author's note
Elsa's story early-on in the Agency hasn't been told as far as I know, so I thought I'd see what I could do to try and tell it. Sure, we all know the basic hundred-word drabbles depicting her musings, chock-ridden with angst, but what about an actual story about her when she first arrived, and the time before she fell in love with Lauro?
All leads up to one thing. And I'm sure you know what that thing is.
N U O V A V I T A — N E W L I F E
act I
In a cold and scornful hospital bed I laid, just merely stirring from my dreams. The details of what had happened to me were scarce, yet still somewhat there — I had tried...to kill myself. For what reasons, I didn't know. I could only remember being bedridden in a hospital similar to the one I found myself in then, and wondered idly if I'd merely awoke in the same place in the same situation.
And then — a man appeared at my side. He was fairly attractive with a lazy swagger about him which I admired at first, although it was when he spoke that I knew I should not cross this man, ever. He watched me with an air of apprehension.
"You are in the infirmary of the Social Welfare Agency, Section 2." He spoke calmly and almost...uninterested. I found what he was telling me intriguing.
"The Social Welfare Agency?" I asked.
"Yes. You," he said, "are a cyborg assassin for the Italian government now."
My eyes widened in almost fear and terror. Me, an assassin for the government? "Well, if I'm an assassin, who is going to train me?"
"I am." Oh, did he sound calm and unworried about this whole thing. I was frightened and curious.
"You're going to train me? But I'm just a child!" The one time in a million that I would ever admit this freely.
"The Agency uses children as assassins. It's just how they — we — do things. Now, no more questions." He rose from his chair, glanced at me, and his eyes no longer reflected coldness or contempt, but perhaps...fear?
He began rummaging around on the bedside table. I snuck a quicksilver look and saw a needle for a brief moment before he turned around and stared at me coldly.
"Sit up."
What was this Agency playing at, and who is this man? His request didn't sound like a request at all, but a command. My mind swam with questions, and the only thing I felt like doing was interrogating him.
And yet, I followed his order and sat up, and, for the first time, finally realized that I had arms and legs again. How shocking for me! And I spent a good full minute gawking at my hands and arms, for I did not remember having them at the beginning of my unclear dream. My supervisor watched me, unimpressed, and said, "Dammit, stop messing around and give me your arm so I can give you a friggin' shot."
I gazed at him in alarm and ceased my childish antics at once, feeling embarrassed as I held out my arm to him and prepared myself for the slight sting that shots always gave me. It took a long time for the needle to be removed — he must have been injecting me with a lot of something.
When the procedure was finished, I rubbed the sore spot on my arm where the needle had pierced me just when he stood up and began rummaging around on the bedside table again.
"Say, what's your name?" I asked.
"Lauro," he replied absently.
"Lauro... Can I call you Mr. Lauro?"
"Yeah, whatever."