Chapter 3: Help from the CEO

Bright metallic shine. Blade. Sand. Screams. Sweat and Blood. Tears. Heat. Scolding Hot. Blue. More screaming. Sky. Endless dunes. Gold. Jewelry. Birds screaming. Rage. Woe. Insanity. Eat my sword. Rolls. Eyes. Black. Someone's screaming.

Arrow.

Woke to screaming and flew up from off the floor. No, no a bed. Eyes wide yet not taking in the world, hands fumbling for the gun that was tucked inside the belt of her pants. Didn't know why it was there. Didn't care. Pointed it around the room, looking for the screamer with wild scared eyes.

Points it with both clenched hands to a girl and freezes. I blink. She blinks. She breathes ragged and has a near insane look on her face. Hair untidy. Chest expanding and decreasing as to take in all the air.

Mirror.

I lower the gun from my reflection, realizing it was me screaming a moment ago. Made sure I shoved it out of my conscience thought quickly before I could reflect. Took a good look around. Average sized room. Book shelf with some books, duh. Closet open, mirror on the side of the door. Different clothes. There's a desk with a computer on it in the corner. The metallic plastic wires exposed of some gutted machine. Cold coffee mug. Blue blankets. Twin size bed. Comfortable. Screw driver lies alone on the floor. Rolled off most likely. Windows to the right of the desk. More city. Sunset.

Wasn't out of the game yet.

Look down to pull the sheets off me and I see my arm is bandaged. White cloth tied in well practiced knots. Means the cloaked bastard wasn't a dream. Go about removing the blankets from my person, glad to find my clothes still on. Found my shoes after looking for a couple of seconds by the door. Slipped out of the bed. Legs were wobbly though. After that, would expect it. Held the side of it for balance for a few moments with one hand, clutching my legs with the other while holding the gun. Was trying not to get dizzy. That's expected too.

Then the door slammed open unexpectedly.

I was up standing straight, Revolver pointed at the open door way, one handed, with calm stern focused eyes. Didn't even see it coming.

"She was hurt, Seto! You can't just-" Someone's saying. Younger. Definitely younger. My eyes adjust and it's the Blue eyed King Bee guy from the Corp I had come in before. He looked like he had just been pissed, but suddenly his skin had turned a paler white than before. He's frozen in the doorway; hand hasn't even left the doorknob, eyes down pointed to the gun barrel, in a black shirt and black pants. Must have ditched the coat.

"Seto?" asked that small voice again.

Someone shorter than him moves around his back. I can see a darker pair of navy eyes through the corner of my eye, but he's quick to yell.

"Mokuba don't move!" His tone is harsh, but it's the glimpse of the gun that scares him into obeying.

At that, I sigh. I point the snout of the weapon up, letting it twirl between my fingers before grabbing the butt of it and jamming it into my belt again. My legs buckled weakly again and I held onto the side of the bed for support. I averted my eyes from that blue stare.

"Sorry. Didn't expect anyone to come barging in like that…Reflex." I shoved my hand off the bed and went for my shoes against the wall. Used that wall for support as I bent down and scooped up both of my shoes. Started jamming one on at a time. When I had both of them on, he was still staring. It was freakish and unsettling to me.

"It's not loaded." I said, fished the thing back out of my belt and flicked the bullet barrel open. Only open air in the six narrow slots, windows showing blue carpet through them. I flicked it back and handed it to him so he could inspect it for himself as I started tying the laces of my shoes.

He recovered pretty quick after that. Didn't know whether to blame it on the programming or all these glitches everywhere. Still, it was more a little admiring. I got back up and he looked ticked off, gun now out of sight. Really hadn't expected getting that back anyway. I was wondering if I should've wormed around him to continue this little messed up game. The guys must have shut off the link to the room. That's probably why I couldn't hear anything. Had to be.

I listed a few more complaints for them when I finished this.

"What's your name?" he demanded. I'd do the same if someone just scared the shit out of me. Poor dude. I was checking the bandaging job on my arm, trying not to look at him in the eye. Hate having to do that.

"Drayce." I replied, tightening the cloth a bit, before leaving it alone.

"Do you have a first name?" Different voice. Younger. Looking behind him I did see a shorter kid. Big black hair. Longer and more wild. He was the owner of the navy eyes. He had a kind face. Could see it immediately. And I liked him just like that.

"For the sake of discussion, no." I said. It wasn't harsh. Wasn't playful. Just a statement.

"I'm taking it was you who did this wonderful bandaging job?" I don't think he was use to complements. I'm not either, so I can under stand not knowing what to say and not looking at me anymore. Ah well, one less pair of eyes to worry about. As for the older kid, he very much worried me.

"Do either of you have names?" I asked, trying to avoid that feeling.

"Mokuba Kaiba." Said the younger one, and pointed to the older boy in front of him.

"This is my brother. Seto."

Brothers. I looked from one to the other trying to find a resemblance and failing. They only shared having pale skin trait. It was interesting. They both acted like older brother and younger brother. Did a good job at least with this part of the programming.

"Well, thank you for saving me from that man and taking me in, but now I have to go. If you need anything from me, just ask." I started walking toward Seto, expecting him to move out of the way. He didn't.

"What man? I found you outside on the steps." replied Mokuba, younger brother I took it. I looked at him curiously through the hole under Seto's arm, thinking. That would mean someone else had come and saved me from whatever was about to happen back there. Someone who wished to remain a mystery to me.

"Interesting…" I said aloud. I was done playing around. I ducked under Seto's arm and found Mokuba to be more likable when I could see all of him. He was most definitely little brother material. Me being little sister material, I had an idea of what it must have been like. I swallowed a smile and started down the hall to my right like I knew it had always been there. Just be casual.

Mokuba was quick to catch up.

"What's interesting?" I glanced at him, to my right. Very interesting. And eerie. To look at him you could swear he was more than numbers and computer 1s and 0s. That was frightening, enough so that it made the idea of going mad completely possible. Still, his navy orbs were watching me even after I was done with my glance. I could also feel the older brother walking behind us. Got to keep an eye on the kid after all.

"…Nothing." I assumed he would just take it like a regular program. He didn't say anything else, yet I could swear he felt even more curious by that. I didn't dwell on it. Going crazy was probably one of the side effects.

Nothing to interesting was done after that. I was going to go for the door and out when Mokuba asked if I wanted breakfast. Eh, what could it hurt? I got escorted to the kitchen, big damn thing if I've ever seen one, but then the size of the house also must be added. Big mansion means big rooms, which means big kitchens.

He set off making breakfast. I offered to help him with some stuff but he's a good host, saying I was the guest and blah, blah, blah. It's cute, I'll admit it, but a bit annoying as well. Sometimes I don't like being taken care of.

Still, I didn't get mouthy. Rarely do. Instead, I contented myself with looking for another suitable weapon incase someone decided to pick a fight. My first thought was one of the long cooking knifes, but after flipping around a bit, tossing and catching, I found they were too top heavy and discarded them back into their slots. I started looking in some of the closets and found different cleaning solutions. Sure, I could spray that in people's eyes, but did I really want to get that close?

I looked at the cut on my arm and decided no.

Mokuba told me it was ready when I was checking out the liquor bottles, debating to ask if I could relieve them of it and stuff cloth in the tops of them. Make good fire explosions when lit and thrown, after all.

I put the thing down, noting rather uneasily that Seto had come back and was looking at me. Again. Felt like I was under supervision or something, which was annoying as well as unsettling. I decided he was still untrusting about the whole getting a gun in his face this morning, so I said nothing and sat down.

Pancakes, toast, orange juice, milk, boiled eggs, butter, jam, marmalade, spoons, forks, knifes, plates, flowers- I looked at the flowers suspiciously- fruit, syrup, cereal…

"You've been busy." I said looking as I was looking at my plate again, noting the blue designs on the edges of it. They looked like fancy dinning plates. The forks had complicated designs that I had to follow with my eyes a couple dozen times before I looked up to say something and stopped.

Seto was glaring. Icy cold annoyed glaring. Not at me. Other direction, across the table. Mokuba stared back with a look of urging, wide eyes, and something of a smug smile on his lips. His eyes had been darting from him to me, and he immediately stopped when he saw me staring and started blushing like hell.

I blinked once, looked down, and started poking the pancakes with my fork. I waited for them to sort themselves out, wondering what the hell that was about, not really wanting to know. When I looked up next, the kid was chewing his pancake wordlessly and avoiding my eyes again.

I ate. The food had taste. I had three glasses of orange juice, an apple, a pear, grapes, some of a pancake, and half a piece of toast before I finally got up and put my dishes into the sink and sat back down at the table, chasing everything down with yet another glass of orange juice. I'm always thirsty. Sometimes I would if I could have once been a fish.

I waited for them to finish, which wasn't long and looked at Seto as he came back. I was back to thinking about weapons, weapons, and you guessed it, more weapons!

"Could I have that gun back?" He stared at me for a moment.

"No." I sighed.

"Alright, that's just one more thing to do this morning…could I please have a pen and paper?"

I waited all of thirty seconds for Mokuba to run and grab the closest pen and paper he could find and run back. I took them and smiled as well as said a thank you before getting down to business. I wanted a list of things to get, in case I could. The first things on it were 1) good pistol, 2) bullets. After that, I ripped the paper off the pad and started folding it up, thought about it again, then unfolded it and scribbled 3) Magical device of some kind… (cards?) refolded it and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Think I could have this pen?" I got a nod from Mokuba and thanked him again as I tucked it behind my ear and rose out of the chair.

Mokuba escorted me to the front door, talking about if I should need anything, or if I even felt like, I should come down and see them. A girl would've thought it sweet, yeah I am one, but at the time it was rather weird. He seemed excited to see me again, and whether it was just that he liked me, I didn't know. I did know something was going on between him and the brother, but now was not a time to ask. I thanked them again, for the third or fourth time that day; I lost count, after declining a ride, and was out and down the steps.

About ten blocks away down a number of streets, I had my fingers pressed to my ear again and was cursing bitterly. The line was still out. Technical difficulties I was guessing, though I couldn't put the words the Stranger had said the night before.

"I severed that link. Quite easily."

I kept biting my lip until I drew blood. And about an hour after, sucking my lip, I forced the thoughts concerning that back and decided to worry about something more practical. Like getting some money.

I had considered just stealing a gun, bullets, and some cards, but the more and more I thought about it, the more and more I was sure I'd have to do some serious running. I was tired as it was. And still didn't have an idea as to how to obtain some cash. Getting a job would take too long, and going back to the Kaiba house was just way to strange to even considered.

I was walking with my hands stuff in my pockets staring at my shoes, thinking hard about it, when I heard someone yelling their head off. Wicked pissed off yelling. I look up to see what is going on.

I hadn't expected the two men to be coming right at me, running like hell, nor the way I put my arm up when they tired to go around, knocking the first guy right off his feet and the second straight over the first, or even when I put my foot down over the back of the second guy sprawled on the sidewalk.

I did feel the whiplash in my arm though.

That hurt like hell.

I was rubbing it when the yeller was coming up the sidewalk. Some blonde that was taller than me with brown eyes and a wicked accent. He stopped about three feet away from me, staring in astonishment for a moment, and I was sure he was one of those, 'men are superior to women' deals and had to fight of a strong dislike.

When he didn't say anything for a couple of minutes I was done waiting.

"Is this your problem?" I asked.

"Yeah, how'd you do it?"

"Reflex mostly." That was coming out a lot. I lifted my foot off of them when I was sure they wouldn't bolt. The teen leaned down and I finally noted I had shaken them up pretty good. Falling flat on your ass on hard concrete will do that to a person. He fished around in all the pockets, I watched him closely. He fished, and finally stopped. I could imagine that his fingers had brushed over what he was looking for. I saw his face soften into relief and it was strange. He grasped whatever the hell it was and stood with it clasped in his fist for a moment, before holding it up.

It was gold and small. Jagged and seemingly familiar. I felt a chill rise in me at the sight of it, before it vanished out of site in his fist and he grinned widely.

"Nobody ever gets away from Joey Wheeler!" He says and laughs while grinning. The first word that comes to mind is this: idiot. Yet, I say nothing, because it is useless getting into fights and argument over something so trivial. He's done in a moment anyway and is looking at me.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." Yet I'm uneasy. Neither of us talk again, just sort of look at each other. I think he expected me to give him my name. I didn't do such a thing. It was awkward.

"So…I guess I'll see you around?" he asked, averting his eyes away from me to the sidewalk. I didn't.

"Sure."

He was gone. He went with a quick wave, saying something about having to return something and ran off. I expected that. Totally unnerved the kid. I waited until he was out of sight before looking back down the two men, laying there not moving. Probably unconscious. Didn't know I had that much power.

I went down on one knee; much like the kid did, and started checking the pockets. I found what I was looking for. Pulled the wallet out and flipped it open. I figure if the guy has the nerve to steal, then it wouldn't hurt to 'borrow' some money from him. Surprisingly he had a lot in bills. I took them, stuffed them in my pocket and left his license and credit cards. They'd only be a way for the cops to track me down. Dollar bills, unmarked, were the way to go if you're stealing. I've played enough games to figure that out.

I was putting his wallet back when something cold and metallic brushed against my hand eagerly. I blinked, and then smiled readily as I curled my fist around it and pulled it out. Bullet cartridge. I was a little surprised. If this was going to be a kid's game there probably shouldn't have been fire arms, but then that whole fighting scene I had survived through earlier was enough to say this wasn't a kid's game. Most likely for teen.

Searched around a little more, found two more clips, and finally the gun in the other side of the jacket. Figures. Probably the best way to protect yourself if the mussel of the pistol is too hot.

Still, I checked the clip in the gun. It had a black mussel and brown hand grip, a .45 probably. Found it empty. I sighed, knowing that was another couple of seconds wasted as I loaded the thing. I glanced at him a few times as I did so, trying to make sure he wouldn't wake up too quick.

When it was fully loaded I stuffed it into my belt, out of few, stood, and started walking, hands in pockets. They'd wake up eventually, and I wouldn't want to be around when they did.

Book Dragon: "Please Review."