raked her hands through her hair, and she didn't know what happened next, but in a sudden blur, she had whipped out a bat, hauling it overhead and slamming it down in an outrage, her eyes horrifyingly dark, but stopped, once the apparition looked up with soulful, impossibly deep sky blue eyes, and her thoughts came to an abrupt halt, marveling on how the man from yesterday and this girl had uncanningly similar eyes. "Wh—"
"Louise? Sis, are you there?"
The woman's hand fell on her cheek, warm, far too warm, and she unexpectedly leaned in to the touch, and she blinked, and the touch was gone.
"Loui.. what are you doing with a steel bat?"
"Uh— practicing my swing?"
"Practicing your.. swing..?"
"Yes, yeah. Yeah."
Louise put down the bat, digging her petite hands inside her slacks pockets, whistling sheepishly. "Whatever. It's 3-something in the MORNING. Do you know what that does to a teenager?" Amy ranted, folding her arms over her pj-clad chest, rolling her green eyes as her sister nodded and smoothed herself against the door, one hand resting against the doorknob. "Dinner. Tonight. Black Label." And with a flash, the redheaded Reid slipped out and about, her car keys draped around one slim finger. "—ere without you ba-by.." she sing-songed as she slipped inside her Audi, almost bumping her head as she suddenly remembered her encounter. Her trusty messenger bag was thrown to the passenger's seat.
She slotted her keys and turned on the car, reveling in the soft purr of Sky, leaning her head on the hard leather of the steering wheel. Her cobalt blue orbs slid close, and she sighed.
"LUCY! NO! LUCIFER!"
"Sonofabitch!" Louise recoiled away from the steering wheel, panting as she shook her head wildly, not believing what she saw behind her eyes.
"We-whu-what the hell?!" She sputtered, blinking twice before regaining her composture, hands wobbled uncontrollably, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled force. She drove out like a madman, eyes trained in the rearview mirror, where the dark reflection of the woman from her dreams stood, head tilted, waiting, just waiting. Louise didn't want to know her past, no matter what everybody thought. She didn't want to remember something that her mind voluntarily erased, didn't want t know the truth. She was scared.
Louise sat there, mindlessly passing every red light and just driving, shocked to a level at the sudden change of her life, now seeing a girl she hadn't seen all her life, and a man who looked like her, despite their hair colors. Long, dark eyelashes, thin, passive lips. They were eerily familiar, she mused as she pulled inside CRITICAL's parking lot, some of her co-scientists waving at her in that jolly, guiltless way of theirs.
"Dr. Reid!"
Louise shivered and grit her teeth, turning off Sky's engine and gathering her things as Lori Grimes, the two-timing bitch her former colleague, Rick Grimes married. This doe-eyed slut was the sole reason why Rick was put in another department, despite her desperate need of his genius in coding DNA. "Yes, Mrs. Grimes?" The redhead donning thick-rimmed glasses all but bit out, knowing not to piss the lover of her boss, Shane Walsh. If she had it her way, she'd burn the whore down with radioactive chemicals and watch her pretty, brown eyes pop and sizzle out of her eye sockets. Lori sneered, not liking the way she hadn't addressed her as a 'Doctor', hands on her hips as the taller woman slid out of her car. "Now, you little—"
Louise thanked the high heavens as her phone rang, the lovely notes of freedom ringing through out the parking lot. She pulled out her blue flip phone and opened it, her snowflake keychain tinkling with every move she made. "You've reached Dr. Reid," she said, sweeping past the Grimes woman and shouldering her bag, while pushing a button on her car keys, effectively closing her convertible down.
"Yes, Dr. Horvath. Yessir, Dr. Walsh did notify Dr. Plaines." She paused, though not breaking her stride as she walked through the giant, sliding clear glass that was the door, the indignant Lori at her tail. "DNA mutation mixing still in process sir. No, sir.." she stopped, as if in deep thought as her hand hovered on the door of her office, eyes narrowing. "New York, sir?" She stated unbelievingly, maiming the phone just a bit away to tell Lori off. "If you mind, Mrs. Grimes. I need to work." Louise entered the door, eyes sweeping along the expanse of her office, noting differences, and finding none.
"I need you and Jordan in New York."
"But sir, LD-3V11—"
"You can bring him along, if need be. Walsh needs you there in two months. You got till then, Reid."
"Yessir."
The scientist slammed the phone shut, putting it down and moving on to wear her lab coat, pressing the intercom to hear from Jordan. "Hello, Dr. Reid," it was Glenn Rhee, Jordan's PA(who was somewhat a genius in coding, but shit at wiring), who greeted her, and she grunted and hung up, picking up her clip board. Her feet carried her automatically to the lab, and she dreaded the long, usually dark corridor where none of her fellow scientists usually went— well, that there was the understatement of the year. Those snotty nosed germ pickers avoided the place like the plague, and sometimes, even her and Jordan. But she didn't regret her job, not one bit. Her father left this for her to finish, and she'd be damned if she let Amy follow through this insanity.
Well, it wasn't only her baby sister who thinks Louise's loosing her damn marbles.
"Damn, forgot my coffee." She grunted as she swiped her card as she did everyday, leaning in to let the machine scan her eye.
"Welcome, Dr. Reid."
"Wake sleeping beauty up."
"LD-3V11 did not achieve REM sleep at all, Doctor."
This was new, the redhead mused as she stepped inside, not bothering to exchange her clipboard for her usual one, opting to get this over and done with.
"—so, did you see Reid before, then?"
Jordan was seated in her plush chair, legs folded neatly in front of him, his grey eyes twinkling with downright amusement. The man in question was looking back at him with cold, calculated eyes, the glass container not at all a barrier to hinder his utmost hate. Jordan hummed as he propped his head up on his palm, having a one-way conversation with the brunette. "You did know her!" He exclaimed after a full minute, slapping his knee and muttering soft 'I knew its'. The other man pulled his knees up to his chest, covering his bare, scar riddled chest with denim-clad legs, not gracing Louise's partner with even a squeak, but that didn't stop Jordan from opening his damn pie-hole. "You know, before she was.." he made tearing and crashing sounds, his hands crumpling, as if tearing a piece of paper.
"...defragmented?"
Louise stumbled, head pounding with immense pain and she growled, closing her eyes, doubled over from the sheer force of her sudden head ache.
"—alive! Get her on the amb—"
"She's way too unstable!"
"—she's waking up!"
"—chzzzch— get Rivers out of there. Get her damn dead twin OUTTA THERE!"
Louise opened her eyes, gasping as she saw men and women darting about, few wearing the same lab coat that she did, only theirs had one dark blue spear-thing emblem on the breast pocket. They were ethereal, but it seemed there, with her, breathing the same air as she did, only.. not seeing her.
Then, she looked down, and there she was.
The girl lying on the floor wasn't her! Louise was standing here, untouched, not half-dead!
THUD! CRASH!
Louise whipped around, finding the source of the sound, and she expected to find Jordan, but was greeted by the very dead body of the woman from her dreams, being hauled away from her still body and into a black car, and they dropped the body, cursing colorfully.
"Attenzione, vero, fuckface?(be careful, would you, fuckface?)" The woman with dark brown hair slapped the man with her and continued to curse silently, complaining about the now stinky smear of blood on her immaculately white lab coat. They moved to pick the corpse up again, and Louise caught sight of her hand, where a little star was tattooed in the junction of her thumb and pointer finger, the same as hers.
"—This one's waking up!" Louise looked back, red hair whipping as she saw—
"Louise!"
Jordan?
"Hey, hey dude, get up man, what the fuck happened to you?"
Louise shook her head and blinked rapidly, adjusting her eyes as she saw that she was in the alleyway beside their building, Jordan hovering beside her as he moved about, freaking the shit out of himself. "I-i.. what?" Louise said lightly as she reached up to cradle her head, gasping as she saw the cuts and bruises littering them.
"What the hell happened to you? You just.. show up and then run away?! What th— if you'd been any baked than this..!" He scolded, standing up and pacing, a nervous tic they both shared.
"Tell me, Jordan.. does the-the new test subject have a tattoo.." she held up her hand, showing her small tattoo, bloodied by the wounds scattered there. "..like this?"
"Yes—no, I don't think so.. oh, hell.. we need to take care of those," the man was distractedly looking up and down, as if in deep thought and Louise stood up, wavering a little as she braced a hand on the wall of the dirty alleyway, dry heaving from standing too fast. "Hey!" Jordan quickly made his way towards her, catching her as she swerved about, strong arms encasing the lithe body.
"My head hurts, Jordan."
"Maybe because you nearly popped it open?"
"Shu—oh, I'm too tired for this.."
Louise let out a soft whine and delved deeper into her senior's arms, struggling to keep awake. "That's right, humpty-dumpty, no shut-eye yet." Jordan shifted her in his arms, climbing back up to the lab, where he left that damn quiet test subject.
"(Galician)Eu debería mercar un barco..non, non.. Jordan.. Sei que o the new test subject..(I should buy a boat.. no, no Jordan, I know the new test subject)"
"This is you when you're drunk. Like the fucking Google Translate!"
"(Italian)Lui..Mi piacciono i suoi occhi..(He.. I like his eyes)"
"Shut up already. It's not even 12!"
Louise rambled on, shifting into one language to the other, lolling her head restlessly and constantly, constantly playing with his hair, and that's a pet peeve she knew he solely hated. "LOUISE JUSTIN REID!" He snapped when she pulled on his lips, garbling about how pretty and girly he was. This made her look up, Jordan's voice echoing along the corridor. Blue eyes against gray. Cold, against warm.
"L-louise?"
She smiled, leaning back to him and closing her eyes, her arms draped around his neck, the familiar smell of peppermint and rose evading his senses.
"VIRSA, open up."
"Voice recognized: Dr. Jordan Plaines." VIRSA's monotone gave the gray eyed man some comfort as he stepped in the room and out of the darkness, sighing audibly as he set down the partly unconscious woman on her swivel chair and she sat up, smirking crookedly as Jordan moved to get the first aid, muttering about clumsiness.
Louise watched the man inside the glass container as he watched her, icy blue eyes judging her every move as she glided towards him, lips curling into a frown as he neared the glass separating them. She tilted her head, flattening one hand against the cold container, one pupil blown wider than the other, making it look almost ebony. The other remained stormy, arctic blue, and they stared at each other, almost a carbon copy of one another.
"All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain—" she sang softly, almost feeling the same warmth as the man leveled his palm with hers, electricity coursing through her veins.
"All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over.." the man sang after her, his voice husky and gruff, a sign of not using it recently. His eyes were locked with hers, and it was like looking into a mirror, seeing themselves, but also, not themselves. As he pulled the last note, he tilted his head in the right light, making the tips of his hair the color of the setting sun, and Louise ripped herself away, raising a fist and giving out a cry of despair, slamming her fist on the man's upturned hand, cracking the glass with the force of her punch alone, veins wrenching with blinding pain, but her face remained stoic and cold, looking up and she glowered, sliding her fist down, blood smearing the glass.
"Who are you?"
"No one 'tha you'd like ta know, angelface."
And the man turned and sat back down on his steel table, mouth barely quirking up in a quiet sneer. Louise smirked her own smug look, red hair wildly matted to her skin, long eyelashes batting slowly.
"Recording starts in 3..2..1."
[Two weeks and three days later]
Louise was in cloud-nine.
Everything was going just as she'd thought, they were set to move to New York in three days, the new serum, Eximius, as Glenn, the nosy but useful coder suggested, and that serum.. had worked on LD, and Jordan had been beautifully helpful in the past week, rotating in between his life and work as to not stress her any further.
Oh, did she tell you she was dying?
Apparently, working so closely with mutation spores while not administering Eximius has side effects, not that she didn't know it. She's a goddamned scientist, for Christ's sake! She tends to know this shit! She hadn't told Jordan, or Glenn, or Rick about her condition, but somehow, they just feel it.
"Guh.." she sighed tiredly, splashing her face with a handful of ice cold water, and she looked up, dull, blue eyes casting a reflection she thoroughly despised. There was dark circles under her eyes, cheeks a tad bit sunken and hair an inch too frizzy. Her skin that was once a pleasant pale, was now pasty, dead and tinted with a little sickly green, blue lines running up her neck, but it was easily hidden under dark turtle necks and cuffed collars. She couldn't dwell on that now, especially when everything's looking up.
What will happen to Amy once she's gone? Their Mom and Dad are dead, no close relatives.. and Jordan will be in New York. "Shit." She hissed as her world spun, bracing her body against the wall as she waited it out, panting heavily. It was unbearably cold, but for some ungodly reason, she was sweating like she ran the 100 mile marathon, her body shaking as her cells tried to fight the anti-bodies.
"Dr. Reid?" Glenn's voice sounded through the door, muffled but filled with concern. "Dr. Reid, are you alright?" He said again, knocking on the door as he didn't receive an answer.
"I-im alright. You know, girly matters." It was a lie that tied her tongue in knots, but it was the best she's got. The redheaded scientist slid down the floor, eyes sliding close as she hit the cold ground. "Okay, Dr. Reid," Glenn muttered anxiously, not wasting any time and leaving, probably to help Jordan packing. Shuddering hands reached inside her lab pockets, pulling out a prescription of Vicodin, popping it open and pouring at least three in her hand. She needed this. She needed this. Just until she finds Amy a new home and Jordan knows the ropes of her business. Until then, she's going to swallow the pain down and pretend.
Pretend that everything's going to be okay.
She grunted as she swallowed the pills dry, the rough exterior scraping her throat unpleasantly. The scientist walks out a minute later, her red hair pulled up into an elegant coif, eyes a bit dim and hazy. She makes her way towards Jordan and smiles, picking up a box and hauling it up with the others, her wince barely visible.
"LD's doing great," Jordan clears his throat, handing a folder to Glenn but keeping his eyes on the quiet redhead, who smiled and hummed her agreement, bending down to pluck the container of flasks, one by one putting it inside her box, careful not to break anything. "Yeah, he's over there, playing with that thingy in your office, Dr. Plaines." The Asian dead panned, whistling as he put away some of the chemicals in a yellow box that said 'hazardous', nimble hands wrapping around the containers. Louise chuckled, they did let LD out, because he broke the glass down because 'He damn well needed his goddamned time'. "HEY!" Jordan throttled the dark haired redneck, but the man just narrowed his eyes at him, using his newly found powers to gain the upper-hand, but he didn't really need it. Louise bites her lips as a spiking pain went up her spine, suddenly stiffening as she felt Glenn's hand fall on the small of her back, the notion careful and gentle, but to her, it was more painful than that—
"JESUS!" She shrieked as Glenn patted her back, white hot agony blurring her already hazy eyes. The younger man pulled away immediately, recoiling as if something burning scalded him. Jordan and LD was there in a flash, the sandy blonde walking up to her and pulling up her bent body, cradling her head as she sobbed in pain, and Louise thought.. she thought she'd have more time. "'M alright, 'm grand.." she slurred, the unfamiliar lilt protruding from every word and she pulled away, steadying herself against the other man, who kept his hands on her hips, guiding her. "'M fucken fine!" She snapped, though not letting herself fall away from those warm, strong and calloused hands. "Yer not fine." The man sniped, pulling her astride him as Jordan and Glenn watched, the blue eyed guy manhandling Louise.
"Okay, I 'don feel so hot." And she vomited, blood splattering the floor and LD's broad, shirt clad chest. "Ya idiot.." the redneck drawled, scowling characteristically as he shoved her off him, but still cradling her. "Wh-what? What is wrong with her?" Jordan starts, but is cut off by Glenn's realizing look, his mouth ajar.
"T-the.. the Mortis.."
"She keeps maintenance of it, why?"
"She's infected, dumbass." The man whose name still remained unknown stated blandly, laying down Louise's still body on the table she just cleared out, barely breathing. "Oh, God." Jordan feels so stupid for not knowing it was the reason why she was always just so drained. "We need to get her in the red room, now!" Jordan's voice cut through the thick silence like a knife, desperation lacing his tone almost pathetically.
"Easy 'ere cowboy.. I ain't out onna ro-rodeo.." Louise slurred weakly, and if she'd been any stronger, she'd stomp their asses something fierce. "We-we need to get her to a hospital, Jordan." Says Glenn as they haul her inside the observation room, and LD scoffed in disbelief, icy blue eyes narrowing into biting slits, but before he could even talk, Jordan butted in, "She's infected. There's nothing those fucking doctors can do."
"Heyy- don' talk like 'm not 'ere.. 'm here.. 'm righ'—"
"Shut up already."
The delusional woman giggled as she deteriorated, laying back down on the cold, steel table, a sad grin spreading through her face. "Insert an IV in her. We need to drain the blood and clean it," Jordan commanded fluently, rashly taking ahold of his colleague's arm, and all but tearing off the cloth obscuring it, wincing as he saw the veins glow a disgusting purple. "I'm not a doctor, Reid. I'm a fucking scientist, you hear me? SCIENTIST." But the woman just cackled, waving her hand dismissively as Glenn tried to insert a needle into her arm, LD taking a rough grip on her shoulders. "Ya can't do nothin' no more," Louise looked up at the ceiling as her eyes drifted close, slipping into well deserved sleep.
"Well, atleast she shut up," Jordan quipped, pushing aside his colleague's red hair to wipe the sweat away from her face, while Glenn finally inserted the IV. "VIRSA, get the drone." LD was tugging at one of those plaids Louise gives him, sleeveless once more, because he always finds the finest damn opportunity to hack them off. Seriously. "Yes, Dr. Plaines, Drone will be ready in three hours." VIRSA said, in that same tone she always had, but it was somewhat tinted with concern. Jordan didn't remember Louise programming VIRSA with emotions. "No. I need it now, this bitch might not have three hours." And it was true, she was barely breathing, her eyes clouded with a thin sheet of blue-white, her thin, shapely lips opening more often than not to breathe deeply, body slackening with every passing minute. She was dying. "Hey, hey, doc! Don' die now, who's gonna keep maintenance 'o me?" The redneck drawled, helping Glenn while he carried the monitors up, one by one inserting them into her prone body.
"Quit fucking around and put it in her!"
"Gee, Doctor. That came out six or seven meanings," Glenn piped nervously, gulping as he managed to put a tube down his colleague's nose, sickly purple and brown blood seeping out from her throat. "It's clotting her blood. It's clotting her blood!" The gray-eyed man declared stupidly, not really knowing what to do. He didn't know whether or not to inject Eximius to the redhead or whatever shit this woman would pull if she was half awake.
"Here,"
"Son of a fuck!"
Seriously, did this man not know how to announce his fucking presence? One minute, he was standing right infront of him, and the next he was all but shoving a small vial of— "Diavolo.. Bacio? The fuck is that?" Jordan grits out, shaking his head as he hurriedly whipped out a syringe and got a sample of Louise's blood, cursing as the thick, sloppy blood stubbornly slicked in. "Well, doctor, fer some reason, this actually migh' work, 'cuz she engineered this ta temporarily reverse the fucken virus." The redneck cocked his eyebrow unamusedly, holding up the small, cylindrical container filled with strange electric-blue liquid like a beacon in the skies for them to follow, and they were no three kings, but Jordan knew that this weirdly colored thing was their way to safety. "Just let—let VIRSA scan it, or something." Glenn squeaked from his corner, eyes looking at the monitors that kept track of the patient's heartbeat and breathing, which was gradually slowing down with every second they wasted, standing there.
"Dear Lord God, ya scientist fucks are just the right mix inta 'th population, 'arnt ya?" The man levelled his blue eyes on Jordan's grey eyes, pushing the vial on his chest, daring him to do what shit he gotta do. Glenn actually looks like he might pass out from where he's standing because the man was just. So. Goddamned. Hot. And Jordan did just not think of that. "'Th name's Daryl, by 'th way, just so ya geeks 'don call me LD no more." Daryl watched as the man scoffed inrediculously as he skipped over the entire ritual and just dumped the whole vial into Louise's dextrose, the sparkling(really, Louise? Sparkling blue vials? No more Twilight shit for you) serum mucking up the translucent liquid in just a second.
"Dolce Gesù patata bollente!(SWEET JESUS HOT POTATO!)" Louise sprang up the bed all of a sudden, eyes unfocused and movements sluggish. She was still bleeding from her nose, the brown red blood slowly turning back to its normal red. Her red hair framed her face like a bloody halo, chest heaving as pain gripped at her, various tubes hanging around her clothed body. "Did you..?" She said uncertainly, and only then did they notice the grotesque forming of blood in her left eye, leaving the iris a dark purple. "You really have a thing with different language names, don't you?" Jordan let out a shaky laugh, propping himself up with his palms flat against the cold, steel table. Daryl turned around to leave, his usual scowl on his face, and Glenn was flattening himself up against a shelf, his brown eyes widening because he hadn't actually signed up for this shit, but it was better than going back to his crappy job at Dick's(Haha). Louise swerved about, one hand reaching out to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"Why didn't you tell me..?" Says Jordan, looking up from his hunched shoulders. "I thought it'd be best," the redhead responded, pulling out the recently inserted tube from her nose, wincing at the slight pinch it gave her. "Typical. There's a lot of things you always think as 'what's best'" Jordan never moved, but his gaze hardened, expressing his feelings and frustration through those warm greys. "Do you fucking know why we're going to New York, Jordan?" She says almost too quietly, standing there as she finished removing the tubes, head slightly tilted to the side, focusing on some spot on the tiled floor. "It's because that's what I thought best." And she strode of with her usual airy grace, but Jordan couldn't help but notice, as he straightened up, that her gait was slightly tainted.
[Manhattan, New York. Reeve Industries Black Tie event, 08:03 pm]
Glenn gulped as he walked inside the big, gaudy place, dressed impeccably in a dark pinstripe suit and a dark blue bow tie, his footsteps making a soft 'clack-clack' against the marble floor. He felt woozy. But then again, he always felt woozy, but now, he didn't know of he wanted to be woozy normally or to be woozy with his head inside a toilet, puking all of this fucking wooziness away. Now, he's confusing himself. He almost wanted to reach out and thread a hand through his black hair, but he knew Louise would give him hell for ruining her 'masterpiece'. Find Louise, find Louise, he repeated like a mantra inside his head, hands fisting and opening repeatedly, and he was pretty sure he was sweating profusely.
"Hey, Glenn."
The Asian jumped at the soft, tired but mellow voice, and he turned his head to meet Louise's deep blue and purple eyes, a wisp of a smile on her face. "You look very dashing, Rhee," she hooked her hand on the crook of Glenn's arm, smiling as men and women passed them by, greeting respectfully at some who talked to the prodigal daughter of Simoun Reid, some appraising her flawless beauty, which she responded with a slight smile and a thank you, wincing just a little every time some guy lands their hand on the small of her back, or to pat her anywhere. Though none of the bruises or the lines show, her face was a dead give away, especially when she's manhandled. Another side effect. Severe sensitivity. Glenn glanced over to his partner, wondering why he was here instead of Jordan, or LD—Daryl—. But it was worth it. This was the closest he had to a date, and he's sure that his cousin being paid to bring him to prom isn't really a date. Louise was beautiful, and it isn't everyday that you see her like this. Made-up, fitted and puffed into perfection, pulled into an intense coil of anger and beauty just waiting to happen. Usually, she had her hair up in a lazy bun or braid, no make-up whatsoever, her glasses teetering over her nose as she reads Daryl's daily stats, or while she's reprogramming VIRSA, she's always just simple, not really giving a rat's ass about anything that didn't peak her interest. This wasn't her, at all. "Glenn?" Her voice dropped an octave, clutching his arm in a vice-like grip. She was steering them towards the dance floor, and Glenn was ready to bolt and die in a hole. "I-i don't know how to dance!" He protested, but e knew better than to go against Louise's wishes. She may not know it, but her punches are goddamned painful. "Wanna know why I'm late?" She looked up at him as she guided his hands on her hips, swaying gently to the tinkling melody, eyes cold and serious as she laid her hands on his shoulders.
"Camille wants to kill me,"
"As in, Camille, our CEO?"
"That's the one. I need you to cover for me so I can deliver the vial to Rosales,"
"W-what..I don't.. deliver t-the vial..?"
"Now, listen to me and listen to me clear. As soon as I disappear from that door, you, Daryl and Jordan need to go back to Georgia." She said with graphical honesty, leaning over to whisper one last thing in his ear. "Take care." And the Asian startled, sputtering as she pulled away from him, sending him a tired, half-hearted smile before she walked away from him, Jordan and Daryl possibly forever.
He looked away as he lifted a hand to his ear, eyes hard as he spoke harshly.
"Louise is gone."
Louise's smile left her face as soon as she entered the huge, glass double doors leading to another part of the huge dome, eyes temporarily blinded by the sharp lights of the chandeliers, her blue, flowing gown sweeping gracefully against the marble. "Louise! Ah, here she is, Louise Reid! The woman of the hour!" A man with weird facial hair announced, every ounce of his Manhattan pride oozing from every pore, every word. "Simoun's child, yes?" A woman with long, black hair and emerald eyes announced in a very Italian brogue, standing up to meet the equally tall redhead. "I'm here to deliver the vial." She bit out, mismatched eyes narrowing as the dark-haired woman patted her shoulder, pain shooting up involuntarily. "Of course, Louise." Someone piped from the far end of the room, and the woman with soulful green eyes stepped aside, revealing a blonde haired woman with light blue eyes, pink lips pulled into an awful sneer. "Camille." She greeted, never leaving her place as all ten of the most powerful and influential people from all over the world looked at her through judging eyes, seeing only a girl with the capability to destroy the world.
"Where is the test subject?" Camille sniped, glaring through weak blue eyes, meeting Louise's hard ones. "He's gone." She paused, her heart thumping against her ribcage as their guards surrounded her, ready to snap her in two if need be. She didn't get why these people feared her that much, but she was sent here to deliver a package, and that, she will.
"I came here to deliver the Mortis."
"Go on, son, get it." The man with weird facial hair stated to the tall man beside him, and the other acted right away. When he reached her, he was shaking in her mere presence, holding out a shuddering hand. Louise handed the small vial containing the fate of the world disguised as a mascara container, and the man shivered severely, fearing for his life.
"Shoot her."
Time stopped as she heard those two words come out from the mouth of the widow of her father, and she dashed for it, whipping out a small Beretta from the holster on her leg. (Thank God for Daryl's practicality or sheer paranoia) a bullet whizzed past her head as one of the brutes shot at the quick figure, soon followed by a rain of frenzied bullets, fearing the former deadliest agent of CRITICAL. But Louise did not know this, and Camille was determined to let it stay that way. "Kill her, you dimwits!" They were moving to leave the battlefield, but fate denied them their destiny as the man holding the liquified death tripped and the vial came flying out of his hand, hitting a nearby wall with a crack.
Louise narrowed her eyes and held her gun with one hand, instinctively stretching her finger to flip off the safety switch. Then, she pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three of the guards fell down with a bloody hole on each forehead, sunglasses askew. The others stopped, then continued to shoot, now shaking in fear.
From Lucifer Rivers.
"AHHH!" Louise then noticed the green-yellow spores in the air, and she panicked, cursing enough to make a sailor blush. She picked up her pace, lifting up an arm to cover her nose and mouth, but she was weak. Weaker. She was dying. Camille was pushing aside the twitching bodies of some of those who were already infected, and Louise spared no minute in lifting her gun with ease and shooting with precise grace at them, each a bullet to the head, directly killing them. The spores made her fall to her knees, spewing blood.
She barely registered Shane Walsh escorting Camille Stephens out, sending her a smug look from behind her gas mask.
Jordan looked out from the window of the plane, his grey eyes sad as they left New York and Louise, a dead weight resting against his shoulders. Daryl was trying not to burst then and there from being out in the open, eyes shut close and arms folded tightly. Glenn was softly sniffing from the other seat, curling into himself, not really accepting that Louise was left behind, voluntarily or not.
"Ya know she's gunna be alrigh'." Daryl stated blandly, as if feeling the man's uneasiness about the decision, one icy blue eye cracked open. "She's half-dead. The meds are practically the only thing holding her up," Jordan argued, making Glenn look up at him in realization, tears streaking his face. "Ya made 'th chink cry," the redneck said in lieu to a reply, knowing very well that what Jordan said was correct. But Daryl also knows that Louise won't go down with a whimper.
A shiver ran through Daryl's spine, making him shudder.
The last thing they saw of New York were embers.
Prologue to Shattered: Trading Yesterday and Epilogue to Iridescent.
Someone was dragging her.
She felt the sharp scrapes of the destroyed marble pierce her skin, marring them with blood.
It hurt, but Louise could barely care.
Someone was breathing on her.
"Wake up," it was a fairly scratchy voice tainted with concern, but Louise wanted to give up. It hurt too much. Far too much.
"You just need to hang on a little more,"
Something was sticking out of her ankle. She opened her eyes, seeing sunset curls and the sky, and somehow, it made her breathe easier. "Joi.." she muttered, oxygen cut off as the thing sticking out from her ankle was brutally ripped out, but she can't even muster up the energy to whimper, or scream. "Hang on," the voice whispered, and a familiar warmth fell on her gritty, bloody face, making her cry out in relief. She felt relief, pain, joy all at the same time as she cried, unbelievable hurt piercing through her skin like a heroin dart. "Fight for me, Lucy. I love.. loved you." Louise hissed as the warmth faded away, and she was left in pain and darkness.
"I'll see you again."
Gasping, Louise's body arched up, eyes flinging open. Her body was a mangled mess on the floor, but she could finally sit up. Arctic blue eyes scanned the battlefield, where only she was the victor, for now. Bodies were burning around her, some ambling around. What she feared had happened.
Long, dark blue swirls ran up her left arm like a tattoo, a mutation she did not anticipate. Struggling up, she ignored her destroyed dress as her gun nestled in her palm comfortably, three bullets left in the magazine. Barefoot and injured, she made her way to the door, exiting it and revealing the battlefield the world has turned into.
She needed to go back to Georgia.
A/N: HAEEEEY! This is an OC, uh, er, OC and AU that will follow through with the next installation, Chaos. Leave a comment and hit favorite and follow if you enjoyed it, it really helps me out a lot, and give me your ideas about what i should do next! Remember, no hate! Especially towards me. Yeah, you can cuss me out a little, then we'd have a jolly good drink, yeah? BTW, I sorely need a freaking beta, and if you're up for it, send me your email or PM me about what you think! Thanks, bros.
*brofist*
BAHAYEEEEEEE!