When consciousness graced Gabriella again, the I.V from earlier had been ripped out, a hasty bandage barely covering the wound haphazardly taped to her hand. Her body was dressed, her hair painstakingly pulled back. Moving her arm, she was momentarily alarmed at the incredible weight it seemed to possess. With a ruptured moan, her lips gently fell agape. Pausing a moment to lick her dry, aching lips Gabriella tried a second time to activate her vocal cords. With one eye, then the other slowly opening, she could make out the blurriest of shapes.
Musing silently, her vision seemed to dance – almost blizzard like. It reminded her of a rather extravagant Blizzaga spell; with the shards of ice and snow swirling endlessly about. Now these snowy images held no wonder nor awe for her, merely indicating that the drugs used to sedate her was slowly being absorbed by her body. It took several minutes for her to recognize the roof of the van. Several more minutes to realize the grooves in the floor were pinching her exposed skin, and several more minutes for the redheaded girl to realize the entire vehicle had lurched to a stop. Gradually Gabriella began to feel her body, her legs bent unnaturally, shifted by traveling, and her arms splayed above her head. Unprepared for the doors to fly open, the girl winced as the harsh underground parking lights flooded the van.
A hiss emitting through her teeth, she was roughly silenced as her legs were torn out from under her, the girl's entire body following the strong movement, and landing seconds later on the rough concrete. Moaning and rolling onto her stomach, Gabriella slowly pushed herself to her knees. Resting there on her hands and knees, the girl couldn't resist the immediate and nonnegotiable urge to be sick. As her stomach forced out the bile containing medication after medication, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a single red silk handkerchief fall to the ground. And upon hearing That voice, she nearly bit her bottom lip into bleeding.
"Clean her up and get her inside." Came the command before she saw those painstakingly shinny oxford's marching towards the entrance to the labyrinth of hallways and offices. As she felt the handkerchief touch her chin, she leveraged her weight onto one arm, the other snatching the fabric from the other man's hand. "By Hyne I can do it myself." She hissed, spiting harshly into the silk fabric, taking heed not to leave it in a condition where it could be reused. A small victory, but a victory in the least.
Using the side of the van to force her body into a balanceable, standing position, she dropped the red silk into the pile of bile, and stepped forcibly on it. "Bastard." Finding no solstice in the eyes of the man watching her, her gaze became directed immediately before her, her jaw line drifting upwards in a silent defiance of the blow to her pride.
She bit down on her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Forcing open the doors, similar bland white lights blared above her and her 'escort', the boring white wash walls leading only from one hallway to the next. It often took new employee's weeks to find their way around. Obviously, the man at her side was one of them. Rolling her eyes nearly to the back of her head, the redheaded girl snorted indignantly. "It's this way."
Now leading the man towards her own quarters, her hand gripped the railing to keep from slipping all the way down the steep cement steps. "Watch your step." She murmured, as she shoved the broken bottle away from the steps. Obviously there had been a brawl, and with another huff, it was also obvious that Gabriella was sore that she missed it.
Here on the bottom floor, the lights were significantly dimmer, as if someone had forgotten to replace 60 of the bulbs used to light the corridors. Some flickered on and off, never finding a happy medium, and the others either blared full blast, or not at all. And as her slender fingertips landed on the cool door knob of her room, a light touch on the shoulder set her body into a momentary tremble. And the man's voice was almost sympathetic. "You really shouldn't make him that angry…It's a miracle you're not dead."
Refusing to qualify the statement with an answer, she merely shrugged the light hand off her body, tossing a petrifying glare over her shoulder. She decided then that she would give him 3 weeks, 4 days, in the evening – before he either mysteriously disappeared, or ran.
Slamming the door behind her, she flicked on the small switch on her right side. "Come on…" She whispered, as she heard the electricity humming above her, and the machine above her finally flickered to a dim light.
Locking the weak door behind her, the redhead quickly dove to her knees, her hands searching beneath the makeshift bed for something of immediate value. Grasping her hands about a roll of duct tape, the girl slid back into sitting position, sitting on her feet. Pausing there on the floor, Gabby saw the skittering of 3 cockroaches, and refused to open her eyes until the sound of their traveling had faded into a comfortable, a safe silence. Pulling herself up, she sat on the disheveled mattress. Picking up a small mirror from her bedside table, she surveyed the damages, and the new additions.
A scowl fell on her lips as she saw the curves in her body changing, becoming more woman like, developing into something Gabriella was not entirely ready to be. Not yet. Not here. She saw how they were treated, and what happened to them.
Finding the dog eared corner of the tape, a foul ripping sound enveloped the silence of the room as the sound of the sticky, duct tape like material was ripped from the roll. Slowly removing her shirt, the girl – more readily a young woman began the tediously long process of taping down the new growths on her chest. When she had bound her chest and placed the loose shirt over top of her again, it seemed that her age dwindled suddenly, loosing several years off her appearance. Stowing the material under her bed once more, she made sure it was not visible from the door.
Taking a second look in the mirror, she was suddenly very relieved. Running her fingertips along her hair, she realized that it had been tightly French braided, up and away from her face. The two braids from each side of her head were tightly woven, commingling into one long braid down her back. Vaguely wondering who had taken the time to style her hair, the redhead was greatly perplexed, and even more greatly troubled.
The images of some stranger with their fingers intertwined in her hair simply unsettled her.
Casting her eyes about the dingy room a second time, Gabriella realized that her clock had been removed. Strange…but she reasoned it had disappeared along with all her sharp objects. That stunt in the bathroom would not easily be forgotten, and certainly not ignored.
Kneeling on the floor, her hands searched along the splintering wood for two smooth spots. Placing both palms on them, she eased her shoulders squarely over top of them. Pushing her feet out, so they rested against the wall, she began to pass the time.
1 pushup
2 Pushups
3 Pushups
54 Pushups.
And so she would continue until the sweat rolled into her eyes, and stung her skin. With her stomach muscles quivering, she would lie on the ground, the sweat cooling and evaporating off her body. Then she would roll onto her back, and stare up at the flickering light, wondering how electricity worked, how that one bent nail on the upper left quadrant of the roof would always attract her attention, and how long it would be until she would take another life.
With every kill, Gabriella was hit with a strange sort of euphoria. That burst of adrenaline surged through her brain, making her sight waver, and for a moment – she felt a tingling along her arms and face. Watching the light leave their eyes, or the breath escape their lips, Gabriella felt almost empowered. She had no control over her own life, but in that last moment of her mark's existence, she controlled the entirety of their lives. She took it away.
As her eyes rolled up towards the light, she focused on the swells of intensity as it flickered back and forth from the dead. There would be darkness, then a burst of life, of light. Dozing back into a relaxed state of nothingness, Gabriella forgot the aching in her limbs, the sting of the cold air against her raw scraped skin, and the taste of her own bile on her lips. The weight of the silence and momentary darkness pressed down on her chest, smoothing across her in a smothering wave of release.
Before the incessant chirping of Sir William Tell exploded through the silence.
Fumbling towards the dresser, she found her cell phone. Clicking the talk button, she merely held it to her ear. The voice on the other line wasted no time on pleasantries.
"Meet me in the weapon shed and we will go over your briefing."
There was a pause before the voice continued.
"You got lucky on that one Thali…I wouldn't suggest trying it again."
The girl snorted before retorting back.
"Lucky? I wouldn't go as far to say that. After all I'm back here."
"For the love of Hyne girl, just get your ass out here, and lets go for a kill."
"Not like I have a choice."
"You know you love it baby, it'll make you feel better."
The voice sounded sincere in a sick sort of way, but was not dignified with a response. Clicking the phone shut, she tossed the phone down in disgust. But some where deep down, she craved that feeling of adrenaline. Clicking the door closed behind her as she darted down the darkening hallway, she savored the moment of stale air rushing past her ears, allowing one last day dream to cross before her eyes.
Where the peeling wall paper became stray branches off the trees, the moldy smelly carpet reeked of rainfall and fresh dirt, even on her pale face she could imagine the rays of sunshine cascading through the canopy of the trees, shadows and light over and over again, until she reached the stairs. Hesitating on the first step, Gabriella Thalione Meleficare began the climb towards the source of the phone call. It was time to go to work.
