A Chance Encounter? (Training)

One Year Ago in Lower East Side Manhatten…

I make my way across my room to my closet, pushing it open to look at the clothes resting inside. I still didn’t have much, I had to admit. While I had gathered a few things to bring with me, and a few things after arriving, a year was far too little time to gather any real supplies or clothing. Too little time to have escaped from them. Too little time for them to have not attempted to find me.

I shake the thought away, pulling out a short, black leather dress from my closet. The mesh sleeves run down the length of my arms, slit in the side reaching to the center of my thigh. I grab my black high heeled boots from the bottom of the closet, underneath the scarce hangers of clothing, slipping them on, pulling the tops snugly over my knee. I don’t know what possessed me to go out this evening. It was more of a whim than anything. I’d been living here for a year now, and had yet to see anything of the city, despite my sole friend’s daily protests to take me out. I simply wasn’t that interested. This place was no more home to me than my last residence. This place only smelled worse.

Grabbing my purse from the sofa, I head on the door, meeting the smiling face of my friend at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, it’s about time you made it,” she says with a smile. I stare back at her blankly, nodding slightly. She shrugs, wrapping her arm around mine, despite our significant height difference, and leads me out the door of the apartment building, chattering along the way. She had miraculously gotten used to my non-responsiveness, a trait which had driven more than a few others away. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t heard the whispers in the hallway. The curious stares, as if I was some exotic animal placed in the middle of the New York zoo. University students didn’t have enough tactic to be secretive. Except Melissa of course. The strawberry blond had done an impressive job of tolerating me, going out of her way to be my friend. I could only guess she got some sort of benefit out of it, considering I was rather high on the scale of attractiveness, while she herself ranked slightly above average. The girl was cute, undoubtedly, but her childish face and short, 5’2” stature made her look more teenager than adult, unlike myself. She was always conscious of her weight, considering that even putting on a few pounds could make her look on the heavy side, throwing off the proportions of her body.

I walk slowly, giving the girl time to catch up with my strides. For every one step I take, she must take two or three just to keep up. I can only imagine how amusing the two of us must look together, what with the massive differences in height, especially in heels. She continues with her chattering, taking my occasional nod, or half-hearted “yeah” as a sign to keep going. The girl had been nice enough to me since my arrival. It was the least I could do to at least pretend I was interested in what she had to say.

At the turn on second street, I finally take notice of our followers. A black car had been following us for nearly three blocks now, headlights switched off to avoid detection. I pause, drawing Melissa’s attention. “I’m going to head back home,” I tell her. She narrows her eyes slightly, brow furrowing in question. “Why? We just left.” “I really don’t feel well,” I make up quickly. “I think I might’ve gotten food poisoning from earlier. I didn’t check the date. It was probably expired.” I silently beg her to drop the conversation and simply accept my excuse. But knowing her, she was bound to put her foot down. To demand that I come with her. That was just the way Melissa operated. True to form, she starts off, “Ary, look, I know adjusting been hard for you, but that’s why you need to get out more. Start socializing with people. Maybe even get a boyfriend or something.” I almost laugh at that one. Men would barely approach me, much less talk to me. My seemingly chilly demeanor had earned me the title Ice Queen from boys and girls alike at the school. They were just simply too intimidated by my presence.

I look back at the girl, crossing my arms. She wasn’t the only one that could put her foot down, and I could do it much better. “I’m leaving,” I announce, turning away from her. “Hey, wait a minute! Ary, get back here! Ary!” I hear her huff behind me as I make my way back down the street, in the direction of the black car. I assume she’s leaving as I hear the clack of her heels down the pavement, leaving me all alone with my new company. I slip into the nearby alleyway, hearing the slam of car doors as my stalkers emerge from their vehicle, making their way to follow me down the street. I wait patiently at the end of the alley, briefly wishing I wasn’t in heels at the moment, but dismissing it just as quickly. It’d been trained for this after all. No matter the situation, always be prepared.

“I didn’t expect to find you here of all places,” the first of my stalkers says in Russian, rounding the corner. The man is scruffy looking, with a thick five o’ clock shadow darkening his features. Clearly Russian Mafioso material. And from the looks of his five companions, they weren’t exactly on the friendly side of the law either. “Who sent you?” I ask, staring at them unflinching. If they thought I was some helpless maiden they could simply guide back, they were in for a rude awakening. And a painful lesson. The leader of the group, the one with the five o’ clock shadow reaches into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette before lighting it slowly in his mouth. “You know, they told us you were dangerous, but you don’t look so dangerous to me. How about you come along, honey? That way no one has to get hurt.” I say nothing in response, simply staring at him blankly. I certainly wasn’t the one that was going to get hurt should a fight occur. But this guy’s mouth was starting to get on my nerves. “Cold one, isn’t she?” five o’ clock shadow comments with a chuckle, glancing back at his smirking friends. “Anton,” he orders, looking at the meat head of the group. “Go get the princess for me. Don’t be afraid to rough her up if necessary.” Come at me Fido, see what happens to you. The man approaches, smirk still plastered over his face as he pulls out a switch blade, flipping the weapon open. “Nice and easy now,” he coos, stepping up to me.

And falling on his face almost immediately afterward, blood trailing down the front of his shirt. I pull back the blade in my hand, its manifested form identical to the one he had been holding just moments before. He had barely seen my strike coming, too shocked at the sudden movement to mount a proper defense. I had to admit, he had done well to move to the side, lodging the point of the blade into the center of his ribcage, rather than his heart, where I’d been aiming. “Shit,” one of them curses, pulling out his gun. My eyes glow a vibrant green as I throw up a wall separating me from the gunfire that follows. The bullets ricochet off, falling into the ground as harmless pellets. Witnessing this, the other four of them pull their weapons and commence firing. I push harder, fighting to keep my barrier up. But it was no use. I couldn’t withstand gunfire this harsh.

Dammit, I think, gritting my teeth. I won’t go back to that prison. Not again. I won’t let them cage me like a beast. Test me like a monkey. I look out at the nervous faces of the men, cracks forming along my wall as my fury, my rages raises. How could you possibly know what I’ve endured and yet still force me to go back? What if I put you in a cage? What if I trapped you? How would you like that?! My eyes burn brightly as the thought forms into my head a second before visualizing, squeezing three of the five remaining men into a tight cage, forcing them to drop their weapons. Since when can I do that? I think, shocked slightly.

The other two, seemingly as shocked as I am, cease their gunfire for a moment to look over at their comrades. That instant is all the time that I need. The wall shatters, providing another much needed distraction as I quickly materialize the hand gun in my palm, firing off two rounds at the unsuspecting men before they can get a work in edge wise. I then turn to the captured group, walking forward to stand in front of the small cage. They look at me, fear evident in their eyes. Without a word, I lodge a bullet in each knee cap before dismantling the cage, letting them fall to their faces on the cold cement. Half of the group lies dead on the ground, the caged ones being the lucky ones, still allowed to live. “Don’t come back for me,” I warn, the gun fading from my grip.

I turn to make my way back out into the street when I hear a shrill whistle, just before the bang of a gun. Pain laces down my right side on my back, a dark red stain forming on the front of my dress. I form a knife in my hand, twisting as I launch it at my shooter, Mr. Five o’ Clock Shadow. The blade hits directly between the eyes, killing him almost instantly. I grip my side, blood coating my hand within seconds as it freely floats out with each stumble forward. I had been hurt before, sure, but I’d never been shot. Who knew it could hurt this bad? I lean against the wall of the building on my left, walking a few more steps before collapsing, the loss of blood too immense. Glancing up, I notice the lack of stars in the sky, clouded out my New York’s pollution. What a dirty city, I think, clenching my wound. I really shouldn't have have worn a dress. I close my eyes, one last thought running through my head before losing consciousness. Dry cleaning is going to cost a fortune.

Spoiler:

The nights of New York City were still foreign to Blint. The sharply-dressed man walked past the endless streets of apartments, restaurants, and random varieties of shops as he got closer to his destination. He reached into a pocket of his trench coat, pulling out a small photograph of the person he was to meet. The girl was pretty enough, certainly easy on the eyes. But that wasn’t quite the reason for this visit. In fact, she didn’t even know Blint existed. Not that he minded, there was no reason for her to know of him, nor did he have any desire to get to know her. This visit was strictly business, much like the majority of activities that Blint took part in. He wasn’t the type to do things if there was nothing for him at the end of the tunnel. Blint had a score to settle, and this woman would help him to drive the point home.

Blint checked his watch, it was early enough. He was near the location of the woman’s apartment, truly hoping she’d be home. If he had to break into the apartment and wait for her there, he’d do that simply enough, but her being home would make things so much easier. First impressions were such an important thing, after all. Though in that case, maybe it would be better if he did break in. It’d show his abilities simply enough, and foreshadow his dark intentions as well. Ah well, only time would dictate Blint’s future actions. For now he cut through an alley, a dark mangy one, at that. This woman sure paid no mind to location when choosing her apartment., he thought. He’d never live in such a run-down area of New York, it wasn’t his style. Blint preferred the finer things, and as such had his own spacious apartment, but whatever. Not everyone can afford the things Blint could, with his unorthodox choice of career.

Taking the shortcut proved to be a good decision for Blint, catching sight of multiple bodies lying on the floor, blood seeping from apparent gunshot wounds. 6 Russian thugs kissing dirt. Oh yeah. Blint was in the right place, after all. The presence of the Russian’s told him that they knew about the woman, their current state told him that they’d been less than successful in apprehending her. Good. Blint needed her, after all, her being taken would put a damper on his original plans. Now, just where was she? She had to be nearby, the blood was still fresh. The corpses still held some warmth, though it was fading fast. If everything went well, which the look of the scene suggested, then she’d either be at her apartment or she’d gone out somewhere, having dealt with the Russian’s as little more than a distraction. If things didn’t go so well, then Blint had a problem. He decided to search around the alley, to make sure his target wasn’t one of the many bodies painting the floor crimson.

Things were worse than Blint had imagined, finding the woman lying in a pool of her own blood. ”Shit. You better not be dead, love.” he inspected the woman, checking her pulse to find her still alive. ”Good. Let’s get you out of here.” Blint picked her up, carrying her back to the apartment only a few doors away. He searched her for the key, finding it within her back pocket. He unlocked the door and entered the modest abode, placing her on the sofa. Taking off his black trench coat, Blint noticed the heavy blotch of blood. ”Damn it, not the suit.” he groaned. Putting the matter aside, he searched the bathroom for a towel and disinfectant, returning to pour the sanitizing liquid on the wound, then wrapping the towel around it to keep a steady amount of pressure. Looks like he’d be waiting after all.

Blint sat in a nearby chair, having washed his hands of any blood they had. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, keeping it stain-free. He’d also had luck to keep his black vest and dress pants clean as well, only his trench coat had suffered damage. But he’d worry about that later, as much as it angered him. ”This woman better wake up soon,” he thought. ”She owes me for the dry cleaning." Having nothing else to do, Blint picked up the TV remote on the coffee table in front of him. If he was to wait, he’d might as well make a time of it. And playing around with girls close to death wasn’t quite the man’s cup of tea. No, this would do for now. He placed a hand on his stomach, remembering that he’d not any a thing in quite a few hours now. Maybe his new acquaintance had something to fix this problem of his.

The sound of the television wakes me from my slumber, pulling me into the realm of consciousness. I sit up, gripping my pained side, my head spinning. I always hated this drawback to my ability. The freaking headaches made any amount of concentration difficult. I turn, wincing in pain slightly at the movement, only to come face to face with the stranger sitting non-chalantly behind me, a hand resting on his stomach. It takes me a moment to register the fact that he’s a stranger, much less a male one. How the hell did he get in my house? I think, face betraying nothing of my inner thoughts. I wasn’t panicked, not yet at least. He could’ve gotten the keys from anywhere. I could’ve even left my apartment open. It wasn’t as if I was that big into keeping things locked.

“I supposed you’re the one who brought me here?” I ask, reaching down to pull off my boots. I stand afterwards, slipping off my dress in front of the man. Being an experiment didn’t leave much room for modesty. Besides, it’s wasn’t as if he would see a whole lot aside from the black lace lingere I was donning underneath my dress, along with the tattoo on my ankle. If he watched enough, he might even catch a glimpse of the compass tattooed on my back, hidden beneath my long, blood stained hair. “I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him, walking towards my room. “Feel free to go into the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly normal to let a total stranger have the run of your house, but then again, I wasn’t exactly a normal girl. It wasn’t like he’d stolen anything while I was unconscious, and considering the fact that he had stuck around, I’d be willing to bet he had something to discuss with me. Either way, he’d have to wait until after I washed off the blood coating my side before he got any answers from me. Good or bad.

I walk into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom, turning on the water, adjusting it too the correct temperature before stepping in. The water sets my open wound on fire, forcing me to re-adjust it again until it’s luke warm. I shower as quickly as my wounds allow me, stepping out afterwards to wrap a towel around myself, grabbing a smaller one to place in my hair. I take a glance in the full body-mirror, opening my towel to insect the wound. Whoever he was, he had done a decent job of cleaning it. If it were to scar later, it would be a rather small one.

I make my way back into my bedroom, pulling on a green turtleneck sweater and brown jeggings before moving back into the living room. “I’m back,” I tell him, just to avoid any surprises. I move back to the couch, taking not of the blood stains before sitting down, hand touching the wound at my side gingerly. I had never been shot before. I’d been shot at before, sure, but my barriers usually let me block the majority of hits, assuming they weren’t from a high powered machine gun rifle, or something equally crazy to use.

I watch the man curiously, my face not once changing from earlier as I look at his actions, trying to figure out what it is he wants exactly. People don’t just hang around in a stranger’s apartment for no reason. Not unless they want something. “I’m Aryonna,” I tell him. “Mind if I ask your name, and why exactly it is that you brought me here, instead of say, a hospital? Awful strange that you know where I live, considering I don’t think we’ve ever met before.” I wait patiently for him to respond, giving him enough time to answer all my questions, and add any of his own that he might have. I was nothing but patient, as long as it got me the results I wanted. Besides, I was safe for the movement, considering they were dead. I might as well enjoy my freedom while it lasts.

Then again, maybe Blint wouldn’t have to wait as long he thought. Shortly after settling down, the woman regained consciousness. Her injuries must be getting to her, as she visibly shows signs of pain. Not surprising, since being shot tended to do such things to a person’s body. She looks at Blint, curiousity clearly written on her face when confronted by the stranger who’d taken place in her apartment. “I supposed you’re the one who brought me here?” she asks, reaching down to remove her boots. ”Do you see anyone else?” he replies in an even tone. She stands, undressing down to her underwear right in front of Blint. Not one for modesty, I see. He looks her over, noticing the tattoo of a compass on her back, obstructed by her blood-soaked hair, with another on her ankle. ”I’m going to take a shower,” she says, while walking to a room. “Feel free to go into the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Blint furrowed his brow. This visit hadn’t gone nearly as he’d expected, and now he felt like he was some random visitor, an acquaintance of hers, trusted to sit idly by while the hostess prepared herself for the evening. It was almost an insult, to be taken so lightly. Any regular person would’ve had a much more surprised reaction to Blint’s presence. This woman had merely taken it for a fact, something as easily accepted as the sun rising from the east in the mornings. He was more than a little disappointed by the lack of attention paid to his being here. But, then again, she certainly wasn’t a “normal” person. If she were, then Blint’s existence would continue to elude her, and he’d have no reason to show up unannounced. Putting his thoughts aside, Blint decides to take advantage of this instead. The fact that she accepted his presence so fast meant this wasn’t much of a surprise. Maybe she’d had similar visits in the past, who knew. Either way, he was here to accomplish something, and her cooperating rationally with smooth things over, and hopefully all would go in a quick and easy manner.

Standing from his seat and entering the kitchen, Blint neglects helping himself to any food. The poor woman was strapped enough for cash, from the looks of things. Besides, he had better tastes than what he’d seen lying around. Instead, he grabbed a glass from her counter and helped himself to a drink, adding two ice cubes before returning to his seat, just in time for her to return. She appears in a green turtle neck sweater and a pair of brown leggings, ”I’m back,” she announces, taking a seat on the same couch she was previously on, making room so as to avoid the bloodstains. She watches Blint, her face utterly expressionless, a blank canvas no doubt hiding a mind swirling with questions. At least, that’s what he hoped she’d be doing. If she just asked him about the weather and sports, and how the Yankee’s were doing this season, he’d probably snap. Fortunately, it seems she’d go down the direction Blint wanted, questioning his arrival and intentions. She began by introducing herself, ”I’m Aryonna. Mind if I ask your name, and why exactly it is that you brought me here, instead of say, a hospital? Awful strange that you know where I live, considering I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

He speaks with the same even tone, his own face matching hers, blank of any emotion and stating his words matter-of-factly. ”I know who you are, Aryonna, I’ve been looking for you. You’re right, we haven’t met before. You can call me Blint. We’re not at a hospital because hospitals ask questions, questions I don’t think either of us would be comfortable answering. Besides, I’ve taken care of your little flesh wound well enough, going to a hospital won’t be necessary.” he pauses, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip of alcohol. ”I’ll get right to the point then. Your friends, the Russians, and I, we have a little bit of a discrepancy. Suffice it to say, I’d like your assistance in sending a message. I came to you because I know of your relationship with them. I figured you’d be the best person to recruit for what I’m planning, with your previous experiences.” he pauses again, taking another sip and stopping to catch his breath. ”Of course, it is all up to you to decide. You could always stay how you are, always looking behind your shoulder, making sure you’re not being followed by a car full of thugs.” he paused once more, keeping his eyes on Aryonna, waiting for his words to sink in. ”Any thoughts?”

The stranger watches me, a slight look of curiosity on his face. It made sense after all. Not many people would like a total stranger into their home, much less have the run of it. I take note of the drink in his hand, despite his earlier mannerisms suggesting hunger. I shake my head, ignoring it. It wasn’t as if I care all that much what he did.

”I know who you are, Aryonna, I’ve been looking for you. You’re right, we haven’t met before. You can call me Blint. We’re not at a hospital because hospitals ask questions, questions I don’t think either of us would be comfortable answering. Besides, I’ve taken care of your little flesh wound well enough, going to a hospital won’t be necessary. I’ll get right to the point then. Your friends, the Russians, and I, we have a little bit of a discrepancy. Suffice it to say, I’d like your assistance in sending a message. I came to you because I know of your relationship with them. I figured you’d be the best person to recruit for what I’m planning, with your previous experiences. Of course, it is all up to you to decide. You could always stay how you are, always looking behind your shoulder, making sure you’re not being followed by a car full of thugs. Any thoughts?” he finishes, taking a pause every now and then to take a drink from his glass.

Only ten thousand, I think, my face of course betraying none of this. The man obviously had to be insane if he thought I’d believe his story. Besides, they couldn’t possibly be dumb enough to leave a paper trail, not after what they did. Although, to think of it, it’s quite possible something slipped when I left. I did level half the building on my escape. There’s no way that when undetected, especially so close to a one of the biggest cities in Russia. But that still didn’t explain his presence here, nor his issue with the Russians. Nor what type of message it was he intended for me to send.

I had a test for Blint, and if he succeeded, he might just convince me he really knows something. “Tell me,” I say, slipping easily into Russian. “what’s my real name? And where did you get this information? You can’t expect me to give you an honest answer with such vague statements. It wasn’t like my keepers just left information out in the open. And how exactly do you plan on keeping them away?” It was a simple enough set of questions, only the basics any good fugitive would ask. It was the Russian that would give him away. If he spoke with a dialect, it was more than likely he was working with them, in which case he would be dead on my floor before he had time to blink. If he didn’t understand however, he was just a crazed bastard that needed to be put in a mental asylum. Considering I was a pretty, young girl, I was sure a simple call to the police could set that in order. Russian was the first step to gaining my cooperation. What he could bring to the table would be the decision maker. He was right after all. I had left to escape them, not to keep running from them. I would accept any help that he could give, but only for the right price. I wasn’t about to leave one prison only to walk right into another.

Blint finishes his short little monologue, watching Aryonna closely to try and get a read on what she was thinking. To her credit, the girl’s face betrayed nothing. It stayed as blank a slate as ever. But it was her extended silence that gave her away. Not that Blint could blame her, he’d shown up out of nowhere, broke into her apartment, expertly healed a gunshot wound, and finally dropped a bomb of knowledge on her. He knew very well that small monologue wasn’t going to be nearly enough to bring Aryonna over to his side, but that was alright. He’d change her mind, one way or another. When she finally spoke up, it seemed she came up with a little test for Blint, her language shifting to Russian with the fluency only a native of the land would have. Blint smiled at this, he did so love a challenge.

“Tell me, what’s my real name? And where did you get this information? You can’t expect me to give you an honest answer with such vague statements. It wasn’t like my keepers just left information out in the open. And how exactly do you plan on keeping them away?” he took a final sip of his glass before setting it down on the coffee table, shifting his position to better settle himself. ”That depends,” he says, his language also shifting to Russian, speaking with a fluency almost at Aryonna’s level, only his pronunciation of certain phonetics betraying his status as a foreigner. ”On which name you’d consider ‘real.’ Your current name is Aryonna Iulian, but that’s really an alias, isn’t it, FE 07? he ended with a smirk. ”I’m afraid I can’t tell you where I’ve gotten my information. That would be betraying my own methods. For now, let’s just say I’m savvy with computers. I also can’t tell you a word about my plans, not yet at least. I need to know you’re on board before I reveal anything else, I’m sure you understand.” he reaches into a pocket hidden inside of his over coat, pulling out an orange envelope, tossing it on the table, directly in front of Aryonna, ”But I won’t leave you with nothing, of course. To trust a stranger’s empty words would be a grievous mistake, regardless of their words.”

Upon opening the envelope, Aryonna would discover a plethora of sensitive, highly classified Russian intelligence. There were files on the lab she was raised in, dossiers on all of the subjects (her included) along with all doctors, scientists, armed guards, even going as far as the janitor that only worked on Tuesday nights. Included also were schematics of the various lab equipment used to study and experiment on the test subjects, with blueprints of their construction and the building’s own blueprints to boot. It continued with paper trails and random photographs of Aryonna, both detailing her escape from Russia and subsequent arrival in New York. From there the information becomes increasingly brief, without many notable entries made. An impressive and highly thorough collection of information. This was Blint’s way to prove both his capabilities in information gathering, and how he managed to know so much about Aryonna, to the point of even identifying her apartment. As further proof of his commitment to “sending a message,” included in the envelope were dossiers of key figures in the Russian military, all of whom were directly related to the project that spawned Aryonna’s powers. The majority of them had been crossed out, marking them deceased, with 5 of them still alive, their locations written clearly. She would surely find this interesting, as the majority of these people were never even heard about, keeping their existence as closely guarded as possible. Not only were they crossed, but the random bits of writing on each paper suggested that Blint himself had carried out the executions, though never specifically stating his involvement.

He’d watch her then, anticipating any question she might have. When faced with such an overwhelming amount of information, he was curious as to how she’d react. In case things didn’t go as well as he’d planned, he was afraid he’d have to kill her. Such a shame, really, if it came to that. He wanted her cooperation on his little mission of revenge, and hated the thought of having his message squandered by her not being present. It would be clear enough with only him carrying everything out, but her being there would multiply the intended effect, and it would grant her a peace of mind that she hadn’t known since leaving that lab so long ago. In his eyes, it was a win/win situation. Now if only she saw it that way, as well.

He takes my bait, pausing for a moment before setting down the glass. I wait for him to stay something smart, to claim that I was being unfair by not cooperating and speaking in English. He surprises me, however, breaking out into a fluent Russian monologue instead. ”That depends,” he begins, only the smallest hint of an accent in his words, “on which name you’d consider ‘real.’ Your current name is Aryonna Iulian, but that’s really an alias, isn’t it, FE 07? I’m afraid I can’t tell you where I’ve gotten my information. That would be betraying my own methods. For now, let’s just say I’m savvy with computers. I also can’t tell you a word about my plans, not yet at least. I need to know you’re on board before I reveal anything else, I’m sure you understand. But I won’t leave you with nothing, of course. To trust a stranger’s empty words would be a grievous mistake, regardless of their words.”

The name didn’t get to me anymore. It was just like a nickname at this point. A secret code between me and them, as if we were a bunch of giggling high school girls. But I had to admit, my guest now had my attention. I could only guess he was a procurer of fine things, mostly involving computers. A hacker so to speak. And I could only assume in that case that my keepers had been that stupid. They should’ve known better. Computers were their greatest ally, but also their worst enemy. And at least I knew we were on the same page, trust wise. I could already tell this relationship was going to be of give and take.

He surprises me once more, throwing a orange folder in my direction, onto the coffee table. I glance at it curiously, picking it up. I unlatch the twine around it, pulling out the contents inside to examine it. It was times like this I was glad I had never learned to display emotions. All of my documents were here, from start to finish. Every shot, every test, every pen stroke, all documents. I find the list of military commanders last, glancing over the x-ed out list carefully, fingers trailing over the photos. I freeze as they drag over the last to the left, poker face breaking for the first time as my eyes widen, fingers beginning to tremble.

Memories bring on a flood of emotion, choking off my air supply as I keep my gaze fixed on the photograph. The smell of stale cologne and cigarettes as he moves towards me, pinning me into the corner. I couldn’t fight him, not here. They’d only pump me full of drugs…he’d only sneak in afterwards. Not that it was that hard for him to sneak it. He was funding them after all. And I was everyone’s prize. I blink, snapping myself from my thoughts, looking over at the man again, the fear fading from my eyes, replaced once again with a deadened regard.

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask, in English once again, placing the folder back on the table with a trembling hand. I didn’t want to be a part of this anymore. I just wanted to be rid of them. I just wanted them, and everything they represented gone. I sigh, rubbing my temple to soothe my pounding headache, closely my eyes lightly before opening them again slowly. “Say, I help you. We help each other…considering I think that’s why you’re here. What can you do for me? How can you keep them away? You’d be starting a war with Russia, you know that?”

Blint had prepared the envelope for many reasons, firstly to show how masterful he was with procuring information, secondly to prove to Aryonna that he wasn’t just a stranger speaking grand words with nothing to back them up, and thirdly to get a read on her reaction to the images of the location and people who were previously her source of torment. After meeting her, however, he’d assumed that that third point would be rendered moot, with the woman’s face being utterly expressionless at all times. But she surprised him, as her eyes widen and fingers begin to tremble at the sight of the military commanders. Just what I wanted to see. She pauses for a long time, eyes fixed on one commander in particular. Her throat tightens, her eyes wide in what can only be described as an old, deep fear. She blinks then, her mind apparently snapping free of whatever trance had just taken hold of it. She turns her attention back to Blint, her expression returning to its previous blankness, eyes glazing over once more in silence.

“What does this have to do with me?” she asks, returning the envelope to its previous location, her hand still trembling. She sighs, trying to regain her composure. She massages her temples, eyeing Blint once more. Blint stays silent the entire time, merely watching her. Her reaction to the envelope had gone beyond what he’d originally thought. She must have another secret or two that even his expert information collecting hadn’t managed to find. Regardless, he’d gotten what he wanted. He could trust her now, at least a little more. “Say, I help you. We help each other…considering I think that’s why you’re here. What can you do for me? How can you keep them away? You’d be starting a war with Russia, you know that?” she says, language shifting back to English. He pauses for a moment, to allow Aryonna to collect herself. ”Not quite.” he speaks, returning to English once more as Aryonna had. ”You see, you caused quite a commotion with your escape. I’m sure you didn’t think a lab practically exploding would go unnoticed, did you? Of course not. Anyways, with that stunt of yours, you invited an influx of unnecessary attention to all those involved in the project. The commanders, especially, were given a large amount of the blame. They managed to avoid any heavy repercussions by starting up another project, one that involved me.” he shifted in his seat once more, seemingly uncomfortable. His face revealed nothing, however. Blint was many things, and he knew how to keep a poker face as expertly as Aryonna, probably even better, given his previous experiences.

”But the point is, you and I share more similarities than you might believe. Anyways, long story short, that second project was also a complete failure, resulting in another set of consequences. The way things are now, those military leaders are walking on very thin ice. The rest of the Russian military views them in quite a negative light, believing them to be more of a hindrance than an ally. In other words, this is the perfect chance to exact a little personal vengeance, and still come off scot free. The Russians would simply put a spin on their deaths, as they have with every other crossed out officer in that envelope, and falsely honor them as ‘Fallen Heroes’ before sweeping everything under the rug and continuing on, business as usual.” he finished with a small smile. ”So, I wish to take this opportunity to take down each and every miserable bastard whose ugly mug you saw in the file. I wanted you to be involved for a number of reasons. I figured you’d be all in at a chance for revenge against your previous captors. Then you’d not only have the pleasure of taking their lives with your own hands, but you’d know first-hand that they wouldn’t be bothering you anymore. Peace of mind is quite a prize, isn’t it?”

He paused once more, allowing Aryonna some time to think. ”My message is this, short, sweet, and to the point.” his expression soured for the first time, turning to a decidedly angry note. ”Don’t. Fuck. With Blint.” his face returned to its previous visage, though now rougher, more serious in contrast to his previous lax expression. ”And what better way to deliver that message than with the one who started the problem to begin with? That’s my plan, Aryonna. The gist of it, at least. I’d like your assistance, as it would magnify the impact, but it’s not entirely necessary. It’ll be done either way, as I have my own motivations, but this is quite an opportunity I’m giving you. I’d suggest you not squander it.”

I lean back on the couch, thinking over his words as he finishes with his little speech. It was obvious the man had been hurt by them as much as I had, and he wanted payback. The question is: did I? I hated them, that was sure, but did I really hate them enough to kill them all? Without a second thought? Maybe. Maybe I just didn’t care what happened to them, as long as all of this ended.

I stand, walking into the kitchen, starting to make myself a cup of tea, glancing over at the man. “You want anything?” I pause, giving him time to answer. I would then walk over to the sink, pulling out a pot from a nearby cupboard to fill with water. I place it on the gas stove, lighting it before moving on to prepare Blint’s drink, assuming he had asked for something. I absentmindedly glance around the kitchen, taking note of my apartment’s rather sorry state for the first time. It wasn’t like I actually paid attention to my surrounding all that often. No one ever came here but me. But, perhaps it was time to move on. At least get away from this crime ridden neighborhood.

I turn my attention back to the now boiling water, moving it off the hot burner before shutting it off. I then pull out a tea cup and tea bag, placing the latter inside the former before filling it up with the boiling water. Reaching over, I pull out a packet of sugar from the inside of one of the nearby containers, pouring it inside. I would then take my drink (and Blint’s) back over to the couch (handing him his along the way.

I take a sip of the water liquid, body relaxing almost immediately. I reach into my pocket, handing over my cell phone to the man. “My number’s in there. And you obviously know where I live already. I’d appreciate it if you called next time you planned on stopping by. I hope you have a damn good Russian passport.” I take another sip from my tea, glancing over at the man. I still didn’t believe this was all he wanted from me, considering he had already admitted to not really needing my help. But, I was willing to put a little trust in him if it gave me the chance to get even with them. They thought I was a failure, but they had no clue how wrong they were.

Then again, maybe it would’ve been better if they had succeeded in removing my emotions. Maybe then I would be able to quell this unspeakable rage building. Rage at the scientists who started it. Rage at the government who enabled it. And most of all, rage at the people who idly stood by and watched it happen. I really was turning into one hell of a monster. The sad thing is, I wasn’t so sure if that was a bad thing yet.

Aryonna leans back on her couch after Blint finishes speaking, pondering the man’s words. Blint had sure said a mouthful. He normally wasn’t such a heavy talker, but the situation required him to step outside of that way of thinking and explain things better. He’d hardly get Aryonna’s assistance by keeping her completely in the dark. Not her willing assistance, anyway. But his speech was done now, thankfully. All that was left was for her to say the magic words, and his business would be handled.

She stands, making her way to kitchen. She glances back at Blint, ”You want anything?” he thinks for a second, ”whatever you’re having, love.” She busies herself in the kitchen, leaving Blint to his own thoughts. He used this time to think his plans over, should Aryonna have any more questions to ask him. He’d have to answer if he wanted her help, but he’d been rambling for what seemed like hours now. Not quite a good first impression, if he had to say. He closes his eyes, relaxing once more after returning from the dark thoughts brought on by his previous words, the mentions of the second failed experiment. Though Blint hadn’t received his abilities straight from the Russians, as Aryonna had, they’d had their own interests in his powers. An interest that proved quite fatal for a few of them, and would now return to bite the remaining members’ right in the ass. His face brightened at that thought, a tiny smirk finding its way across his face.

Returning from the kitchen, Aryonna hands Blint his drink, the same thing she’d prepared for herself. They both take a sip, relaxing as the tea warms them from the inside. She pulls out a cell phone from her pocket, handing to Blint, who then takes it from her hand. “My number’s in there. And you obviously know where I live already. I’d appreciate it if you called next time you planned on stopping by. I hope you have a damn good Russian passport.” Blint smiles as he takes another sip, ”well I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi, you’ve never met me, but let’s kill some Russians’ didn’t seem like a very good icebreaker.” He puts down the cup, placing it next to the glass he’d previously used. He extends his right hand, intending to shake Aryonna’s hand. ”Either way, I’m glad you’ve decided to join my little adventure.” after shaking her hand, he’d proceed to make his exit, replacing his hat on his head and grabbing his bloodied over coat, draping it across his left shoulder. Such a shame to ruin a marvelous coat.

”Anyways, I’ll be taking my leave now. I’ll contact you when I have something else to tell you. Do take care, love. I’d hate to have to ruin another coat.” he finished with a mischievous yet playful grin on his face, both speaking honestly, and mocking her a bit for failing to properly handle her previous situation. Now having exited the apartment and closing the door behind him, Blint looked up at the sky for a moment. There was not a star in the entire thing. Such a dirty city, he thought, before shrugging it off and making his exit. He walked through the cold, dreary streets in silence, significantly colder now that he had no coat to shield him. He’d have to find a damn good dry cleaner.