This chapter is in honor of Krin, Child of Moonlight, Dekka, ilikethisstory, Snowy Fox, Evo-Gur1180, and Yakuza Princess. Thanx, this has given me a reason to go on.
Piled in a jumbled mess in a corner, her armor found its resting place, to be welded and revamped later. Stowing her boots next to the disheveled heap, Meya prepared to sleep in her lonely quarters. Slumping down on her hard military issued cot, she stared off into the distance while her hands absently cut themselves on her twin blades. Cold gunmetal black walls separated her bed from the rest of the barracks, leaving her alone to contemplate her greatest mission, to live. Covering the dark windowless walls like blisters on sunburn were her windows to her soul. Scraps of parchment crowded with pictures of torment and bloodshed, forever captured by her pen and pencil.
"I'm glad I set you in solitary."
"Sir!" she barked rising and saluting Erol standing in her doorway.
"At ease." he spoke looking nonchalantly at her artwork, appreciating that he had caged her. Crouching back on her cot, Meya watched him through cold glassy dead eyes.
"I'm here to brief you on your next mission."
"Sir," she barked still watching him. "Brief me on the mission, sir!"
"Good." he smiled, his mutilated face twisting into a haunting look. "You will be leading this one alone. This is your field soldier, small weapons and hand to hand combat, you are the best for this one."
"Sir, yes sir!" she snarled at him, he hardly noticed her hostility. Still smiling his nasty smile, he went on.
"You will infiltrate the palace and commence Operation Red Wolf, do you understand?"
"Sir, yes sir!" she barked remembering the Intel on the operation.
"Good, good. Head out at 0500. Use one of the access towers and cross the bridge to the palace, Jak did it so could you. Good luck soldier." he concluded, bristling at Jak's name.
"Sir, yes sir!" she snarled standing and saluting.
"At ease. Now, enjoy your leave." he spoke turning in the doorway. "One more thing," Grabbing her by the arm, he drew her close to him. "You fought well today."
Bringing his rough lips to hers, he held her fast in a semi passionate kiss. Closing her eyes, she brought her hand to one of her bone blades. In one quick movement, Erol lay sprawled unconscious at her feet, a large welt protruding from his hair.
"Thank you sir. Next time you touch me, I'll have you Court Marshaled." she growled spitting his saliva from her mouth whipping her lips on the back of her sleeve. Lifting his bulky armored form with ease, she launched him from her steel walled room out into the barracks.
"Whoa! The Commander's got it bad for Earless!" one of the other soldiers laughed with his comrades. Meya smiled as Erol groaned slowly becoming conscious. Grabbing her dented armor, she left the barracks in the fortress' heart to the machine shop on the lower floor.
Filled with the sounds of grinding metal and the smell of sulfur, her mind flooded with ecstasy as the metal shavings on the floor punctured her soft feet. Striding gracefully to a vacant workbench, armed with torch and mallet, she began her work. After a few hours, her standard armor became her own design. Lighter and more feminine looking and covered in places with spikes, it was truly hers. Shaping a sharp piece of heavy sheet metal, she had the design for her helmet. Finally, taking her prized possession from beneath her shirt, she had been saving it for months. Erol's racing mask. Adding it and steel spikes she felt it was nearly done. Covering her new wardrobe in black paint, the only red showing was the eyes of the mask. Putting the helmet on, she saw what he saw, a bloody world of crimson twilight. Letting the spray paint dry, she guarded her work like a jealous mother. Placing the black armor in an empty scrap metal bag, she hauled it carefully back to her quarters.
"Almost time." she thought in the darkness of the room. "Time to be." Concealed in darkness, she was no longer one of the Krimzon Guard, she had become a Assassin of Darkness.
Piled in a jumbled mess in a corner, her armor found its resting place, to be welded and revamped later. Stowing her boots next to the disheveled heap, Meya prepared to sleep in her lonely quarters. Slumping down on her hard military issued cot, she stared off into the distance while her hands absently cut themselves on her twin blades. Cold gunmetal black walls separated her bed from the rest of the barracks, leaving her alone to contemplate her greatest mission, to live. Covering the dark windowless walls like blisters on sunburn were her windows to her soul. Scraps of parchment crowded with pictures of torment and bloodshed, forever captured by her pen and pencil.
"I'm glad I set you in solitary."
"Sir!" she barked rising and saluting Erol standing in her doorway.
"At ease." he spoke looking nonchalantly at her artwork, appreciating that he had caged her. Crouching back on her cot, Meya watched him through cold glassy dead eyes.
"I'm here to brief you on your next mission."
"Sir," she barked still watching him. "Brief me on the mission, sir!"
"Good." he smiled, his mutilated face twisting into a haunting look. "You will be leading this one alone. This is your field soldier, small weapons and hand to hand combat, you are the best for this one."
"Sir, yes sir!" she snarled at him, he hardly noticed her hostility. Still smiling his nasty smile, he went on.
"You will infiltrate the palace and commence Operation Red Wolf, do you understand?"
"Sir, yes sir!" she barked remembering the Intel on the operation.
"Good, good. Head out at 0500. Use one of the access towers and cross the bridge to the palace, Jak did it so could you. Good luck soldier." he concluded, bristling at Jak's name.
"Sir, yes sir!" she snarled standing and saluting.
"At ease. Now, enjoy your leave." he spoke turning in the doorway. "One more thing," Grabbing her by the arm, he drew her close to him. "You fought well today."
Bringing his rough lips to hers, he held her fast in a semi passionate kiss. Closing her eyes, she brought her hand to one of her bone blades. In one quick movement, Erol lay sprawled unconscious at her feet, a large welt protruding from his hair.
"Thank you sir. Next time you touch me, I'll have you Court Marshaled." she growled spitting his saliva from her mouth whipping her lips on the back of her sleeve. Lifting his bulky armored form with ease, she launched him from her steel walled room out into the barracks.
"Whoa! The Commander's got it bad for Earless!" one of the other soldiers laughed with his comrades. Meya smiled as Erol groaned slowly becoming conscious. Grabbing her dented armor, she left the barracks in the fortress' heart to the machine shop on the lower floor.
Filled with the sounds of grinding metal and the smell of sulfur, her mind flooded with ecstasy as the metal shavings on the floor punctured her soft feet. Striding gracefully to a vacant workbench, armed with torch and mallet, she began her work. After a few hours, her standard armor became her own design. Lighter and more feminine looking and covered in places with spikes, it was truly hers. Shaping a sharp piece of heavy sheet metal, she had the design for her helmet. Finally, taking her prized possession from beneath her shirt, she had been saving it for months. Erol's racing mask. Adding it and steel spikes she felt it was nearly done. Covering her new wardrobe in black paint, the only red showing was the eyes of the mask. Putting the helmet on, she saw what he saw, a bloody world of crimson twilight. Letting the spray paint dry, she guarded her work like a jealous mother. Placing the black armor in an empty scrap metal bag, she hauled it carefully back to her quarters.
"Almost time." she thought in the darkness of the room. "Time to be." Concealed in darkness, she was no longer one of the Krimzon Guard, she had become a Assassin of Darkness.