Traces. Chapter 3: Onion
Disclaimer: "No no no. Hoagie dies and THEN he becomes immortal!" See, see why I can't own the KND?
Author note: I'd like to give my immense gratitude to the person who told me I had misspelled Shaunie's name, thank you very very much! I replaced/fixed it in time, before it got any worse. Also eduardoaf/or orosman, cant be sure... Made this AWESOME vid, it kind of what Inspired me to keep writing I tell you lot! h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v 5 L M C 3 Q r W m C 4 & s e a r c h k n d (remove the spaces and you're there... I know, long but worth it) NO; NOT MINE REMEMBER NOT MINE!
((One word- Kelly Osborne))I'm usually fearless but I was starting to get a little unsure. 'He's gonna kill me, Oh Jesus Christ he's gona kill me! I've got to get OUT of here!' I thought. "Can't we talk about this!" I ask him. I was not about to beg for my life... not yet... not exactly... well not IMMEDATELY...
"Sorry kid, end of the road for you, and good riddance" He pointed my crayon pistol at my forehead. You might be thinking; crayons, hah, what a joke, but you weren't in that room with Mushi Sanban; you didn't see what I saw, these babies can go through wooden doors.
Now that I think of it, NOW I'm going to beg for my life: "Please don't kill me!" Literally begging feels bad especially when you hear the loud click of the trigger and the little zooming sounds the crayons make leaving the pistol. My first instinct was of fear and then I just ducked to the seat. I was still alive, I'm probably injured I can't tell. There are crayons flying everywhere. Now this here didn't make sense. There are crayons and chewy pellets darting INTO the car, not out... 'Wait a minute' I thought. 'The Kids Next Door!' I took back my pistol which they dropped to duck and defend themselves and hit one of the guys with it, the other guy was out cold so that was the door I used to open and from behind which I shielded myself.
I took a look around, after a few minutes of this, it was all clear. I had a signal from one of the squad-leaders and I followed it to them.
"Codename and sector!" He told me unsure. Who could blame him, I just got down from Mr. Boss's car. I probably reek of half-rotten onion, nice and harmless on the outside but a spoiled informant 'on the inside'.
"Numbuh Two, two by four technology expert and Air superiority, sector V." I identify myself. His expression flashes something I didn't like. 'Damn you, Fanny, What'd you put me into THIS time!' I think As I half turn to run, but the guy catches me first and hand-cuffs me in Taffy, the sticky stuff will probably be impossible to get out of, so I don't take my chances trying. I definitely have this foul onion stench, cause he slams me into the back of a transport vessel with the rest of the criminals, having Mr. Boss sit two feet from me now being the least of my worries.
I'm more worried about the interview I'll have to endure. The KND is known for being very tough; inhuman, if you will, on the criminals. I gulp at this. Numbuh four's stories on what Artic Prison is like completely resurface in my mind. The officers, He says, challenge the weather, and that's not a pretty thought to have in the coldest prison in the world… 'Relax Hoagie' I tell myself, 'You didn't do anything' I thought… I thought…