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Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 11-30-2008
DISCLAIMER: This story has literal AND graphical contents of violence, nudity and various mature subject. Read at your own discretion.
/////WARNING: This story contains violence and various mature subjects. Read at your discretion./////
A part of the storyline of
![[Image: 00NEOISAcopie.png]](http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll166/eodas/signature/00NEOISAcopie.png)
Isabelle Kaitlyn
------------------------------
Planet Houston had one reputation to be hellish during the summer period.
Isabelle did visit the planet ocasionally, but never like the way she was doing right now...
Her body ached... an insupportable close to the limit of human' endurance.
Like the howl of a desert monster, the voice of their commander came out from her comm unit;
"Don't stop!! Move forward!!"
"... y... sir..."
She had trouble controlling her breathing, her head was spinning. She saw double, and couldn't look much farther than a distance of a hundred meters or so - the deadly star of Texas would make her blind within seconds.
"h... how much more..."
It was a sigh so low, she could barely hear herself say it. But the fellow soldier probably guessed the question, and whispered,
"24... kilo... metres..."
They remained silent from then on, saving their energies, the weigh of their equipment enough to keep them shut. Isabelle could swear the multiples straps of her heavy anti-blaster armour were now printing permanent markings on her body, as she couldn't even feel the skins under which they were tied - tied, locked so no one could remove it from her back except the supervisors...
In fact, she couldn't really feel her body anymore. She didn't even felt herself sweating - probably all the water in her body departed since a long while... or perhaps they evaporated once they came out - she only felt her body was burning live and she could do nothing about it.
Her only option was to move forward - that, or death. Once you stopped in this deadly trail, you were gone.
Forever, as the corpse laying in front of them told them.
A dead candidate.
The White Wolves commander left the bodies of those who has failed and couldn't be rescued on the trail, as another weapon against their mind.
The doctrine was easy, the heavier you hammer your men, the better their defences get. In reaction to atrocity, they would be able to resist and fight back with full efficiency.
David - that was the name of her companion, was already slowing down pace. A quick glance told her the man was dehydrated in the extreme - but so was she.
Neither had water.
"w..."
The man fell, face on the sandy ground. Isabelle' legs continued marching forward, unable to control herself. She managed to stop after a while, and crumbeled on her knees.
She knew, for her survival, she shouldn't have stopped. David might have been able to go on along by himself.
Or not. She didn't knew.
But she couldn't get herself to abandon the man. Maybe she was weak, after all, what was she? Yes, the only female in an all man unit - all man for a good reason.
"w...ter..."
Isabelle looked at the exhausted man, and slowly shook her head. He understood, and sighed, his lips, damaged by the soreness and dry heat, bleeding. He drank from it, drop by drop.
The voice in the comm unit was, strangely, silent. Usually it would have been yelling at them already...
Isabelle wished it yelled at them. At least, it would give her the illusion she wasn't alone in this immensity...
They lied there for hours, Isabelle fighting to keep her eyes open.
The night fell, and the desert changed - from the hellish heat, it turned into a burning cold. She could feel her sweat becoming icy...
If she didn't do anything, both of them were going to die.
David was still inert on the ground, breathing weakly.
Kneeling next to David, she took out her knife, and managed to cut roughly on her uniform' fabric, a task that made her arm' muscle burn as if a plasma torch was activated at point blank range on it... tears of pain escaped her, as she continued, her exhausted body obeying her as best as it could. She cutted herself, and watched eerily the bleeding on her now rag dressed body.
-No. She had to focus.
With the large piece of cloth she cut down, she used it to clean a bit her body and that of David, so to remove the sweat. So the cold wouldn't kill them at once.
She then tied the cloth to the man' head, to cover it as much as possible. The head was one of the place most sensible to cold.
She was sacrificing herself, what with her body now naked save for the heavy armour plating she couldnt remove...
David turned to look at her, and attempt to speak, but only a whisper came out.
She approached her head, every movement like a dagger to every muscles she moved...
"... l.. ea... ve."
She looked at him, her expression exhausted, and shook her head.
But she realised it was too late. The man gave his last breathing.
She felt something in her break, something that should made her cry.
But no water could come out of her eyes.
She closed the eyes of the young man, her hand shaking under the emotion, as she tried to rise up...
And failed.
It is in the most desperate situation, in the wilderness and close to death that man would become the perfect killing machine. For at this specific moment, the deviouness of its natural intelligence would combine with the hunting instinct of the predator - an instinct we always had, but forgot as our civilisation was built of stone and wood of comfort.
However, when it is forced to back off to the state of the predator, man becomes the most dangerous creature the known world can find...
[...]
Later, she would be haunted by what she did that night. But on the moment, her head was blank of any thoughts. Morality couldn't pierce her in anyway as she used her combat knife and made a precise cut on the arm of the fallen soldier and with no hesitation whatsoever, drank the liquid of life, its crimson colour dripping on her mouth, on her dust covered armour, on her nude breasts, on her injured belly, and left a large puddle of dark blood on the sand.
She didn't even thought about the taste. Her body still ached, but she felt energised enough. She began walking again, her vision focused on the trail ahead, abandonning the bleeding corpse to its own, left to rot and return to the earth...
![[Image: imgkd5.jpg]](http://img88.imageshack.us/img88/8458/imgkd5.jpg)
She began walking again, her vision focused on the trail ahead
--
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 11-30-2008
White Wolves weren't known to the public. The general citizen of Sirius would think of the LSF as the most secretive of the undercover operation group, but in reality, the LSF was merely the top of the iceberg.
Maintaining the image of conspiration and suspicion, because under that layer of lies, was the nightmare of espionnage and intelligence warfare fought between four superpowers and two gigantic criminal organisations and all their satelite factions.
It was a game of strenght and intellect. The combination between brute and stealthy weapons.
It was why Liberty, against all its principles, against all the beliefs it propaganda sputtered days and night, against the concept of his own name, accepted, and ordered the creation of the White Wolves Special Operation units.
This, effectively led to the race between the Houses of Sirius to the creation of the super soldiers... fighting the shadow war no citizens would be ever aware of, and yet, determining the tide of warfare.
--
It was useless. Too many of them...
A single day has passed since the deadly trail in the desert. From the group of 100 selected liberty military officers to be part of the recruit training, only 11 remained. Many abandonned weeks ago. Even more abandonned now.
And three died.
Isabelle was still under shock from these event. She was wearing a new uniform, a new, clean set of armour... but she felt like dirt.
She didn't looked at those around her, for she was afraid of what they might think, what they might say.
When their companion fell, they did as they were ordered too... they left them behind...
And now she understood all the price she paid for staying behind...
She was going to pay with her sa...
The ruined wall behind her literally exploded, as the monstruous fist of the Combat Droid Type 54 smashed the concrete.
Isabelle was sent flying a few meters away, all her weigh and that of the armour. She felt blood in her mouth - and immediately felt dizzy, remembering...
She vomited the little of food that managed to enter her stomach that day, while from the corner of her eye, watched the robot approach her slowly, as if it was enjoying to torture the prey mentally.
She looked around, and saw that her blaster rifle was well out of her reach. Despite her iron fist discipline, which would never have allowed her blaster to drop away from her hands, the force of the explosion was just too strong for any human to endure.
She probably had some stuffs broken within her by now.
As such, she produced her small service pistol from the holster, and began shooting with accuracy, hitting the small holes that served as sensors for the unit. There were many, but as more of them were destroyed, slower the machine went, more hesitant its movements were. When it obviously wasnt able to diferentiate her from a nearby boulder, Isabelle ran to her rifle...
Something crashed on her shoulder, as she heard a loud "crack".
Another Type 54 that appeared out of nowhere it seems.
Or rather, the thing had been hiding behind that wall since the beginning...
This confirmed her beliefs they were indeed, manually operated. No machine had enough artificial intelligence to elaborate such a strategy.
The pain was nearly blinding her, but she rolled on herself - and every time her injured shoulder went on the ground, she winced in pain, but she continued nonehtless until she reached her rifle, and began shooting at this unit madly, set on rapid fire.
She breathed quickly as the ozone of the ionised air came to her nose. In front of her, only flashes of light and the ever darkening veil of pain...
She depleted all the energy within the blaster, and let down the energy magasine, to charge in another... but the machine, which looked wrecked, charged forward, sliped, but caught her by its armoured hand, trapping her...
Apparently, one sensor was still active...
There was no use to resist, as the machine seized her and sqeezed on her arms, her shoulders... she yelled in pain, yelled with whatever strenght that was still left in her... blood was gushing from her injury like a fountain...
The pressure ended, she fell unconscious.
Darkness.
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-01-2008
"Raah..."
The night was, as usual on arid, desertic worlds, harsh. The cold penetrated your skin like a thousand daggers, and the darkness, illuminated only slightly by the tiny moon of Houston, was most fearsome.
Of course, they knew of all this. The more cruel it get, the better it was.
She crawled on the sand, unable to move her feet - they were solidly shackled together, so were her arms.
It was her punishment, everytime she failed. To crawl 200m on the sand. A combat droid walking at a slow - yet it seemed always too fast, rythm, ocasionally firing a burst of blaster rifle shots barely missing her. She doubted the machine would ever kill her - but seeing the sand around her turn into molten glass wasn't exactly a comforting for her security.
She breathed heavily, going as fast as she could.
A beating everytime she failed...
Everytime she slowed down, the whip came down on her back. The sound of the whirling down always made her tense, anticipating the sharp pain...
Every time, a scream of pain would escape her mouth, and she would continue harder, until her muscles were unable to even support her lifeless mass, until her mental discipline was about the be cracked open...
And then she felt the taste of blood, because she bit her tongue in her last scream.
Her breathing stops, her eyes goes wide...
The content of her digestive system going backward, once again...
--
Isabelle sat on the cold floor, trembling - because the cell wasn't well heated.
"Stop moving!!" an officer ordered from the other side of the door, and she jumped back, smashing her back on the wall. She had to bite her lip to restrain herself from yelling, but tears of pain did escape her.
But she did decided to lie down on the floor, so the trembling of her hands and legs wouldn't cause her shackle to produce the monotone, metallic music...
She couldn't see a thing in the darkness. There were no light, nothing but a blanket in one corner she briefly saw when they kicked her in. Even the floor and walls were plain, no texture whatsoever. Blindly, she explored her environement and found the large piece of blanket - made of some rough, skin irritating material, but at least, it would keep her warm a bit...
She was left there, naked - because the rag of her clothings couldn't even be worn anymore after crawling so long on the sand, but the bandages they've hastily applied on her body nearly covered her nudity entirely.
Just why did she accepted to be there...
Why?
What was going on?
How could they do that to her?
Who were they to do that to her?
Were they the enemies?
They hide behind their robotic soldiers...
They never show themselves...
She closed her eyes, unable to support the darker than daknress' of the room. Chased her questions, for they were becoming more and more confusing...
She knew she was becoming paranoid.
All the things they were going through was killing their trust. They couldn't rely on team members. They were the one who might hinder your work.
Maybe they are the enemies, too.
Maybe David never died.
Maybe all what she lived was just an ill...
STOP!
She openned her eyes again. The solid floor was still there. Her hands were still restrained by heavy shackles, so were her feets. She still felt the painful whip' marks on her back. Her ears still heard the heavy blaster of the type 54 firing around her.
All these were real.
They turned them against each other... destroying the principle they learned when they first entered the liberty military, that was, team work.
Now, they would learn to operate alone... rely on themselves, cast suspicion on everything, anything. Doubt of all, trust only yourself.
She was aware of all this, and yet could only let the poison they created infiltrate her head, which would transform her into a deadly machine. A ruthless, killing machine.
Somewhere, a voice buried under her pain whispered
"Is this what I wanted to become...?"
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-02-2008
"Vengeance!"
She wasn't exactly sure how she managed to drop a kick at such astounding rate. Her reflexes seems quick, too quick for herself.
Finally, after weeks of forced captivity, harsh training and punishing, beating and torture, after weeks of inhumane condition, they were now told to prove their fighting skills.
"Vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance..."
She rained down her hits on her opponent, another candidate just like herself. The man, much more massive, would have been a formidable foe perhaps against another man of its size; its muscular power was certainly confirmed by his pair of strong arms, and these muscles probably served as shields stronger than concrete against the intolerable training they were going through.
But against Isabelle, the only female opponent he probably ever fought of his life, a young girl much smaller than the average male in the military, and which agility was uncomparable, he couldn't retaliate, only defend.
But defence only lasted so long, and the girl knew how to fight.
"Vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance vengeance..."
It was the only word in her mind, retaliate against her unjust suffering. Whoever was her opponent were those who ordered her to be punished, to be tortured. To be pushed beyong her limits, to witness death so close. She couldn't see but red, red of violence, vengeance, blood, she needed to KILL SOMETHING!!!
"Haahhh!!!"
Coup de grace.
Her legs seizing the man' head like a scisor, she twisted her body, the torsion causing incredible pain ot her trapped victim...
The man fell on the ground, inert.
Silence...
Isabelle backed toward the wall, shocked.
What...
"I never..."
There weas no one in the locked room, except herself, a camera and the young man in front of her, his face against the flooring.
He stopped breathing.
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-02-2008
"enough."
She had enough of it.
Her mind was broken, her spirit, violated, she knew.
No discipline in the world could possibly make any human being survive this sort of trial.
They were 100, they were now 2.
The last two survivors.
They would fight - to death? Maybe. She killed her last one accidentally. The others were expelled from the unit already.
So this was how rough the White Wolves were?
One selected candidate out of a hundred?
...
They fought viciously. Her opponent was a man, not much older than she was. About the same size, they were probably very well matched in term of agility.
But she was in a disadvantage, she knew it. First, this one was stronger than she possibly was. Her kicks, as powerful as they might be, only managed to make him wince.
Others would have fallen.
And second, the man had no moral whatsoever.
She knew it, by looking in his eyes, that he wouldn't hesitate to kill. This stare, very few people still had it in our modern society.
Those eyes, they were the eyes of the hunter, unscrupulous and capable of the most gruesome task in order to achieve its objective.
They emptied one on another their arsenal of martial arts, the hits going on like a machine gun emptying its magasine.
He seized her by the neck, couldn't breath...
She began seeing blurred, lack of oxygen, her muscles wouldn't obey her... she fought against his grasp, it was useless...
groan of effort, moaning of pain... the air smelled the sweat from bodies that hadn't been washed for too long, that made too much physical exercises...
For a matter of fact, whatever clothings they still had on them that wasn't completely torn away, some sort of bacteria were beginning to grow on them...
"aa..."
"AAaahhHH!!"
She thrusted, with her last effort, her thumb right in the eye of her adversary. The man yelled an inhumane scream of pure pain, immediately releasing her. She stood for a second, contemplating the eye, out of its socket, on the floor, which was immediately crushed by the wild trampling of the soldier. She took a deep breath, and this time, she was the hunter, the predator
the assasin, the murderer
"Hoaah!!"
The upper kick landed right on the neck of the man, she heard the bones snap.
He died instantly, his spine completely destroyed.
Isabelle collapsed on a puddle of blood. Vomited.
She had enough of this taste...
enough...
enough..........
enough.............................
Darkness.
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-02-2008
How many more would she be able to endure...
It looked like that old horror movie she watched in her youth, where the hero kept dying in suffering, then was immediately resuscitated, only to die again, and so on, indefinitely...
She had been suspended to the ceiling of her cell for... she couldn't know. She had lost count of time since too long. Did her nightmare began since a month? A year? Two year? Five?
How about that, she was only a clone soldier created just yesterday?
She bit her tongue as she restrained herself from laughing hysterically. No, she had to keep still until her tormenter came back...
Her body was covered with bruises and dried blood.
She knew she was miserable.
She was becoming hysteric.
"Losing it".
Something grasped her face harshly, fingers of steel...
"Shut up, number 8." the mechanical voice from the type 54 said coldly.
Isabelle remained silent for a moment, then, looking at the mechanical eyes, laughed out loud, unable to restrain herself anymore
"HAHAHAHAHAHA"
"...ahahaha..."
"aaahh..."
She continued laughing. She didn't knew why. There was nothing funny.
The type 54 remained silent, took a few steps back, and bought the punisher in striking position...
Isabelle suddenly lifted her head, her stare more agressive than ever suddenly, her lips in a predatory snarl;
"GO AHEAD!!! Hurt me as much as you can, I AM WAITING FOR IT!!"
The whirl of the electrically charged leather made her smirk in defiance, and she wouldn't flinch as the tip brushed violently her skin, creating another long strip of reddened skin.
She lived through all this...
She was the only survivor out of a hundred
Nothing could hurt her anymore - pain was a friend, death was her companion.
She was still smiling as the type 54 dragged her out of the cell, her beaten, naked physical body barely functioning anymore.
But within, her mind had built an indestructible fortress with stone as dark as the Abyss.
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-03-2008
The trial was over.
Usually, a ceremony, a parade would have been made with all the candidate that achieved the trial; it was so in any other military unit. But since White Wolves only took one candidate per trial, there was no need for this.
Since it was her first year of service that deep within intelligence, she wasn't allowed to go home. She would be under constant surveillance, at any moment, a camera might be watching what she was doing. No private life - but that concept, she abandoned since a long while ago anyway.
Her dormitory was quite normal, small and spartiate. She shared it with another man, captain - rank wasn't too relevant in the White Wolves, everyone had the same treatment and a captain might as well sleep in the same room than a lieutenant.
And the mix of gender in one same room didn't seems to bother anyone in the least.
Isabelle sighed, feeling numb as she dropped her possessions on her bed.
Her hands were blood stained...
She had no trouble with killing legitimate targets. She had a dozen of confirmed kill, made in various operation in Liberty. Having seen the friends of her childhood being burned by the space pirates helped her maintain a deep image of hatred and revenge imprinted within her that helped her kill with no questioning. What she did was right.
But, killing fellow soldiers to survive?
She should have died with them...
"Survival - this is how man works."
Isabelle turned around, surprised by the voice. It was a man, perhaps in his mid forties, wearing the dark combat uniform of the White Wolf. He extended his hand, a half smile on his face, neither warm nor cold, just... a half smile void of sense.
"Captain Karl Adamas. Congratulation, and welcome among us."
Isabelle shook his hand, somewhat dazzed by the contact with a living being finally... ever since the end of her trial, she had been under the care of robotic being. She spent a whole week in a medical facility, completely sterile, where a group of robots performed various operation on her body to fix the various injuries she had accumulated. No longer were the scars on her soft skin.
But those on her hardened heart were still there, painful and open.
"Lieutenant Isabelle Kaitlynn. Thank you, sir."
She smiled weakly, uncertain, but seeing the man didn't gained much more emotion, her smile faded slowly...
"Still feeling guilt?"
"Yes sir."
"Don't. Forget about all the good consciousness the outside world taught you. The real nature of the human being isn't like that."
He smiled, another void smile, but his eyes shone with intelligence.
"Let me explain you something. Please, sit down, be comfortable."
"Let us acknowledge human beings are animals. Those who deny this fact are pretentious, they believe our intelligence places us above every other living beings. This is not true."
"We are beasts. We might hide our aggressive nature behind the hypocrite polite habits we are taught since our youth, and control it with a government, a set of laws... these are all very nice. But these are details."
"Look at the greater picture. What do you see?"
"You see selfishness in the form of democracy. The people, despite individually pretending to be good, vote for a candidate where they pay less tax."
"You see liars in the form of the medias to feed the ambitions of others."
"You see sides killing each other: murderers. Taking the life of others violently for a so said good cause."
"Yes, in the smaller details, we have differentiated ourselves from the animals. We do not act irrationally with our instinct, but think with numbers and complex mathematics. But look, look how wars are started."
"Ah, you start to understand do you."
"See, human being lives only to achieve survival. Survival, because at our creation, we were a race unable to provide for ourselves well enough. Survival would sometime take various form such as greed when nothing threatening happens. But in the end, it is our body, our primitive little voice telling us: do more to survive."
"See, this is why some people in the libertonian society are obese." (small laughter)
"So, consider it this way."
"Liberty is one individual, and its survival depends on you. You are Liberty' left hand. The one holding the dagger. The dirty hand."
"Without you, Liberty' survival is doomed. Without the body that is Liberty, you, the left hand, you are nothing."
"Anything you do for survival is righteous. If you need to put aside the other left hand so you can stand in front because others might fail in your position, you must do this."
"Otherwise, Liberty' survival is compromised, your survival is compromised."
Isabelle nodded.
"I understand, sir. But I cannot morally agree with this."
Adamas seemed to expect that answer,
"Morality is a human invention. It can vary very fast or very slowly. A murder can, one moment, be legitimate, another moment, a murder, another moment, a sacrifice, another moment, an anaesthesia. Do not base your thinking process on morality, for it does not exist in our world."
"And which world is the real one, captain?"
"You decide, Isabelle Kaitlynn. You decide."
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-03-2008
Isabelle felt somewhat intimidated, but she didn't show it at all. She stood straight, proud, her eye looking ahead, never flinching.
They were about a hundred of them, White wolves, all of them officers like herself because all candidates were the top performing lieutenant in the libertonian military. She happened to be the youngest, and only female.
The room was silent the moment she entered it, and all looked at her with these predatory eyes, full of defiance and, at some extend, hatred. She knew it was another trial, this time among them as a unit.
She went to a nearby chair, and sat down, seemingly untroubled by the silence.
They continued to stare at her, and then, little by little, they returned to their matters, some chatting in low voice with others. Captain Adamas, which she hadnt spotted til now, came to sit next to her. He looked pleased.
"You laughed during your punishment. It's a good sign."
Isabelle looked at him, surprised.
"You..."
"Yes, of course. I was your supervisor."
"Y... you were the one behind the type 54?"
Adamas nodded casually, as if they were discussing about the weather outside.
"We've lost a lot of potential candidates because they cracked at this last stage. I must admit, it is very hard. I went through mine without even remembering how it hapenned. It is interesting to see how people deal with pain resistance."
Isabelle remained for a moment silent, then smiled slowly,
"Why do you say it is a good sign?"
"You've developed some taste for pain."
She reflected on the statement.
"Pain is my friend. A very enjoyable one at that."
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-04-2008
"Hyperion to leader, in position."
"Received, over."
A few moment later, the comm unit clicked again,
"Hyperion, proceed, comm is oscar."
"Leader, received, over."
Isabelle focused on the environment in front of her and seeing no targets on sight, lowered the visor of her helm. There, her sight was already much better.
They were on planet Los Angeles, in one of those district you would never have doubted of the existence. It was many stories underground, for the city had developped eventually over an abandonned mine so large it became. In this cityscape canyon of dizzying heights, built over platforms and platforms of urban structures, the higher levels were where the riches and the famous resided and, well the lower sections...
who know?
Isabelle never went so low in the planet. The place was dark, even during the days, because the number of platforms above hid the sun from penetrating this surface here. As such, the air was damp, humid. Because the city' waste pipes passed by this underground, a smell of decomposition was ever present in the air.
The things which lived there were wretched, she thought, remembering the drunkard she previously saw on the staircase of a residential apartment, virtually about to fall down...
The lower class of libertonian society strived there.
And also, was it the hideout of a number of criminal organizations.
One of which has grown too dangerous. Way too dangerous.
The Outcasts.
--
Isabelle was all alone in this sector of the street. No one knew what was down there - no LPI patrol that was sent further down that concrete stair ever came back. All around them, disfunctional pipes from different building were emitting from time to time vapors and whatever other gases, none of which seemed too healthy.
It also made an excellent camouflage for whoever wanted to make an ambush.
She went in, her rifle ready, looking around. No one on sight.
She reached the end of the alley, which ended in a prolongation of a smaller road. Two persons only could go by shoulder by shoulder probably. She looked around one last time, no, there were no snipers hidden behind garbage containers, no snipers hidden in the darkness of a lamp post...
She silently attached her bayonet to her weapon, doubled clicked her comm to signal the first part of the way was clear, and went forward.
Proceeded in the small road. It was a world of old, cracked concrete and rusty steel pieces... exactly the sort of place you dint want to visit. The perfect hide out to make your transaction quietly.
Still nothing. She exited the alley and, finding the nearest place where she could find cover, hid herself behind an abandoned wooden crate, in a good state of decomposition.
She did right, for immediately as plunged behind her screen, the rattle of a blaster rifle was heard, and lances of red energy beams were seen in the darkness of the night. She saw briefly that, from two old construction, came out many more men armed with their automatic weapons.
First thing first.
She rose her weapon, took a good breathing, shot the man in the heart. Obviously, it wasn't a professional. Probably a mere mercenary you hired for a few thousand credits per week. And now, the rest...
Setting her gunfire on rapid fire, she openned fire wildly while rolling her body on the ground, moving toward her enemies, which tried to pin her down with their own weapons, but couldn't manage to hit in the panick and the darkness of the night.
When they were only a few meters away, she jumped to her feet, and with a single hand, threw her weapon right in the chest of the opponent in front of her, the bayonet going deep within him. She rotated her weapon violently on its horizontal axis, and kicked the corpse; the blade was lost in the body, causing the man immense suffering as he emptied himself of his blood. The others around seemed shocked by her prowess, and she nearly felt sorry to kill them. Rookies, the lot of them.
The nearest enemy was seized by his neck, slammed on another one before being shot in the neck, which used the last ammunition of her rifle' energy magasine. It would take too long to reload another. She took out her combat knife, and as the slightly knocked out man turned around to shoot at her with a small arm, she propelled the blade into his skull. His expression of surprise remained on his face permanently as blood began dripping. Isabelle kicked on the head to retrieve the blade, and adopted combat position for anyone else who might come at her...
But for the moment, her opponent ran away, screaming in fear.
Double click on the comm. Second part cleaned up...
She proceeded to the next clearing, removing some skull bone remains and pink brain matter from the hilt of her knife unconsciously...
Les Loups Blancs - Xing - 12-05-2008
Kill them.
She didn't enjoyed it.
The outcast looked dazzled as the door behind which he was smoking some cardamine narcotic was smashed down by a female soldier in dark armour.
Behind laid the other guard, his throat slit, blood gushing from his injury. The smoking outcast widened his eye, he was so focused on his task he didn't noticed...
Kill them all.
She didn't think she did enjoyed it anyway.
The man fell down, nearly beheaded. Isabelle cleaned the mess on her knife. It seemed every time, the blade became darker and darker...
Leave none alive.
It was her task. She did it not for money. For what then?
In the end of the corridor was another door - behind it came the voices of many men. Listening a few seconds on the door made her realize it was probably a small "garrison" defending the criminal hide out. For she believed this concrete building to be the place; all the defence seemed to be aligned this way. Unless it was a trap. But she was ready to take the risk.
In front of the door, she deployed a claymore mine, and moved back to the gate where she came in. Aimed, and shot with her small arm at the door of the door behind which the men where. She heard panicked voices, noises of chair thrown on the floor, the metallic noises of blaster rifles being hastily taken from their rack...
At the last the door openned.
click.
No prisonners.
The mine exploded as she pressed down the remote control. A flash. Screams - everything was over. No explosion, barely any noise except the slushy sound of metal traveling through human bodies and the muffled death-scream of the victims, as the thousands of tiny shards made of diamonds pierced through the bodies of everyone in the room who were rushing to come out.
Isabelle coldly wandered around, verifying everyone was dead rapidly, yes this one was definitily done, his skull literally exploded... this one as well, he didn't even had eyes anymore...
"h... hhh...n...!!"
She looked toward where the voice came from. An outcast, what was he doing...
His belly was cut wide open by multiple shards, and his intestins were laying there, bloody sausages gushing blood...
and the man was there, trying to keep them from falling, his face in shock of horror, his whole body covered with blood.
Isabelle approached, took out her knife. The man looked at her, pleading, about to scream
"Stay silent, and your death will be swift."
He didn't had time to respond, that the knife already was deep between his eyes.
She looked around. And felt nothing, but a very empty, cold void deep in her heart...
"I lived much worse... they should be glad to be dead."
"They've never been to Hell" she said out loud as she picked up her knife and went further down the building.
Double click, sector clear.