Scenario 1Mature

Dreams can be...strange sometimes. This is my personal collection of them--the parts I can remember, anyway.

I narrow my eyes at the tower before me, holding my shotgun close to my chest. They have the area guarded with both soldiers and traps, so I'll have to be careful on the way in. The iron gates that had previously been barred shut are now spread wide open, but there are two posts of ten soldiers at each gate, all armed. Well, that's just fine, because I'm armed too. No fight worth fighting is an unfair one, right? Further in, the paved road has been cleared of all carts and wagons. Civilians who have been deemed "high-ranking" are being let inside--no doubt to be harassed into giving money to the cause or bullied into supporting the enemy. Getting in will be tricky, but not nearly difficult. I've just got to keep the civilians from blowing my cover. How they've learned to recognize me anywhere is beyond me.

As for the way out, though... I touch the bulge in my pocket, activating the bomb tucked snugly inside, then deactivating it again once I'm sure it's in working condition. This'll be a piece of cake, I think to myself, a sly grin lighting up my features. Chaos is my middle name.

You might be wondering why I'm here, about to walk right into enemy territory with nothing but the shotgun in my hands, the bomb in my pocket, and only six extra shells and a handful of throwing knives. Some time ago, my friends would curse me for my recklessness--but what is living when you're living with limits? Now, hell...they'd gladly salute me with raised middle fingers if I got hit in the vitals. They're probably still mad over my part in pushing along this war to start. Well, what can I say? It was bound to happen whether or not I assassinated the King's wife. Besides, she had her own intentions. I've never bothered with the whole technically-I-saved-your-life thing.

Anyway, I'm here to get my friends out. They can hate me all they want, but I'm not letting them die in there. Especially not when their deaths can mean ending this war too soon--and with the wrong side as the victor.

I watch the last group of civilians shuffle into the main entrance, and hold my breath as the doors slowly close. A row of five soldiers line up along the road, blocking the way in.

Time to get moving.

I slide out of the shade of the small farming shack, head held high. Death is never certain in my mind.

"Stop! Intruder sighted! Stop, in the name of the General!"

Gunfire breaks out around me, but they're too eager. The shots burrow deep into the ground far off--their awful range is just fine with me. I snap into a run, diving toward them, flicking out throwing knives as they charge to meet me head-on. A lunge turns into a dodge under a soldiers kick, and I easily slip behind him, sending him rolling into another soldier with a sharp blow to the back of his neck. Fighting my way in is always one of the best parts, after all. One oh so brave soldier attempts to sneak up on me while I'm knocking out another of his friends. The barrel of my shotgun slides against my forearm with my swift turn, and I clutch the pistol grip as my finger tightens on the trigger, barrel against the soldiers chest.

Let them all come.



I lean against the closed doors, grinning. Now, to find--

"It's him!" A hissed whisper.

--the one's I'm looking for. Not very challenging, seeing how the General simply has them tied up in the middle of the dining room for all the upperclass people to see. But, then again, it isn't the challenge I've come for. I'm just here to get them all out.

The dimly lit hall conceals most of my form, hiding me from view of the mock-fighters posted along the walls leading to the inner chambers. There is, however, the one woman staring directly at me, her mouth gaping open. The grin on my face quickly turns into a scowl. Idiot. She'll give me away sooner than marching into the light and proclaiming myself will. I glide forward into the crook of a wall and an open door, cocking my head toward it to listen for anything else that may sell me out.

I crane my neck down to the crack between the door and its hinges, spotting one of my comrades, Benette, strewn across the armrest of a leather chair. Her eyes are seemingly closed, but a lifetime of memories leads me to believe that she's acting--and when I watch her for another minute, I'm proven right by the tiny, indiscernible nod she gives. Anyone else would mistake it for a jerk in the throws of a fitful sleep.

I know better.

When there isn't another murmur from the high class woman, but the sounding steps of a soldier advancing on my hiding spot, I slink into the room around the open door, crouched low to prevent the illusion of motion from catching attention. Once around the corner, I straighten upright and continue walking past the three women primping at the mirrors, my hands shoved into my pockets. The last thing I need is my plan to be wrecked by women screaming because holy shit there's a guy in the girls restroom!

That isn't to say I feel comfortable doing this--I just need to get it done in order to communicate with the group somehow. If Ben thinks she can get in here, or send in one of the girls to give me a message...she'll do it. The rest is up to me. I quietly accept my fate and shut myself in the last stall, sliding the little lock closed. Let no woman look under the stall door to see if there's anyone inside--Heaven knows my footwear isn't...ladylike.

Silently hissing when a flock of females flood through the open door, I turn away from the cracks of space between the door and the conjoined stall. If one of these women gives me away, I'll have to knock them out...

But all thoughts of having to silence screeches and squeals leaves my mind with the hushed "What the hell are you doing here?" that cuts through my reverie.

"Ben?" I breathe, quietly.

She clicks a fingernail against the stall, three times. All the air escapes my lungs. "What is the infamous Clockwork doing here? Back to wave your freedom in front of our noses? Mock us for believing in the New Government? Hm?" She gives a frustrated huff. "You're always risking your neck for stupid things."

Despite the venom in her voice, I smirk. I'll rub that in their faces any day. The deal the New Government had proposed to them was just a lie they made up in order to try and catch me. And they swallowed it like a starving cat swallows catnip. But they acted in the heat of anger at me, so I suppose I could cut them some slack. Snapping out of my wandering thoughts, I level my gaze back toward Ben's feet.

"I need you to distract the guards. I'm getting all of you out of here."

The End

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