She stumbled, falling to the ground. Pushing herself back up she inspected her hands. Her skin was scratched where she'd scraped the ground and blood was beginning to seep through her jeans. A few drops from her hands splashed on the ground. Looking back up, she began to run again, towards the edge of the roof.
The door behind her crashed as it was thrown open. In the doorway stood a tall, broad shouldered figure, clad in black armour and wielding an oversized rifle, silver plated. The name "Daisy" was engraved on the shell release, and the words "Zael Industries" on the stock. He brandished it with purpose and with the air of a man used to killing. Looking around briefly the green tinted visor locked onto the girl. Roaring, the figure crouched down, aimed and fired a hail of bullets at her.
In panic, she tried to speed up as bullets whizzed past her. Her body screamed in agony as the wound in her leg tore open. Blood poured down her leg, leaving a trail of blood as she limped towards the edge. Peering down, she recoiled in terror at the drop. Far below a small gray shape of a van trundled along. But just below her was the ledge she was looking for. Breathing in deeply, she leaned down to begin her descent.
Blood spurted in front of her face. She turned in horror to look at the torn clothing over her shoulder, left by the bullet that found its mark. Shocked, she felt herself tumble head over heels into the void below. Air rushed past her as she fell. Turning, she was able to see the figure reach the edge of the roof, look down at her and ready his rifle before stopping and growling. It disappeared beyond her view. Then the world was silent apart from the rush of wind. The last thing she saw was a cable being thrown over the edge before the world went black.
Awaking with a sharp breath, she found herself lying in a pile of old boxes. She tried to move but her body protested painfully, and she was only able to move her eyes. Light streamed in through a hole above her. A crash from outside drew her attention, and the wall suddenly gained a man-shaped dent. Slow footfalls fell from outside, working their way around to the door opposite her. A click, bang, and the doors were flung back to reveal the figure. Gun hanging loosely from a sling over its shoulder, it stepped inside, peering around. Its features became more defined as it moved, the green visor changing colour slightly until it fixed on her. It moved closer, as if inspecting her before reaching back and drawing a pistol. Lying helpless and paralysed, her eyes grew wide as it was pressed to her forehead and, as she tried to scream, the gun fired.