BI - Ch.1 ¤ Apostasy

The whip-crack sound tore through the night. It was the first and last sound she would hear as she died.

I looked back through the scope to confirm the hit then put my gun to the side and let it cool down for a moment. I reached for the tablet in my backpack and sent an encrypted message back to the place I was supposed to call home.

"Target neutralized via shot through the neck, lethal damage inflicted, no signs of regenerations. Will move in to deal with the Soul Gem shortly."

I sighed heavily as I waited a while longer for the heat dispersion to continue. This is the kind of missions I hated the most, no doubt, but for some cruel reason it seemed like I just kept being assigned to them. Was it because of my MO? Was it because I was an outcast without any of those pesky 'friendships' to hold me back and make me hesitate when the time to press the trigger came? Hell if I knew, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know after all.

With the gun having now cooled down enough, I removed the spent capacitors and tucked them into a tube in my backpack before taking out another and replacing them with fresh ones. The whole process of cooling and replacing the capacitors was far too long to use in a firefight, but it was fine for me. It was the price to pay for enough stopping power to smack a mad Eversor dead in her tracks - so long as you didn't have the misfortune of missing.

I made my way down from the vantage point I had been hiding onto and reached the beach. It was deserted at this hour, and if it hadn't been then the sound of my rifle would have made any random bystanders reconsider their nightly stroll. I looked down onto the fresh corpse I had been ordered to make and sighed once more. I didn't exactly feel regret; the majority of the girls here at the 8th are maniacs so it's not like there'll be too much of a loss... Or at least I like to try and tell myself so. It doesn't always work.

I reached down and grasped the Soul Gem on the ground. it was red, just like my own. I clenched down my fist and winced slightly at the pain. It would have been simpler to just crush it with my boot, but I felt like it was too disrespectful of a way to go, so I preferred to do it that way. The cuts on my hand would heal in time.

"Retirement complete, proceeding with RTB."

I put the tablet back into my backpack and gave a customary inspection to my rifle. It was more of an obsessive habit than a real need, but I couldn't help checking every five seconds that everything was as it needed to be. I headed back at a quick pace. I didn't like staying on the scene any more than I needed to and even if for some sick reason I did then it would still be wiser to leave. After all it was possible that some of the civilians had called the cops at the sound, what the hell did I know?

====

The trip back had been uneventful. Actually I was so lost in my mind that I had been on autopilot for a while, not really registering the streets as they passed one by one. I would have been in some pretty deep shit if someone wanted to ambush me at that moment, but at this point I couldn't really give less of a shit. Retirement missions had that effect on me. To just... leave me feeling hollow and unsure of what the fuck I was doing; wondering where I had taken a wrong turn with my life.

Before I knew it I found myself sitting down at Burger Suplex. It was a decent place and close enough to HQ. The food was pretty good and I heard that one or two of us actually worked here, but I hadn't checked it out nor known the girls myself. I always ate a lot when I returned from retirement assignments, almost as if I was trying to drown my self-questioning in bacon and cheese.

I leaned back and took a small breath after the second burger. I took a long, slow sip of soda from the straw as I looked up to the ceiling and replaced a lock of my red hair that had fallen onto my eyes. I glanced to the door as I heard some people enter. That was a pair of Eversors, I was pretty sure. Looked like they were coming back from a mission too; unless all those cuts and wounds were just there because they were fucking around beating each other up. Then again I wouldn't exactly be surprised if they did have fun trying to kill each others.

I gave a look to their tattered outfits then glanced down at my own, almost pristine save for the dust and filth of having laid down on a dirty roof for two hours. Even then it barely showed on the mostly black cloth. My backpack and rifle on each side of me on the bench were in the same state. I unwrapped the third burger and took a large bite as I kept the pair in my peripheral vision and mentally prepared myself for the usual verbal assault.

You know, I'd have thought that coming back without being all beaten up would be a -good- thing, but most of the girls around here just gave me shit for it. Even other Vindicares liked to go in guns blazing with big pistols and automatics like it's a fucking Schwarzenegger movie. They keep acting like their wounds are some sort of badge of honor or "proof of courage". That's bullshit if you ask me.

I took another bite as they received their orders, chatting loudly, and kept them in my sight. Please fuck let them go away please fuck let them go awa--Fuck.

I barely had time to chase the food down with some more soda before they walked by, one of them sneering at me.

"Hey look it's the murder bitch." some blonde bimbo with giant udders managed to say in my general direction, earning a snort from her blue-haired companion. At least that one didn't look like she blew all her pay on implants.

"Fuck off" I snarled, tapping my left hand's fingers on the table slowly. "I don't need your shit."

"You don't need our shit? that's golden." the blue-haired one planted her hands on the table, nearly causing my soda to fall over from the tremor. "You don't even know how to fight for real, you don't even -deserve- our attention, so smile~ and lap it up." she flipped me the finger, I just rolled my eyes.

I took a deep breath and reached for my hamburger, glancing at it slowly before glancing back to the imitation blueberry. "You nervous?" I asked simply before taking another bite.

"Nervous? what-ever girl, you can't kill me in a thousand years so don't even dream about it." she was looking as irritated as I was. Good, it made feel a little better inside. "Actually I should just off you right here and now, the 8th'll be a better place without a shitty coward like you!"

Rookies, they get their contracts, they get their sweet little training, and then they think they're on top of the world. Yeah, sure in a straight fight even this idiot could probably kill me, but in the end she'd have to face consequences for it. Everything has consequences in this world. Even if you don't get punished by others, you might realize the burden only later.

"H-hey calm down, we're not supposed to cause too much trouble after last time." Well at least Udders had some common sense. "Besides this bitch ain't worth your time." Well fuck you too.

"It's not about straight fights, If the cat decides you're more of a problem than an asset, then you're fucked. Could be me, could be just about anybody else; doesn't matter. At least I'll have the decency of putting you out of your misery in one painless, clean shot. I don't take sadistic pleasure in inflicting pain like you bitches do."

There was a moment of silence. I sipped some more soda without looking at either of them directly.

"Let's just go" Udders rolled her eyes. "Before this stupid anti-fun queen starts infecting us with her Lame." Yeah sure, real mature.

Soon, but not soon enough, they fucked off and planted their asses at a table far away in another corner of the place. I could still hear their yapping all the way from here though. I'd need to be at HQ pretty soon for debriefing, but I still had some time. I unwrapped the next burger and took a large bite; three down, two to go.

====

I leaned against the giant golden eagle status in front of the Officio building and looked at my watch. Debriefing hadn't taken too long; mostly because I kept to the point and didn't indulge in any attempts at idle chatter. In hindsight that last point probably contributed to people seeing me as a cold bitch who didn't give a damn about anyone else. Oh well, what's done is done anyway and you can't change your nature.

I kicked away from the expensive ornament and started to head back to my place. It wasn't much honestly, just a cheap room at the Eight's housing units. Didn't really have the money to rent my own place since I was using all my money to feed my... research...

I stopped for a moment and brought my hand to my mouth to hide a sudden, long yawn. The fatigue hit me like a truck about around this time, partly from the lack of sleep and partly from eating too much. It wasn't anything new, but it was at times like this that I cursed my body's weakness. Even with the advantages that came with the Contract, I still felt just... inadequate and frail. Too human still.

Maybe that was why I always put so much effort towards tweaking and perfecting my weapons. Sure there was a good degree of pride and genuine interest, but... actually nevermind, I'm not going to go down my pathetic train of thought.

I dropped by the storage unit I had rented outside of Officio grounds to store valuable so they wouldn't get stolen in the housing area - after all when you have people who can punch doors off what good is a lock right? Fortunately enough, it was all in order. Actually I had improvised the place into my impromptu little workshop with most of the materials I bought and the equipment I had. Safety asides, it was good to be able to be relatively in peace when trying to focus on work. Especially for things that required care and precision.

I gave the fortune workshop a small, warm smile before closing back the gate. This place always managed to cheer me up a little; it was something I had set-up all by myself and where I could be myself without getting harassed by the bravado bimbos. It wasn't much, sure, but it was the closest thing to a real home I knew.

With that little detour out of the way, I reached the housing unit in little time. I ignored what little chatter and activity went on at this late hour and made straight for my room. People left me to my own devices for the most part and that was fine with me. When I nearly slammed the door behind me I had to resist the temptation to just flat out flop onto my bed and rest, because I knew if I did I would fall asleep for real. I didn't have that luxury at the moment.

I put down my rifle on the mostly empty work desk and set my backpack next to me before taking a seat. It was time for some proper maintenance. I couldn't afford to not do so because the smallest wear in the mechanisms or on the rails was enough to cause a breakdown the next time I would fire. I suppose I could always do it in the morning, but we never know when an emergency happens, so I prefer to stay on the safe side.

Besides, this is more than just a weapon, it's a partner that's been getting me through all the shit I've had to deal with, so I have to treat it with respect. I reached for a bottle of cold water in my mini-fridge and took a long sip, trying to wake myself a bit more with the cold sensation. I then put it back to make sure no accidental spills could happen.

Unlike my workshop, this work desk was pretty bare and only had tools and oils for maintenance and a handful of replacement parts, but that would be enough. The maintenance itself was pretty routine, but the real challenge was vigilance. There would probably be nothing, but I couldn't let the smallest detail or sign escape my eyes if there was. The fact that I felt like I could start nodding off at any moment didn't help either.

Why do magical girls even need sleep anyway? We get enhanced speed and endurance, even strength and healing for some, but we still have to follow basic needs like this. It's a bit laughable actually...

I managed to get through maintenance without wavering and readied everything back. I made a mental note to also clean and polish the outer frame in the morning, but this had been a long day and recharging the spent capacitors took priority.

====

I lingered a little bit in front of the Officio building after morning training, trying to gather my thoughts.

"Yuck it's the Executor, let's hurry along before she tries to off us." I didn't even look at who it came from. It didn't matter and I didn't care anymore. Those bitches try to kill each-others for fun all the time so why do I have to be getting shit for killing people when I'm ordered to? I'll never understand them... it's like I'm the only sane girl around... or maybe like an alien... is that how Incubators feel? Alone in the middle of a bunch of weird creatures that make no sense to them? I think I sympathize with the cats a little more now.

This asides, I had come to a decision. I had been doing some research in my free time -well, besides my usual research on weaponry- and I came across something interesting. I found out that there was apparently an Officio of people who shared my passion for weapons, amongst other things, and valued the skills of craftsmanship.

There was no guarantee that it wouldn't be filled with crazies like here, but even if they were, then at least we would have shared interests to find common grounds on and talk about. Hell, maybe if I actually befriended people like that, maybe they'd infect me with their Crazy so I could stop having this kind of inner monologues and just learn to "enjoy life" like the people here say I should.

"No Owens, bad thought." I whispered to myself with a sardonic tone as I started to walk back to my room in the housing unit.

It had rained in the morning, but now things had calmed down. my purple eyes looked tired in their reflection on the water, but I was fine. The more I let my mind wander and the more the idea of such a place obsessed my thoughts. It had been the case ever since I found out it was real and not just some cruel joke someone would have played on me. The real problem was that I needed authorization from the Warmaster.

That was honestly a meeting I dreaded. I had never really seen her in person, but still, someone who can keep this madhouse even just relatively under control has to be ridiculously strong and firm. They were also probably missing a few lights here and there and I was a little concerned that my request would make her feel insulted or something and want to kill me on the spot for the "offense". Well, that was just my pessimism talking. At this point I had nothing to lose anymore, so I would try and if it was denied I would wait the required time and try again and again.

I had never been a really stubborn person, but as time passed I found myself completely camped on the idea. Even if I did get my transfer it would probably turn out not so different on the other side of the Atlantic; life isn't so kind after all, but I guess that just the thought of having people to share my passion with was all I wanted. It didn't have to be grand, it didn't have to be great, just being able to relate with another "living" being again would be good enough.

I made it back to the housing unit and mentally muted out all the noise around me once more; I had an application form to fill.