zlov989

  "If a sword student's tools are his weapons, then mine are my pen and paper..."  

[zlov989]

Wattpad Book Covers all made by @zlov989 * Just sharing a collation of Book Covers created in the last three years for my Fanfics, most of which can be accessed on Wattpad here. All covers were made in a non-profit educational stance. All images adhering to fair use. * * NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair is" purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-Profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favour of fair use.

[zlov989]

Of Two Worlds: A Star Trek Story

Part: Prologue Original Wattpad Part: here Summary:  She was of Two Worlds. A disgrace in one, an abomination in the other. Driven by emotion, guided by logic. She was the best they had, the fastest, the smartest, She was the first of a new class of Cadets, The first of the era of Starfleet. So why was she running? Pairing: Spock x OC Fandom: Star Trek (Alternative Original Series) Warnings: N/A Author’s Note: I don’t update my books regularly on Tumblr so if you like my work and want to see more, please check out my Wattpad here. There I update regularly and interact with my audience a lot more.  Word Count: 1975 Words

“Sir please…” The first officer began, before being cut off by another group of cadets walking between the two figures. Huffing, he stepped forward again, closing the distance between his figure and that of his captain who walked with great pace towards an academic building. “I respect your judgement and as you know, I have also found your decisions sound and logical, but this. I don’t understand.” The First Officer continued, finishing his sentence in time as another wave of cadets pushed his figure away from that of his captain. He was one of two figures, dressed in dark greys, in a sea of cadets, rushing from class to class, flooding the halls of the academy in deep red uniforms. Stepping through the crowd again, he found his captain waiting at the door of the building, holding it ajar with an unamused expression upon his face. “I know this is my age showing,” The captain announced as the first officer stepped passed him and into the now quiet lobby. “But I always hated the hustle bustle of the academy, too many people, too much noise. Space is just quiet, peaceful. But hey, that’s just my grey hairs showing.” He chuckled, stepping in to follow his First Officer. “The absence of sounds makes space silent, a little extreme for one who just wants some quiet. As for peaceful, that is what Starfleet endeavours to achieve.” The First officer commented. “But as I was saying sir, I don’t agree, I- “ “Spock.” The First Officer went silent, waiting for his captain to continue. “I know you don’t agree with it, but you need something to keep you focused.” “My ability to remain on task and attend to my duties has not waivered-“ “It has.” The first officer went silent again, shocked to be hearing the words the exited his Captain’s mouth. “You’re still good Spock, you’re the best I’ve got. But since everything with your sister, you lost your edge.” The Captain sighed, taking a step towards his youthful first officer, he lifted a hand to rest it on his shoulder, the Officer not even showing a response, his figure still frozen by the shock of the Captain’s words. “Being able to guide, and focus on another’s learning, I hope, will give the space you need to find what works for you.” Lowering his hand from the shoulder of his officer he took a step back and began to walk further into the learning facility. “I have some personal business to attend to. You however have a simulation to observe. It seems the simulation you designed, the Kobayashi Maru, needs some fine tuning. There is a Cadet that is expected to beat it today. That’s why command called you onto Campus.” “They’ll only slow me down.” Spock’s voice rung out down the corridor, causing the captain to pause mid step and turn to look back at his First Officer. “Captain Pike, this will only serve as a disruption to my duty and impede upon my ability to fulfil my tasks onboard the Enterprise.” Pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose the Captain sighed. “Simple English, Spock.” He insisted.   “They will get in the way.” The finality of his First Officer’s tone drew a small smile onto the captain’s lips. He admired his first Officer, his ability to remain true to logic, even when logic was failing him. “You don’t know that.” The Captain stated simply, watching as his Officer’s disgruntled expression as he prepared to throw another argument of disagreement straight back at him. “I do sir- “ “Spock.” The Officer paused himself, waiting for his Captain to finish. “Have a little faith.” ✧✶✧ The Commander stood at the back of the room, watching the simulation room through the viewing window. Below, in the simulation room lay a bridge, the Cadets who manned the station all stood at ease, waiting for the simulation to begin. Commander Spock watched as the doors to the bridge slid open, all the Cadets straightened up. “Captain on the bridge.” One of the Cadets called as a female figure stepped in, her long brown hair falling to cover her face, the only notable feature that of her black uniform, not red of a cadet, or grey of an instructor. The woman stepped through the bridge until she reached the Captains chair. Looking around at all the Cadets, they gave a short nod, and they all turned to man their stations. The cadet located in operations turned to face the chair, reading the simulation. “We are receiving a distress signal from the USS Kobayashi Maru. The ship has lost power and is standard.” The Cadet explained as the female figure sat down in the Captain’s chair, their eyes fixated on the simulation screen ahead. “Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them.” The Cadet finished before turning back to their station. Commander Spock stepped up to the head of faculty as the female figure began to give her first order. “I want long range sensors set to max, and a scan of everything within a 5 light year distance of us.” There was nods of acknowledgement as cadets set to work. “Sir,” Commander Spock mumbled. “I do not see why I was required here to observe this simulation. The program has run without issue for a year already.” The instructor turned to look at the commander, a smile creeping onto his features. “With respect Commander,” The Instructor breathed back, “Just watch.” Spock stepped back, unsure of the meaning behind the instructor’s words. But he did hold his objections and turn his attention back to the bridge below. “The Klingon Warbirds are preparing to fire.” A cadet called out. “Can I get all power diverted from weapons to shields?” The female figure called out, Spock blinked back in surprise, of all the reports he had read, every Cadet’s first attempt was always to attempt to destroy the Klingon warbirds. “Evasive manoeuvres, I need you to get engineering as far away from those warbirds as you can.” The cadets around the bridge began to move frantically. “And I want every personnel not on the bridge to get down to engineering.” “Captain, what about the Kobayashi Maru crew?” A cadet called out as the sound of explosions echoed around the simulation, sounding the first hit from the Klingon warbirds. “Shields are holding, at ninety percent.” “Are their shields down?” The woman called out. “Yes, ready to transport.” A cadet confirmed. “But we can’t get them on board if we’re firing.” “We’re not firing through.” The woman called; the Cadet looked back up at her in surprise. “C-correct.” He stammered in realisation; a shield warning popped up. “Shields are holding and at eighty percent.” “Good, then get them on board, use the cargo transports in engineering, we can get more people quicker.” The woman urged, the Cadet nodded and turned back to his station instantly. “I want a full review of the autopilot function on Kobayashi Maru.” “The ship is dead captain.” A cadet called out as another turned around. “Twenty percent of their crew has been transported.” “How long till we have everyone?” “Thirty seconds.” The female figure stood up and moved towards the station of her second pilot, before glancing over her shoulder she called out to another station. “Can I get one of our escape pods launched empty, one with auto pilot and any form of photon weaponry.” A cadet nodded, starting up an escape pod. “I need you to patch navigation through to these two stations.” She explained, pointing at her two pilots. “Anyone else know how to fly this vessel?” “Aye.” One cadet called out from the back corner of the bridge. “Transfer control of the vessel to their station.” The Captain called out. Before turning to her pilots. “I need one of you to hit the shot of your life. And the other to fly better then you knew you could. Sort out who does what.” Both pilots nodded. “What am I aiming for captain?” One of the two questioned, his station shifting into that of weapon operations. “Their Warp Core.” Spock stepped forward in shock, a warp core explosion was big enough to send ripples of radiation five light years away, killing all life instantly. The two cadets turned to their stations as an addition screen appeared before Commander Spock. It displayed the escape pod strategically navigating its way through the blasts from Klingon ships. Two of the four warbirds broke line, following the escape pod as it sped towards the Kobayashi Maru. “Are my scans clear?” The female called. “Yes Captain, no vessel, planet or moon within a five light year range.” A cadet called out. “Our shields are at forty percent.” “Do we have everyone?” “Yes.” Another cadet called. “Do we have enough power to go to Warp?” “Only if we divert from shields.” Another cadet called. “Do you have a clear shot on their core?” The captain asked her pilots, he gave a brief nod, as she turned away. “On the count of three, I need you to divert all remaining power straight to the Warp core. The second you have power, punch it.” She turned back to her pilots, “On the same count of three, you’re going to blow that core into oblivion.” A murmur of agreement echoed the bridge as the captain turned to look at everyone, silence swallowed the room as every cadet turned their full focus to their job, the only sounds that reached the keen ears of Commander Spock was that of the simulation.   “One….” Many of the cadets glanced around at one another, their expression a mix of confusion, relief and astonishment. “Two…” Commander Spock stepped forward until he was a meter from the viewing window, his mind running a million miles an hour, disbelief and astonishment perplexing him to the point of compulsion. “Three…” Like a switch had just been flicked, the illusion of silence was shattering as every cadet into the room jumped into action. The commander watched was the pilot hit his mark on the Kobayashi Maru Warp Core before sitting back from his station in shock, he watched as the cadets in charge of offensive confirmed the power diversion, the operation cadet who had taken control of the vessel pushed the ship into warp faster then he’d seen any Lieutenant move. The simulation faded to black as each Cadet stepped back from their stations, many stood, hands hovering above the controls, frozen in shock of what had just happened. As the lights began to turn on the results screen flashed up. “Simulation; Kobayashi Maru Exam.” The system began to announce. “Kobayashi Maru Status; destroyed in combat. Survivors; Two-thousand and twenty-eight. Starfleet causalities; zero. Vessel Status; Mild damage to all systems, all systems running on low power, engineering, undamaged.” Spock turned his gaze to the female figure standing in front of the captains chair. Disbelief rendering him frozen as the Instructor turned to look at him. “This is why I called you here, Commander.” The Instructor explained, Spock blinked back in shock, unfreezing himself from his trans. “I don’t remember any females in this year’s Command Training Program.” Spock stated, turning his gaze to the instructor. “She’s not part of the Command Training Program.” The instructor’s words made no logical sense to the Commander, as his gaze again found that of the female figure, dressed in the unfamiliar Black uniform. “Then what program is she in?” The Instructor chuckled at the Commander’s question. “That, Commander Spock, is classified.” Spock turned away from the instructor, none of what he had just witnessed making any sense. Turning away he watched the viewing window faded to read one final message, a message that Spock knew should never appear, as he had programmed it to be impossible. ‘Simulation Status: Pass...’

[zlov989]

Kingsman: The Last Link (Chapter 1)

Part: Chapter 1 First Part: here Original Wattpad Part: here Part Summary: Is the offer Harry Hart makes too tempting the turndown...? They say you should never go knocking on death’s door, they never said anything about not talking to the man who answered your knocking...  Pairing (long run): Harry Hart x OC Fandom: Kingsman Warnings: language, mild violence, spoilers?? Author’s note: I don’t own the gif. If you’re interested in more of my work, I have more works and regular posts on Wattpad here. Word count: 2,635 

I woke with a start. My head pounding and my throat raw. A sharp pain erupted in my arms as I glance down to find my sudden movement had dislodged the drip in my arm. I breathed out in relief, I was alive to say the least. I pulled up the edge of my shirt to find a set of stiches up my side where the shard of glass had been buried. Lower on my stomach was dressing where bullet had broken through my flesh. I glanced around at the quiet hospital ward. Surgery recovery, I realised as I noticed all of the other unconscious figures. I reached out of the bed and grabbed my clothes from the chair. Yanking the drip from my arm, I made my way down the corridor and to the bathroom.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" One of the nurses questioned as I emerged from the bathroom. I glanced past her to see three police officers talking to a distressed nurse who gestured towards the bed I'd been lying in. Shit. "I'm fine." I stated simply. Moving past the nurse who stood in my way and walking towards the exit. "You're bleeding." The nurse insisted, I glanced down at my arm, a trail of dark blood leaked from the spot I'd ripped the drip out of. Glancing back up, I noticed another set of police officers standing just outside the ward exit. "I'm fine." I insisted, turning back to look at the nurse. Before she could push me any further, I turned and ran towards the fire exit. Grabbing a handful of wound dressing and a scalpel from the nurses' desk. I shoved it in my pocket before shoving the fire exit open and quickly scaling the steep stairs down to street level. An alarm began within the ward as the door swung shut. Landing roughly on the street, I pulled my jacket on and walked quickly past the hospital entrance, avoiding the next set of police officers who stormed up the central stairs. Steering clear, I quickly jogged down the east stairs and towards a side street. "Leaving so soon?" A voice sounded from my right. I froze mid step, my weight falling back onto my heel as I slowly turned to face the speaker. It was a man wearing a double breasted grey suit. He leant on his umbrella, watching me through his clear glasses. My fingers closed around the scalpel in my pocket, my senses screaming danger. "Who are you?" I questioned bluntly. "I'm the man who saved your life." He stated simply, unfazed by my curt mannerisms, my eyes narrowed as I sized up his claim. His appearance matched the man from the shipping yard, along with his voice. "What do you want?" I questioned, "Just a convocation." He stated, pushing himself up from where he leant on the side walk. "You're a hard person to track." I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the scalpel. "Where are you going to take me?" The man turned back to look at me surprise, an amused expression masking his features. "I was actually thinking a local bar, I could do with a drink. Got any suggestions?" I blinked back in surprise at his response. He wasn't here to interrogate me, perhaps he didn't even know who I really was. "There's one three blocks from here." I mumbled under my breath, relaxing slightly as I took a step down to the street, following the unnamed man. "Oh, and you won't be needing that scalpel." He called over his shoulder, not even looking back at me. I blinked back in surprise as I removed the half blunt blade from my pocket and looked down at it before glancing back at the man who leisurely strolled down the street. I knew it was a bad idea, the whole thing. But with a sigh, I dropped the scalpel into a trash can and walking after the well-dressed man. ―☂― "Why'd you save me?" I questioned, leaning back the seat to watch the man. "A little gratitude would be nice." The man responded simply. I watched his posture closely, taking note of how he sat straight and projected a combination of relaxed calm and keen alertness. "Who said I was thankful?" I replied in a challenging tone. He raised an eyebrow at my tone but when I didn't back down he nodded. "And you would have preferred I let that junkie put a pretty hole in your face?" He questioned, taking a relaxed sip of his drink. "Would've saved me this convocation, wouldn't it?" I replied bluntly, he choked on his drink as my words registered. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting the response I'd given. "Who even are you?" I questioned, relaxing my position. "Who are you?" The man responded with an equal challenge to what I'd given him earlier. Once upon a time, a smirk would have lit up my lips at the signs of a challenge. But I felt nothing, I just looked at him blankly. "You're one of them intelligence." I stated simply. The clashy speech of a street life making me cringe internally. But I needed to maintain it if I had any hopes of making sure this man had no idea who I was. "Of sorts." He nodded. "But so were you, once." My eyes narrowed instantly, but I leaned back, crossing my arms in front of me. "Don't even know what the word meant 'til last week." I stated, the man raised his eyebrow again, giving me the same unimpressed look. "You're lying, convincingly. But never the less, lying." He proclaimed, inspecting the detailing of his glass that lay on the table before him. Like he was satisfied by his analysis, he looked up at me, his gaze calm and collected. "You can drop the act, I know you were trained well." My eyes instantly narrowed at his comment, but I did as he said. "And how could you know that?" I questioned simply, swallowing as I let myself use the words that came to mind. Rather than putting up the act of a street life. "You just said I was intelligence, didn't you?" The man smirked, taking a sip of his drink. "How many red-headed, females, between the age bracket of eighteen to twenty-five, are in the United Kingdom Special Forces database?" He questioned simply. "Two." The simplicity of my answer caused him to blink back in surprise. "And the second holds one of the highest roles in our country's military." "Exactly." The man nodded. "Celaena London." I explained, looking down. "My file would have been redacted." "Dare I ask what lead to a redacted SRR file?" The man questioned, acknowledging that he knew exactly which file had been mine. "It would take an exceptional amount of trust, years of friendship and a few drinks to learn that." I stated simply, I saw him glance at the lack of alcohol in front of me before nodding. "How about we just start with names and an offer." He suggested. "Harry Hart." I looked down at his extended hand before hesitantly shaking it. "There is a position within the ranks of my organisation that just opened up. And each of the table's men has been asked to select a candidate." He explained, pausing to take a sip of his drink. "I would like to extend that offer to you." "What sort of position?" I questioned. "One that is in line with your skill set." He assured me, with a small nod. "You'll work in the shadows to protect the greater good of the world." "And the selection process?" "Nothing you haven't experienced before, in your previous line of work." I nodded in understanding. "Should you be interested, I assure you the details will be less vague." "And any conditions?" Mr. Hart chuckled at my question, taking the time to sip at his drink before responding. "That you don't go getting yourself killed in the meantime." Once upon a time, I would have laughed, even chuckled at his suggestion. But I didn't feel anything more than the pain of the stitches in my side. "If you are who you refuse to say you are, then I won't exist. I'll be another faceless force." I stated simply, my gaze, cold and truthful held his. He didn't blink back, no shook masked his expression. I could see in his eyes he knew what I was, what I could do. "You don't exist Celaena London." Mr. Hart stated simply. "You could die one day and you would be yet another nameless body in the gutters. I'm offering you the opportunity to do something better with your life. I don't know why your time in the UKSF ended, but I know it ended too soon for you." The bar door creaked open as five men walked in, my attention leaving Mr Hart and moving to the curled snake tattoo on one of the men's arms. "What is it?" Mr Hart asked as he followed my diverted attention to the five men. "They're part of that cult whose fake heroin I burnt to the ground." I explained. "Who also almost killed you? But then I did the polite and saved your sorry life." He added. "Are you always such an ass to people you just meet?" The words came out before I could think twice. "Well everyone has got to excel at something." He muttered, taking a sip of his drink, before turning his attention back to me. "I've met bigger asses." I muttered under my breath, glancing away from the group. "Who said that's what I excel at." Mr. Hart smirked. I shot him a glance, my eyebrow raised. "You just–" "Oi, that's the red-headed brat who blew up business." One of the men hissed, cutting me off mid-sentence. A grumbled agreement was heard from the four other men as they approached our booth. Sighing, I turned to look up at the man who'd spoken. "What do you want?" I questioned bluntly, my eyebrow raised in an impatient manner. "You're gonna regret not blowing yourself up with our shipment." The man spat, a few drops saliva flying from his mouth and landing on my cheek. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched Mr. Hart take a sip of his drink, an amused expression pulling at his features. I looked back up at the man, satisfaction pulled at me as I could see his anger almost boiling over, my slow calculated movements pushing him over breaking point. "I actually, am quite happy being alive." I stated simply. "Just give my friend here five minutes to finish his drink, and I'll make sure your sorry necks are broken." "You bitch–!" "I suggest you turn around and leave, now." Mr. Hart placed his drink down, cutting the brute off as he looked up at the five men. "I suggest you piss the fuck off silver ass, we wouldn't wanna get blood on that suit." The man hissed, I turned my gaze back to Mr. Hart, who raised his eyebrow at me. "Go on." I muttered, nodding to Mr. Hart. "I can handle myself." Taking a final sip of his drink, he picked up his umbrella and walked passed the five men and towards the doors. "Ain't he a little posh for you princess." The first man smirked leaning in to brush the hair from my cheek. I caught his hand and twisted it to the side and locking it. The man swore as his knees buckled. Yanking his hand from my grip he hugged it to his chest, glaring up at me from where he now knelt on the ground. "He's smarter than any of you could be." I stated simply. All five men turned to look at the door where Mr. Hart stood with his back to the bar. He reached up to the lock on the door, his hand hovering over as silence blanketed the room. "Manners." The first lock clicked in. "Maketh." The second lock clicked. "Man." The third lock clicked into place, I watched as Mr. Hart paused. One hand on his umbrella while the other resting on the door. "Do you know what that means?" Mr. Hart questioned, watching the reactions of the men in the reflection on the plaque. They glanced between one another, cracking their knuckles and moving towards Mr. Hart. I rose from my seat, moving behind them as they approached. "Then let me teach you a lesson." In one swift movement, Mr. Hart lowered his umbrella onto the table and flicked the glass back into the face of one of the men. He dropped to the ground unconscious, shattered glass surrounding him as the other four men turned to look at him in shock. One's knuckles turned white as he curled his fingers into a fist, another reached behind him for a bottle. Without waiting for them to gather their wits, I lunged forward, slamming my foot down the back of one of their knees. My hands finding one of the men's neck as I threw him backward, his head hitting the table we'd been sat at. Mr. Hart easily evaded a punch and hooked one of the men's collars with his umbrella, pulling him up as a body shield from the thrown bottle that sailed towards his chest. It shattered in the face of one of the men, knocking him to the ground. Mr. Hart smoothly ducked the punch of the second last man, shoving him in my direction, I caught his blind whirl of his fist, hocked him over my shoulder and flipped him to the ground. The man who'd been hit by the first glass let out a groan as he pushed himself up, reaching for the gun in his waistband. I lunged forward but one of the men grabbed the back of my collar. Spinning around I locked his arm in my elbow as he collapsed to one knee in an attempt to release the lock of his joint. Gunshots rang out as I glanced over my shoulder to watch Mr. Hart hid behind his umbrella, the bullets ricocheting off the surface. The man whose arm I held locked began to squirm, attempting to break free. Yanking him forward I hocked an arm around his throat, holding him still as I blocked his airways. I watched as Mr. Hart neatly disposed of the armed man with a projected slug from his umbrella. Slowly, he raised from his crouched position. Adjusting something with his watch before pointing at each man in turn, a small dark exiting his watch and piercing their skin. "I can handle myself." I announced, clearing my throat and reminding him I was still present. "You didn't need to step in, someone of us don't need flashy gadgets to do the job." Mr. Hart looked up at me as the last man in my arms lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground, proving my point further. "I know you can handle yourself. That's why I chose you as my candidate." He stated simply. "And the gadgets tend to make the job cleaner." He noted, glancing at the blood on one of my hands. I snorted at his comment before turning away, the smallest bit of satisfaction pulling at me, at least I'd gotten to punch one of them n the face. "I'll see you at the Kingsman Tailor Shop tonight, seven pm sharp." Mr. Hart announced, fixing his cuff before turning and opening the door to exit. "Mr. Hart." I called out after him, he paused mid-step, turning and glancing back at me. "Manners maketh man? You say that, but I'm not a man." "That is exactly what makes you so interesting." He stated simply with a small smile. "And Celaena, its Harry, not Mr. Hart."

[zlov989]

Kingsman: The Last Link (Full Fan Fiction)

Part: Prologue Original Wattpad Part: here Summary: She understood her worth, which made her powerful. The world gravely needed a hero, so she became one. No superpowers, just a woman who could kick ass and took no shit from anyone... Ce lost her life as special forces, all of her training and skills, six years worth, were left to root as she was removed from history. Retired, they called her, twenty-four years old and retired from the field. But when recruited by Kingsman, her old skills prove to be the only way she can survive. Undercover spy rings, world domination through mobile phones, mass genocide with recreational drugs, what could the title of first female Kingsman agent possibly bring? Pairing (long run): Harry Hart x OC Fandom: Kingsman Warnings: language, blood, almost death? Author’s note: This is my first time posting my work on Tumblr so if you’re enjoying it please give it some love. Otherwise please enjoy, if you’re interested in more of my work, I have more works and regular posts on Wattpad here.  Word count: 570

The air was thick with smoke, the scent of fresh blood and burnt flesh blowing in the wind. The flickering golden light from the flames the only light in the shipping yard. A woman slowly pushed herself up from the ground, her fiery red hair blackened with soot. She was the only the that moved, her shallow breaths the only noise that echoed between the bloodied bodies. A large shard of glass protruded from the flesh below her ribs. Gritting her teeth, she covered the open wound with a hand, the pain burned away at her thoughts. But she felt no fear of dying, no relief from achievement, and no fear of what came next. All the surrounding guards were dead, their bodies littering the ground, and everything that an been here was now a pile of ash. Taking a deep breath, she took one staggering step after another, away from the billowing toxic smoke. Away from the dead bodies of the drug gang. Dark blood leaked from between her fingers, as the shard of glass slowly stained darker shades of red. She was thirty meters from the nearest vehicle, from her way out. 

The sound of a gun's safety clicking off echoed through the silence. She froze, the cold hard steel of a gun barrel pressed against the back of her head. "Turn around slowly." A man hissed, taking a pain-ridden breath, the woman turned to face him. Within seconds, she recognised him as the gang leader, She'd spent months scouting him, learning his schedule. "Do you know who I am?" She asked, her voice shaking as the blood continued to leak from between her fingers. "To me?" The man questioned with a snort that turned into a violent coughing. Without readjusting his aim from her head, he wiped a hand across his mouth, black mucus covering his fingers. "To me you're dead." Before she could react, the man lowered the gun and pulled the trigger. The woman staggered back, the impact to her stomach causing her to lose her breath. Another shot rang out in the silence, and the woman waited for the pain to hit. But no new impact came. Slowly, she looked up to find a dark hole in the man's head as blood began to leak out of it and run down his face. Staggering backwards, the blood beginning to gush from the hole in her stomach, she caught herself on a set of crates. Her legs began to go limp as the blood began to soak her shirt. Collapsing to the ground, with shaky hands, she desperately tried to apply pressure to the bullet wound but the blood continued to pool on the ground. Her vision began to blur as she looked around desperately, blue and red lights flashed in the distance but her focus wanned and her sight began to darken. The sound of material flapping in the wind forced her sight to a tall figure that appeared ahead, walking towards her limp body. Her breath began to slow as the pain took over. She collapsed back onto the ground fully, the pain so much she was barely breathing. "Shit." The man swore as he crouched down beside her. "You had to go and get yourself killed, didn't you?" "Who... who are you?" The woman whispered, but before she could hear his answer, the world around her blackened with pain and disappeared.