ilia (2014-06-10 05:26:30)

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It was a cold, empty night. Even the few stars scattered sparsely overhead couldn't provide enough light to see by. But perhaps it was those nights that he liked most; being alone to prowl the vacant streets, accompanied by nothing but the icy cold wind and his own lanky shadows cast across the alleyway. Occasionally a bark from some stray dog in the distance would echo along the narrow alleys but otherwise, all else was silent.

He still felt uneasy though about wandering the streets and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He shouldn't be out in the open like that. At any moment the sirens would come screaming down from the streets behind him. Gunshots would follow, and death... always death.

Shuddering from both the memory and the cold, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept walking. There was still blood on his shirt; dark pools that splattered against the faded black fabric. A few rusty streaks ran down his arms to disappear with his hands into his jacket pockets, but it wasn't his own blood.

No, it was the blood of yet another innocent victim. Another person that he didn't know the name of and never would. It wasn't his responsibility to know. It was just his job to hunt them down and eliminate them before they could get in the way. That was his role. He was a tool, a broken twisted tool, for everyone to use. And he let himself be that way. What more was there to live for?

Wanting to get away from his own pointless thoughts, he turned down another alleyway and started running. His shoes pounded loudly against the pavement, enough to make drumming footsteps reverberate along the street. The shadows had grown now in the shelter of the tall dilapidated buildings and he purposely kept to the pools of darkness. With his black hair and dark clothing, it'd be impossible for anyone else to see him; but no doubt they would still find a way.

They had been hunting him since the night before, those demons. They were fast and discrete and no matter how hard he tried to evade them, they kept following. He had only a faint idea of who might have enlisted them, and he didn't like the thought. But if he couldn't kill them, they'd only kill him first. They couldn't be far behind.

He rested his hand against the comfortable weight of his knife in his jacket. It may not have been the gun he craved, but it was better than nothing. Then he darted out into the open, leaping onto a dumpster and turning to quickly scale the wall of the building. Someone shouted in the streets below, but he didn't stop.

The moment he pulled himself up onto the crumbling roof, he started running. Rain was beginning to fall hard and fast to the ground below. When exactly the cover of clouds had formed overhead, he didn't know, but he was thankful for the murky darkness they provided.

The pan-tiles of the roofs were becoming dangerously slick, forcing him to slow down every few feet to keep from slipping.

A sudden brightness exploded behind him, making him lunge across the gap between two buildings. He landed on the roof tiles with such force that he tumbled forward. The tiles gave out beneath him. Wind rushed past him as he slid down the roof, followed by an explosion of gunshots. Searing pain shot up his arm suddenly and he cried out in pain. Then abruptly he was falling to the ground below in a cascade of ceramic tiles.

"Where'd he go!?" Footsteps thundered on the roof above but he ducked hurriedly into the abandoned building. Judging by the flurry of shouting that followed, they hadn't seen him. Good.

His arm was burning and when he pulled back his hand from the spot, gleaming crimson stained his fingers. "Damn," he hissed before heading further into the room. There was a passage he could use to reach his own hideout. It couldn't be too hard. Wincing from the pain in his arm, he pulled aside a large, rickety bookcase to reveal the small hole beyond.

Tiles clatter to the pavement outside and immediately he darted into the crevice. He needed to keep moving, and fast!
The tunnel was so dark and full of so many labyrinths of passageways that he found himself doubting the other two could get inside, but that didn't stop him from practically running down the tunnel. His back ached from being bent at such an odd angle. But he wasn't about to stop now.

There was a small grate up ahead. He kicked it open, ignoring the loud bang the metal made as the bars slammed against the stone. When he pushed through, it was to find himself in another small alleyway. This one looked no different than the one he had been in before, however he knew where he was going.

Closing the grate behind him, he started running again, dashing across several different streets before finally reaching a dilapidated building. The walls and windows were boarded up in several places and iron bars had been criss-crossed across the window-frames and door. It may have been rundown, not to mention lost in the middle of the city slums, but this place was safe. No one would be getting in unless he wanted them to.

He grasped the door handle firmly, yet didn't open it at first. It needed time to register who had grabbed it; otherwise he could end up roasted to a crisp. Only when he heard a faint click from inside did he pull the door open. He wasted no time closing the door with a sharp snap behind him. His only thoughts were to hurry through the dark, clustered room in search of his weapon.

A desk stacked with high-tech equipment and computers was the only light in the room, and it turned everything a strange glowing shade of blue.

He practically tripped over a box of papers in his mad rush to the back of the room. Instead he settled on cursing mildly at it. A bed, well worn from years of use, leaned against the wall; while beside it stood a feeble table supporting a flashing clock. The numbers on it had read 12:00 for longer than he could remember.
Skillfully ducking down and ignoring the pain in his arm, he pulled loose his gun from the compartment sealed into the underside of the table.

He knew the 45 cal handgun desperately needed to be reloaded but there was not enough time or ammo for that now. He'd have to make due with the few bullets that remained.

Moving stealthily back through the mess and litters of paper, he crouched down next to his desk. It wouldn't be much longer now. They were fast, a lot faster than he wanted to give them credit for.

Even before he had the chance to get comfortable, there was a loud bang on the door, followed by a pair of angry voices. He c0cked back his gun and crept forward.

"Open this damn door before we're forced to break it down for you!"

He laughed sourly. They couldn't be serious. When several minutes passed without him answering, the man cursed loudly. The sudden bang of gunshots and glass breaking ensued.
He ducked quickly as glass sailed overhead to embedded itself in the wall behind him. Several large pieces shattered before him at his knees and across the floor.

"No! No Grimrick! Stop it!" A girl screamed.

He froze. He knew that voice, but... it.. couldn't be. It had been so long...

"Please, I'll speak to him."

He had lept to his feet in an instant. His hand was on the handle of the door before he could even stop himself, but for some reason, he didn't open it. They were trying to kill him. Why should he risk this?

A very faint knock interrupted his thoughts. "Please Krim... open the door. I don't want Grimrick to hurt you, and that's what he'll do if you refuse..."

Krim drew in his breath and carefully cracked open the door. His gun still remained firmly in his hand.
There she was, exactly as he had remembered her from four years ago. Long golden hair flowed down her back like a waterfall when she lowered her cloak hood. There was nothing but sorrow in her bright blue eyes.
"You still don't trust me after all this time?" She nodded to the gun but otherwise didn't move.

He grunted before gesturing her inside. "But your friend can stay out here." He slammed the door in Grimrick's face, just to make sure that the @ss had gotten the message. Then he had to face her, even though his heart said otherwise.
"What are you doing here Serena? If you've come to kill me, you will die, and if you're trying to persuade me to surrender, you're wasting your time."

She gave him a watery smile before backing up to sit on the edge of the desk when he pointed his gun at her. The faintest hint of a pure white dress showed from beneath her cloak. "You're not wrong about me being here to kill you. That was my mission after all."
He cursed under his breath, but she ignored him. "Krim, I HAVE to kill you, but only if you refuse my offer to change sides."

Change sides!? Had she lost her mind. He aimed the gun at her forehead, making her tremble slightly. "You've lost your mind Serena. I can't just change sides. I can't work for what you and that bast@rd outside work for. No.." He laughed hollowly. "I'm a part of this darkness now. If I switch sides, those who I work for will hunt me down and kill me. My life is already enough hell without having to look over my shoulder ever second of the rest of my days. Besides.." And he felt some guilt for how his voice shook. "I'm broken now. There is too much evil done at my hands for me to ever mend that."

Why was she looking at him so sympathetically? Damn that girl.
"Krim..." She began, and got slowly to her feet. She gasped as he moved the gun again to her forehead. "Please listen to me. We'll help you. We're already working to find these people and put a stop to their crimes. You could help and at the same time, we'd be able to protect you. You don't have to live like this.." She was testing him with every slow step she took forward. Krim was tempted to shoot, but he didn't.. a small hope was surfacing in him.

"You know it's not that easy to clean my slate. I've killed people, innocent people, and I've done many things that were much worse." He flinched when she stopped inches from him, but she made no move to attack.

"But if you do this, you'll be able to save so many more. We'd be able to put a stop to their crimes once and for all. Please Krim, you must believe me. Even if you can't believe me now.. think back to when we were together and believe me for the sake of everything we once shared."

He stared at her. She still remembered that after all that time? She still cared about him? Krim studied her face, remembering the way she had smiled at him one night under a sea of stars. The moonlight had turned her hair silver and there was a light in her eyes he had never seen before. He didn't even need to show her the ring he had gotten to know her answer. How had things fallen so deeply apart?

Her hand was on his arm before he had even realized she had moved. "Krim? I know what you're thinking about yourself now, but remember, you don't have to live this way. It's a choice. Even if you look at yourself as just some broken tool for them to use, remember you still have so many other uses left in you. You can be good, you don't have to do this."

For a long moment he stared at her hand on his arm, searching for the words to speak. "If.. you truly believe there is something left in me, then... I will try. I'll do what it takes to repent for the sins that I have done. Not just for your sake, but for the sake of all those who's lives are on the line."

She surprised him completely by flinging her arms around his neck and crying. Krim wasn't entirely sure of what she was sobbing into his shoulder but he knew he heard the words "thank you."
Serena was right, he didn't have to live this way, he was free to make his own choices. And if the darkness wanted to drag him back into hell, then he would fight that with everything he had. There was still some good in him, and he would prove it to them all.

When she finally pulled away, there were shinning tears in her eyes. She had truly waited a long time for him to come back to her. "Then you will come with me and fight? You will protect this world and these people?"

For the first time in many years, Krim actually smiled. "Yes," he agreed and handed her his gun. "You know me.. When do we get started?"

All Serena could do was drag him from the building, trying to hide her tears of relief.
Even if they were broken, nothing would stop them from making a difference. Their journey was just getting started...

This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2014-06-12 14:30:22

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ilia (2014-06-11 06:21:03)

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This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2014-06-11 13:40:33

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WYoshiX2 (2014-06-12 01:05:52)

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Awesome story, ilia!

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ilia (2014-06-12 07:24:01)

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This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2014-06-12 14:31:54

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