Miranda's Wrongful Experiment...(Featuring ~Cicilia~)

Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack…

The foot steps fell on the hard, broken concreate with a steady rhythm, like that of a clock, the stride seemed to constantly go back and forth, never once missing a beat. The steady footfalls belonged to a rather…strange woman.

It was a rather sunny day, with temperatures rising rather high for the time of year, and yet she wore a full suit with only a somewhat short skirt. Her long white hair was tied in a braid, leaving it to trail behind her as she continued on her way towards her destination. Her clean, professional look and powerfully confident stride made it seem like she owned the entire world, not even her posture was slacking, her full height helping her stand out in what was already a very unassuming sidewalk. No one could possibly guess what the woman’s true motives were, or the cruel things she had done to get where she was now.

That woman, who acted more like a cold, ruthless machine rather than a breathing, caring human was Miranda Blair. Despite the heat and the weight of her suit, she had no signs of sweat on any part of her pale skin and only one cold, red eye peeked out into the world, the other hidden by her long bangs. There was no evidence to suggest she had come in a vehicle, and yet the idea she was walking around in such heat without sweating in such a heavy top seemed ridiculous. How did she stay cool under there? Or was she actually warm, and masterfully concealing her discomfort from the small audience whom gazed at her.

She came up on a building, and did not decelerate her pace. The way she approached the door, many of the onlookers thought it was the strange woman’s home, like she knew the area intimately…but why had no one seen her before?

The reason became evident the second she stopped at the door…and lightly knocked on it with a rather gentle rhythm...

--

Outfit:

Her knuckles made a curt, rough sound against the doorway. She could hear the noise vibrate inside the home, and her sharp eye caught the peep hole that was cleverly hidden not directly in the door, but rather in the door frame, a place many would never suspect while being angled just perfectly to see whomever stood outside.

“Excuse me! Is this the residence of a Ms. Cicilia De’Reignhardt?” Miranda voice was…odd, to her ears. For so long she had heard it through her mask’s speakers it was now alien to hear it without static or an electrical twinge, even for her.

She made sure to take a step back, trying to perfectly align herself with the peep hole’s line of sight and not crowd the doorway. Her hands were respectively clasped in front of her to show she hid nothing behind her back, and the way she avoided eye contact with the peephole made it seem like she was ignorant of its existence.

“My name is Ms. Blair…I’m very sorry to trouble you at this time, but I believe you ran into an employee of mine not so long ago. I need to speak with you and I think it is…rather urgent.”

Despite her words, her tone was quiet, with hardly any urgency inflicted on it. Miranda did not seem nervous, nor worried. The way she stood in front of the door, it was as if she had been invited over. As she waited, the only part of her body that seemed to move was her head, slowly scanning the area like a camera does when it checks to insure an areas safety.

Cicilia was flopped out on the couch after a long and exhausting training match at the gym between her and Sayumi, the outcome with her girlfriend getting the better of her. It was a close one, both of them doing their best but while the juggernaut completely overwhelmed her partner in raw power and durability, Sayumi's superior speed and MUCH greater experience in holds and grapples stole her the win. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt her pride to know that she'd been beaten by her lover... In fact, it made her content to know she was as strong as she was! Made Sayumi even more attractive in her eyes...

Unfortunately, what she held in her arms this afternoon was not her girlfriend, but a pillow as she tried to take a nap... Sayumi had gone out to the store, leaving her behind. It wasn't like Cicilia didn't want to go... But she was REALLY tired after that long match... and the things they did after. She was exhausted... and content. She could feel herself drifting away on the black sea of unconsciousness...

UNTIL someone began knocking on the door!

...Damn it...

"...Sayumi...?" She mumbled, looking over the arm of the chair, towards their apartment door. More knocking... She had a key so... couldn't be her... Did they order something? Cicilia hadn't been on amazon since... well... forever and Sayumi... hadn't either...? She didn't know everything her partner did at all times so maybe it was a package.

Whatever... She could grab it and get back to sleep. rolling off the couch... and onto the floor, Cicilia peeled herself back up to her feet before lurching towards the door in utter sloth before pulling it open...

"...The hell are you...?" Cicilia yawned, clearly not having the patience for pleasantries. This woman had long white hair (strange for someone looking young enough), a suit and a skirt, apparently dressed for business. The German, meanwhile, was dressed in little more than her grey short-shorts and sports-bra, her heavy hoodie loosely hanging from her shoulders as she was WAY too lazy to take them off. It was almost hilarious the contrast... Would've made her snicker if she was watching from the third person.

Outfit:

Spoiler:

"Yeah...?" The German answered, running a hand through her long black hair as the woman asked if this was her address. "Who are you... and how do you know my name?" Probably a stupid question... She wrestled with it after all. Still, it wasn't every day random women dressed in professional attire came to your apartment...

That was usually a once-a-year thing...

Nevertheless, Cicilia rolled her eyes as the woman begged forgiveness for her impromptu visit, as if encouraging her to GET ON WITH IT already... And get on with it she did.

"Employee...? The hell are you talking about...?" By now, Cicilia had properly sobered up, but that didn't stop her from being any less respectful. "What's 'urgent?' Tell me. Now." She didn't like how this woman scanned her apartment over her shoulder, how she spoke without any sense of 'urgency' that she claimed the news she brought possessed. It sounded wrong... Smelled artificial... Cicilia had known fucking liars her entire god-damned life both here in japan and back home in Germany. She knew when something was wrong. She just... couldn't tell what...

She sure as hell wasn't letting this woman into her apartment, though. Not yet. She'd have to do a LOT better than that to get inside her safe-place.

If Cicilia thought her drunken disrespectful stupor would shake Miranda, she would be sadly mistaken. As a matter of fact, Miranda was used to taking this kind of aggressive abuse. The very few times she went out to meet someone in person, it was usually because she was meeting a superior from her darker line of work. People who got that high on the food chain in the dusty, dirty world of organized crime rarely had a good attitude, and if they did, they never used it on the scientist who always looked at everyone like they were simply numbers on paper. The woeful yet aggressive tone of a single, small, black haired woman whom had a plethora of family issues and only one person in the entire world she could call a friend/lover seemed to pass through a filter of indifference that pulled out the questions and the confused statements from the muck of hostility and caution.

The really sad part was, Miranda didn’t even need to put any real effort into finding any of this out. She could tell exactly what kind of upbringing the German had just by viewing the way she held herself...and how she acted. Cicilia’s apartment spoke volumes about her life style, and her current attire certainly added to that information…it was just a matter of knowing how to look at a specimen.

She was hardly wearing anything, but what she did have on was rather revealing. The jacket she wore was heavy, but seemingly tossed on without a second thought, hanging loosely on her shoulders without a care. Yet despite the jacket’s misuse, young Cicilia was still sweating, or at least had been. Her slightly matted hair, and the smell that wafted out of the apartment attested to that. There was a hint of something else that was buried in the odor…it was strangely sweet, but still had an acute and unique punch that Miranda would have surely missed if she had her usual respirator on.

Ah…her and her lover must have just copulated.

What did Miranda have to back that hypothesis?  Cicilia was clearly drunk and aggressive, yet she seemed to sober up rather quickly when speaking with Miranda…perhaps the adrenaline and pheromones were helping her burn away her drunken fog? She had also heard Cicilia rustle around inside after the first few knocks. There was a heavy thunk inside…like someone rolling off a couch after a nap, which many seemed to do after sex. Cicilia also made a noise…something with three syllables, with the last two being a higher pitch syllable. Perhaps the name of her lover?

Oh, and undergarments that surely did not belong to the tomboy that was Cicilia were resting on a table almost out of view of the doorway.

It was then Cicilia, as short as she was compared to Miranda and her heels, moved to block Miranda’s eye line of her apartment…as well as the entryway. That was fine with Miranda. She didn’t want to sit on a couch that may have had something so “personal” all over them.

Amazingly, she made all of these assumptions and connections without moving a single muscle in her face. It was as flat and uninterested as when Cicilia opened the door, threw her toxic aggression in her face, and proceeded to bark questions and orders at her like an alpha dog of the pack.

And Miranda obliged.

“I suppose it is better to refer to her as an ex-employee now. Do you recall meeting a woman named Kassidy at the gym a few days prior?” Miranda tilted her head slightly, letting the question settle, “Because she certainly remembers you…The things she said were some of the most vile and vicious things I ever heard. I never though such things were even possible to-“

Miranda’s head suddenly whipped around, as if listening for something…sirens…of in the distance…moving away.

“Well, needless to say she was not very fond of you. In fact, whatever you did to her shook her up enough to steal your information…that is how I knew where to find you. She has your address…but you might already know that.” Her visible red eye met with Cicilia’s, more like a laser pointer then an eye, “I’m very sorry. In a way this was all my fault. Had I looked deeper into her background, watched her more carefully, or simply never asked her to look for volunteers for a program I wished to begin, this never would have happened. Now I may have put you, and the one you love at great risk.”

Miranda paused, as if she was trying to collect herself. In reality, she was not sure how smart Cicilia actually was, and did not want to overload her with information.

“I think…I think Kassidy might be targeting you sometime soon, but for now she is after someone else…some “trainer” or some other person she met at the gym. I felt responsible, so I paid for the poor girl’s medical bills, but Kassidy somehow tracked my payment to her hospital. I…was too late to help her. I hope I’m not too late to help you…”

"Kassidy...?" Cicilia growled, that name sparking flames in her heart as a match would upon gasoline. That psychotic bitch... She might've not left AS MUCH of an impression as some of the others given how utterly popular it was becoming to be FUCKING INSANE but she remembered how she beat the face of that poor woman in with her boot... then how she fled like a coward when Cicilia transformed into the instrument of her karma. Yes... she remembered her... a blight upon this home, that name. The Juggernaut couldn't possibly care any less about what alleged "names" she had been called behind her back, a worthless maneuver from someone she did not respect. After being beaten to near death, Cicilia had come to realize that true pain could never really be inflicted with such low-brow and callous attacks such as name-calling... Indeed, it was but a minor annoyance, something the German would've actually been curious to hear about... were the circumstances different.

This "Ms. Blair" seemed to know much about her former employee's illegal activities, much to the German's suspicion, what with her ID being stolen despite the Juggernaut still having it in her possession. Either Kassidy was fucking stupid on top of being crazy, showing the boxer's ID to her supposed "boss" and that lead to her firing... or there was something else going on here... How would Blair have that information if Kassidy didn't supply it herself...?

...And boy was it tempting to throw this question in her face... There were several factors that stopped her, however. FIRST: her presence here. She knew where she lived... Obviously, that could've been obtained through Cicilia's copied ID but even so, that brought up point 2: How did she obtain it? How does she know her former "employee" was going to come after her? Did Kassidy tell her to her face? Even pissed off and scared, nobody would ever say these things to their boss... unless they were comfortable doing so. Again, the woman was fired for it supposedly but... WHY would she just flaunt it in the first place? Something smelled off here... and it wasn't just Cicilia. She peered up into the woman's laser-like eye with dubious frustration, the temptation to just slam the door in her face growing stronger by the second.

...As if sensing the German's apprehension, Ms. Blare threw in one last little token of bait, mentioning off-hand that there was another Kassidy had targeted first...

"...No..." Cicilia muttered under her breath, her eyes widening. "No, she wouldn't... She didn't..." HOW!? HOW DID SHE GET THERE? ACCORDING TO THIS LADY SHE TRACKED HER PAYMENTS BUT... HOW DID SHE KNOW SHE WAS MAKING THEM!? HOW DID SHE GET A WEAPON INSIDE THE HOSPITAL!? SHE WAS TOO LATE TO HELP THAT WOMAN!? THE FUCK DID THAT MEAN!? HOW COULD SHE KNOW ABOUT IT THIS SOON AND NOT HAVE HELP FOR HER!? DID SHE CHOOSE TO INFORM CICILIA OF IT INSTEAD?????? Everything was wrong... Nothing added up... This... this had to be fake... it couldn't be REAL! From the way Blair informed her (not urgently either), Kassidy had just KILLED that innocent lady and now she was coming after her... Cicilia's blood turned to ice as she glanced back over her shoulder, feeling her skin crawling on her back...

...And then she mentioned Sayumi.

Granted, it wasn't by name and MAYBE she caught a match with them together... but she doubted it... Nothing inside that one could see from the door-frame would give it away that she HAD a partner! Something was incredibly.. INCREDIBLY wrong... It used to be when she was out... Now they were coming to her door... She couldn't let on that she knew anything, direct her anxiousness and fear into the fact that her life had effectively been put in danger...

"What can you do...?" Cicilia asked, ready to slam the damn door between them on a moment's notice. "You couldn't help that trainer."

It was said each and every person deals with grief differently. Some spend their time remembering the one they had lost, some grew angry the person was gone, blaming them for leaving them lone in the world. Others simply retreated into solitary to try and deal with their powerful emotions that often bubbled to the surface. Even if one was not close to the decease, the fact that someone a person once knew was now gone forever could seriously shake a person. It reminded others that they were mortal, and that time on this earth was limited, no matter who you were.

In the few minutes Miranda had met Cicilia, and the report Kassidy had given about the events at the gym, the scientist knew that this German basically wore her emotions on her shoulder. She was not afraid to let others know how she felt about something, especially if she thought it was wrong in some way. She had an incredibly fiery temper, and yet a strong moral focus, enough so that she would seem to fight for those who could not in some form or another. It was a rare combination of values and traits to see in someone, even rarer to see them in someone actually capable of upholding those values. Though she didn’t even know the poor girls name, Miranda expected some kind of reaction to spill out of the firebrand. To hear one’s savior was now dead because of there actions…well, it was not an everyday occurrence.

The German muttered a few things quietly. Some strange dribble that stumbled out of the Boxers confused mouth. On the outside, Miranda was giving Cicilia time to process what she had just said, letting her work through the painful news. On the inside, Miranda was simply saving her breath, watching and waiting. She did not get any pleasure from seeing Cicilia distraught, but she scanned every facial movement that flashed across her face. Miranda was amazingly subtle about it, one of the advantageous of a hardly changing expression.

And so, when Cicilia finally asked that one question, Miranda’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She could understand the logic behind Cicilia not wanting to whole heartedly trust Miranda, and why she would ask such a pointed question. It was a good question, a valuable question…

But Miranda did not hear the key question that should have been one of the most prudent, probing, and logical of them all. A question anyone should have asked when they found out someone they knew had passed.

How Exactly did they die?

Kassidy had apparently gotten to her…but then what? Self-preservation is human instinct, and knowing how a predator targeted previous prey could be imperative to survival, so upon learning her life was in danger, why did Cicilia not ask such a burning question even Miranda would ask?

It’s because she knows something. It’s the best, most logical answer…

“You are absolutely right, of course. By the time I learned what Kassidy was doing, it was already done. I tried to…Well, that was not your question, was it?” Miranda leaned in just a bit, in an attempt to physically show her investment towards Cicilia, “I’m sorry to say local authorities won’t help. It seems my ex-employee was rather careful in her planning…they don’t believe anything happened to that poor girl. So please, allow me to place a guard to watch your home, at least until the situation has passed. I have dug deep into their history, and their record showed no cause for alarm.”

Miranda moved towards the side, and gestured down towards a parking lot just down the street. A lone, black car was parked in the shade…though it was impossible to see who-if anyone-was in it.

“I am also sending some of my personnel to Ms. Kassidy’s usual hang outs but…they have come up empty. She seems to be in hiding, from what we can tell.” Miranda sighed heavily, running a hand quickly through her hair. She was good at hiding her discomfort from the heat, but it was still there. “But…there is something else. Its little more than a rumor, but…it may be important for your safety.”

Miranda reached into her suits breast pocket, and retrieved a small note pad, flipping it open and flipping through it rather nonchalantly. Finally, she found what she was looking for.

“Apparently…someone matching Ms. Kassidy’s description has been seen hanging around an old abandoned toy factory an hour or so away. I would send someone to check it out, but I’m sad to say it is private property, and they won’t let me or anyone in my employ step foot inside. Not without cause…”

The businesswoman closed the note pad and placed it back in her breast pocket. Her mechanical eyes were once again meeting the Germans burning orbs.

“If I may, I would ask you stay away from there. Just to be safe. I really am sorry for what happened to that young girl, Ms. Cicilia…please! Allow me to atone for my failure…by helping you as best as I can.”

Cicilia shook her head, her hands raising up to cover her face... This was some fucking dream... THIS COULDN'T HAVE BEEN HAPPENING! AN ABANDONED TOY FACTORY!? WHAT WAS THIS, SOME CRIME NOVEL? And what else...? This fucking stranger wanted to put her men outside her door, while her "former employee" was on the loose, hunting for her? Did she really think the German would just throw herself into her arms because she offered some vain mockery of SAFETY? Ms. Blair, if that was even her real name, assured her that there was no cause for alarm, seeming to completely contradict the justification of setting up people outside her door... people possibly armed and dangerous themselves. Cicilia looked over this woman and her shameless indifference, her concern as fabricated as her bullshit... Her rage gave her the clarity to see through it all, well refined anger far more controlled by her resolve to LIVE! There were several inconsistencies with this story that Cicilia simply didn't buy.

First: One doesn't simply control the police. How the living hell can someone control an entire station, let alone city-wide police (as Kassidy would have too if Miranda was even half the benevolent person she claimed to be. She would've checked more than one station)? What kind of cops just... say "no" to a charge of assault and potential homicide!? Unless she had a gun to each one of their heads when Miranda went to them... Cicilia could see nothing but bullshit. People didn't just say "fuck you" when someone's supposedly dying. It doesn't happen.

Second: If there's no threat, why would she need to place men around her fucking place!? Why tell her about it at all if she already had people on it, apparently on Kassidy's trail? If she's close... why even bother telling her, keeping her up to date? Why not just take care of it and leave her out of it?

Third: She mentioned a location. This might've worked on Cicilia when she was younger, more impulsive... But she has learned well from her psychopathic antagonists... If Miranda wished her to not go there, she would've kept it quiet. Saying "DON'T GO" was nothing more than a veiled command hoping to exploit the German's need for righteous vengeance... She even gave time-by-transportation to make it easier for Cicilia to figure out WHERE TO GO!

Fourth: Cicilia didn't believe those men Miranda gestured to were for her safety... they were there to make sure she went... If she did what Miranda was suggesting and stay here, she would be trapped and surrounded with nothing but what was in her apartment to defend herself.

Miranda wanted her to go... to fight Kassidy... or at least to walk into the trap that was meant for her at that fucking abandoned toy factory... This was a trick... and it might've gone undetected if Miranda just said a little less.

Cicilia looked up into Miranda's robotic red eyes, her expression suggesting intense exasperation... but also a twinge of knowingness too... she was letting her knew she knew the score... that there was nowhere for her to go but into the abyss... She was tempted to peel the skin off this woman's face with the most ugly, brutal, bloody insult she could hurl her way, the words already forming in her throat...

"...Whatever..." Was all that escaped, the boxer letting out a soft sigh instead... "Atone"... What bullshit. She thought to herself quietly. "Private property..." "Won't let her inside..." and yet, even with a killer in there, she would attempt to enter...

"...I don't even care. Just... leave." With that, she stepped back inside her apartment and slammed the door. The moment she was alone in her home again, a cold shiver washed over her, a hand clutching at the scarred side of her face as she rummaged around for a piece of paper... and a pen. Sitting herself down at the kitchen counter, the boxer would begin to write...

Sayumi...

The scientist would admit, a “killer” hiding in an old toy factor had a certain dramatic flare to it that may have appealed towards her more thematic employees. Kristy came to mind. The way she ran her mouth and spoke about things, she would have chomped at the bit to be a part of this experiment. Really, the toy factory was owned by her, under a different name of course. If Miranda had any need for additional personnel, she might have had her come along. The red head was always so much better at interacting with others then she was. That could have come in handy at this point.

Miranda really couldn’t help but feel there might have been a language barrier between her and the German. She reacted negatively to the words “No cause for alarm”…but she was referring towards her guards background check. It was enough for even the emotionless, cold and calculating Miranda to tilt her head quizzically. Was it not better to show she had learned from her mistakes? Or perhaps she reacted negatively towards the guards watching the door? It didn’t matter. Cicilia’s glare intensified upon hearing those words, her fiery stare meeting…a slightly confused, though still rather passive gaze.

My, what a rage that burns in this illogical, rude, little-

Miranda cut the thought down before her own emotions grew wild. The heat was getting under the suit, and Cicilia’s attitude was less than pleasant. It reminded Miranda of all of those people who would often undermine her and her work, talk down to her like she was just a dog meant to do the same tricks and nothing else. She wanted to act on her curiosities, but so often everyone stared at her like a monster. It grew old fast.

Luckily, Miranda had more than enough experience pushing her feelings down, even as they began to push more and more under the pressure.

Finally, Cicilia gave Miranda a look. A knowing look. The scientist simply gave her the same look she had given her before, though even Miranda’s eye was feigning ignorance, staring at her like she was simply a grieving girl. Miranda had been cold and matter of fact, but she tried to keep towards her role. Upon hearing the boxers heavy sigh, Miranda pushed the act. She began to move forward, attempting to seem compassionate, but it was like a machine trying to comfort someone.

“Please, Ms. Cicilia, if there is anything I can provide to help you, I want-“ Miranda was cut off in a rather cold response, with one simple request. She didn’t even get a chance to respond before the door slammed in her face, and a quiet *click* of a lock left her alone in the noonday heat.

“…Very well. If that is what you wish.”

Miranda turned and walked away, leaving the home of the boxer. After walking a few feet down the street, she made a sharp gesture with her hand, and the black car’s engine roared to life. It began to move, pulling out of the shade and moving to pull up beside her. Within seconds, Miranda was in the air-conditioned passenger seat, trying to cool down and push her anger away. The driver was one of her personal guards, Brooke. Her large, muscular frame seemed oddly comfortable in the car, her long purple haired contained under a baseball cap as she nervously sipped on a soda cup.

“So, uh…how did it go?”

“That isn’t any of your concern.”

“O-oh…uh, right. Your right…”

“Deliver me towards holding point C, then maintain surveillance on the subject for up to 48 hours. If she leaves, feel free to trail her. She is aware of your presence, so there should not be any trouble. Do not let her out of your sight, and report to me where ever she goes, and whoever she sees.”

“Um…okay, sure thing Miranda.” Brooke shifted gears, and began driving her passenger towards her destination, looking nervous that she may tick off her employer, “Hey Miranda. What do you want me to do if she doesn’t leave her house for two days?”

“Well then the experiment is a failure. In that case we must sterilize our equipment and possibly deal with the woman who lives inside that building…indirectly of course. I doubt it will come to that. She seems smart, but on the off chance that happens, I will let you know what comes next.”

Cicilia had already found the location Ms. Blair had referred to on her phone already, an ominous feeling washing over her... She couldn't believe she was going to do this... She couldn't BELIEVE she was going to be coerced into chasing down someone who wanted her dead... Sometimes, she wondered if stuff like this was her fault... these crazies coming to her door and manipulating her into positions she can't help but agree too... She wondered if it would be safer for Sayumi... if they broke up... and she were to escape the dangers that came with Cicilia's life and those that would infringe upon it.

She wondered as she slipped on a fresh shirt and pants and pulled her jacket on... if she could've done anything to avoid this... Perhaps if she hadn't gotten the attention of Kassidy in the gym or... just didn't go that day, Maybe if she just stayed home or went with Sayumi on her jogging routine... She stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket, looking back on the counter with the paper she had written... or tried to anyway. It was supposed to be a letter for her partner... in case she didn't come back... An explanation of sorts... Supposed to be.

No, instead, it read that she had been called to the AFW studio on some business... that she should be home later that night... She couldn't bare to say goodbye... not even put it to paper... One might no it by looking at the hardened expression on her face, but beneath that shell, Cicilia was afraid for her life. She felt like a lead-water balloon, with an iron hard exterior... nothing but weak, malleable fluid on the inside. It was a similar feeling to that very day where she stood in the alleyway, surrounded by thugs with weapons, Margaux smiling like the insane bitch she was... smug... confident... in control. She had fought as hard as she could and yet... she couldn't save herself... Sayumi had been hurt and she didn't even know how deep that went... and now another one was looking for her... wanting to kill her apparently. Out of everything Miranda had said, Cicilia believed that...

"...I love you Sayumi..." She whispered softly as she made her way out the door.

Brook was getting antsy just waiting inside the car and watching some weirdo who seemed to catch Miranda’s eye. She had burned through her entire snack stash and was just trying to find something to do at that point. She passively twisted napkins up, seeing how tight she could wind-up the fabric before it snapped or simply stopped moving in her powerful grip. She kept a passive eye on the door, though this was such a quiet neighborhood, there was hardly any activity to distract Brook from her duty other then old fashion boredom.

Finally, just as Brook ran out of napkins to twist, she hard a quiet “thunk” noise. Walking down the apartment complex path was the dark-haired girl Miranda had told Brook to watch, a sullen look on her face as she began her journey to…wherever she was going.

Doing as she was told, Brook used one of the radios Miranda gave to her in case her target began to move. “Uh…hello? Testing, testing, one two three!”

A few seconds passed before a monotone voice responded with a static gurgle, “What is it?” the voice was as cold and pointed as an icicle

“The subject just walked out of her house. I think she is heading off somewhere, but she had a sad look on her face. Or maybe it was an angry look? It's really hard to tell from all the way over here.”

Another slight pause from the other side, “Maintain surveillance. Follow her. Do not make any threatening motions if she spots you. Inform me when you think she has arrived at her destination and await further instructions. Finally, do not lose sight of her under any circumstances. Is that clear?”

Brook felt a chill run down her spine as she brought the radio back towards her lips for one last “Yeah, I got it.” before stuffing the radio in her jacket pocket. time for a walk.

Brook finally exited the car while adjusting her jacket and baseball cap to help her blend into the crowd just a little bit easier. She was likely going to stick out like a sore thumb, and she honestly did not understand why Miranda had sent her of all people on a trailing mission. Why not Kassidy? She lived for this kind of stuff, following people, watching them from afar, and she had a physique that blended in far more efficiently than Brooks. This whole thing seemed wacky, but then again, Brook knew her boss was not telling her the full story. She had a part to play in Miranda’s plan, and she would prefer not to earn the strange woman’s wrath. Get in, get paid, and be done with it was the Purple Punk’s way of thinking, and right now she had to go follow that girl to…wherever it was she was headed to.

--

“God fucking damn it…stuck here…”Watch the facility, Kassidy”…stupid, screw up one time…”

The hunter griped to no one in particular, stuck in the poorly lit factory that had not seen toy production for at least a year. The place was covered in dust, and the quiet creaking noises were like the dying moans of what this place used to be. The company that owned the factory had been having trouble through the harsh economic time, and had to sever a few of its assets in order to stay afloat. After some controversial layoffs and plummeting stocks, they began to sell off their factories to anyone who could afford them. Miranda took advantage of their desperation, and purchased this factory under a false name. Ever since then, the factory had become as cold and creepy as its new owner. No warm production of children's dreams or wishes...only cold steel and dirty deeds. No friendly factory worker chatter, just criminals working deals, and certainly no mountains of toys stacked and ready to ship. Simply dust crates with suspicious contents.

There really was an emphasis on “cold”, the entire place was freezing, with the factory being closer to a storage space, there was hardly any need to add expenses to it by paying for electricity. Only a few key rooms had a generator powerful enough to keep the lights on, and after an hour those lights always seemed to dim considerably. Kassidy sat in one of the few rooms that could power the lights and a small heater. She had been tasked to watch this place and make sure no hoodlums break in at deface it, Miranda always wanting her “work place” to be tidy. The crooked woman didn’t buy that, she knew why she was really here. This was basically a time out, a boring punishment for failing her task at the gym. No one was here to talk to, and she had to stay here until Miranda swapped her out. It sucked eggs, but she figured it was better to just swallow her pride this one time and take it. The worst part was the boredom and the cold. Kassidy could handle that much.

Or so she thought. The silence in the room was deafening, and driving her right up the wall. She had to do something, anything, or she would go nuts in that room!

She got up from her chair and marched out the office door, flicking her switch blade that she kept with her in and out of its sheath, playing with it as she began to patrol the area. No one was dumb enough to walk in here, not at this time of day. Honestly, just the sound of her walking around should scare away any kids dumb enough to walk in here, and if she caught someone snooping around…well, she wouldn’t be bored for too much longer. She had been practicing non-lethal cuts, and it would be nice to get some “real world experience”~

Cicilia had found her way to the factory... a sign that there was no going back now. With her destination in sight, it was one of life's little ways of informing you how regretting your decisions meant little... because the repercussions were already on their way. The Juggernaut's hands were tucked heavily in her pockets to shield them from the chill of the night... but they also cradled something... something old from her time back in Germany. Her fingers slipped around the icy cold steel, her fingers slipping in and out of the notches within which they were supposed to fit. She fiddled with the tool anxiously as she slipped inside the perimeter, eventually feeling out the shape of her pair of steel knuckles...

...She never thought she'd ever break these out for personal use... Never thought she'd ever find a reason to keep it around. It was a... "gift" from her family when she was old enough to compete... Actually, more like a test. If she couldn't win, she could use those... but her career as a fighter would be ruined forever. It was a test of the woman's resolve, to see if she would truly be able to earn the family name without destroying everything it stood for in the process... Cicilia had never given into the urges to ruin her honesty as a fighter... It had became a symbol of another one of those cruel tests she had been put through as a child, a reminder that she always had one more dragon to slay once they were all defeated here...

...But she had repurposed that symbol into something that would help her in material as well as the moral. Cicilia wasn't dumb enough to come without her own version of protection... not when she was coming after someone who had the intent to kill her. If this girl had a gun, she was sunk... Cicilia had nothing to defend herself from that. But if she could get her close... just close enough to get her hands on her... then this could end...

Cicilia slipped inside the dark, chilling factory, silent as she could be, her breath sending soft white clouds into the air. Fucking hell, it was a FRIDGE in here... How could it be colder in here than it was out there!? Damn ridiculous!

"Fuck me..." Cicilia whispered under her breath as she passed through a room of inert conveyor-lines, feeling as if the eyes of the devil were all around her. "I can't believe this is real..."