Reality Check
By Rowe
Thankyou Mel, for the wonderful betaeing. And a special thankyou to Kiwi for helping to find Ben when I lost him. Check out this and my other fics at The Broken World http://sorrow.hyperboards.com/index.cgi
Chapter 3: Opening up to reveal insideā¦
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A cool breeze brushed across his face as he gazed down at the cold, grey city below. Concentrating, he extended his focus to see as far as he could. He watched the people scurry about with a sense of purpose. He was looking for any distraction to escape from the questions plaguing his mind. Each kill used to bring him some sense of accomplishment, a completed mission. They had always served as a reaffirmation of his faith and loyalty. Now he just felt empty. The hunger and need were rising faster this time.
Max was staring up at him as he let his imagination run wild. He wanted to make her smile, that smile always made his world seem less grey. She lay on her bunk, her dark hair cropped short and those expressive eyes shining. Making shadow puppets to amuse them and stories that gave them answers, he had a place and purpose within his family's lives.Ben let a tear slide down his face as the New York skyline brought him back to the present. Manticore may have been brutal in their methods, but at least there they had had each other. In this hostile outside world people lived inside their own small cocoons, insulated from the pain and suffering around them. Wrapped up in their own misery. The fears and pain of his unit had been shared, it had made them a family, one where no one was ever alone. Now he was never anything but alone, especially amongst the bustling crowds.
Here he was a revved up killing machine sitting idly around like a discarded toy; made to feel useless without a mission. Anger started to push the pain back. He relished it as it gave him a greater sense of control. Roughly he scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. "A soldier didn't cry." He admonished himself for indulging in such weakness. He stiffened his back and glared out at the world for causing him this pain. It was definitely time to move on. The memories were catching up with him too quickly in this city now, haunting him of what he had lost. He needed to once again escape and evade.
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The hotel room door slid open easily, the lock hadn't been hard to pick. He could hear the shower running in the other room. Pausing to allow himself orientation in the room, he heard the water shut off. Assessing the best point of attack, he quickly he stepped nearer to the opening door. Lehane moved out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and fumbled on the top of the dresser. X5-494 chose then to make his presence known to his mark.
"Are you looking for these?" He raised the wire-rimmed eyeglasses and placed them on his face. As a look of stunned fear crossed the other man's face, 494 moved the garrotte around his neck and twisted till the body collapsed limply to the floor. Now to assume the identity. He looked across the surface of the dresser and didn't see what he was looking for. Processing through the clothes hanging on the back of the door, he found the man's wallet. Quickly disposing of the driver's license he replaced it with his provided forgery. Now, he was Simon Lehane, concert level pianist and new piano instructor. His new persona snapped briskly into place.
Moving over to the bed he assessed efficiently the available wardrobe. Berrisford was a middle aged, conservative businessman, rather wealthy: a dark suit and tie seemed the most appropriate choice of attire. He took the glasses off again as they made him squint, Manticore soldiers definitely didn't need further optical enhancement. Lifting his own kit to the bed, he found the plain glass pair that he had been supplied with. Putting them beside his assembled outfit, he undressed to shower before preparing to enter the Berrisford world.
He ran over his mission in preparation as the hot water flowed over him. His entry point was the girl, young and an easy mark. Though she was bright, she should still be easy to fool into accepting his assumed identity. If he was lucky she would provide him with better access to the house. As he shut off the water and reached for a towel, he looked coldly at the body in the doorway. It would be removed by Manticore before he returned but for now it left a bad taste in his mouth. Moving out into the other room, he focused on getting ready to initiate the mission proper.
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The church was now quiet but Cain had been there for hours and seen many come and go. He had come here looking for peace last night. The visual horrors of his dreams were still uppermost in his mind. All the meditation and quiet contemplation in the world didn't seem enough to erase their vividness. He looked up at the cross and for the first time in his life he doubted himself. How could he even conceive such terrible things? Feelings, not of fear but of a barely harnessed power, haunted him. Was he really capable of killing in such a brutal manner and taking pleasure from it?
Rising to his feet, he moved forward to the front of the aisle and uttered a simple heartfelt prayer. A prayer for forgiveness for being so unworthy, for even allowing such evil thoughts to enter his mind. He was frightened by his own weakness to dismiss the thoughts. The statue of the Lord looked down on him placidly. Its features were in gentle repose. They contrasted strongly with the anguished and terrified expression on the face of the man in his dreams as his hands had moved in for the kill.
Turning, he left for the sanctuary of his parent's house. There he knew he would find the comfort and security, which he sorely needed at the moment. Family and a sense of belonging, he was in dire need of those. Inside his head he was feeling like a violent sociopath, he wanted to feel normal again. He needed to be with the ones he loved.
With a renewed sense of direction, he quickened his stride. His parents had always been his rock. Their love and quiet support had driven him onwards in his search of a life's purpose. It was the pride they felt in his chosen mission in life that gave him his greatest happiness. They would reaffirm to him that he was not abnormal.
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Lydecker sighed heavily. The trail had gone cold again. It had been several weeks now since 493 had made his last kill. Last time this had happened it had signalled that he was on the move. This meant the search area would need to become wider again, they would need to keep an eye on the other cities. He looked at the photos of the victims arranged across his desk. A total of five bodies had now been identified with the same MO. He had been to Chicago, and lately New York, where could he be heading next?
He looked at one of the last photos he had of X5-493, Ben, before the escape. The child had shown no sign of this then. It may never have been a problem if he had still been contained. Shaking his head, he couldn't dismiss the feeling that he had failed this kid. He looked at the wall and the photos of the other '09 escapees. For now, he would have to shift his focus back to finding the others. Maybe they could provide him with a lead. For all their sakes he hoped to keep what they were under wraps. Transgenics roaming loose and trained to kill was hardly comforting news to the ordinary man.
