Something about a Dangerous Woman

Lara opened her eyes and all she could see was a dim lit room. Barely anything except the chair she was tightly secured to at the center of the room. Deciding against doing anything stupid just yet, she tried focusing on the task at hand, freeing herself from the bounds. She perched herself up on the chair and concentrated on trying to unwind it. It took her a good minutes wrestling with the ropes until she realized the ropes seemed as secure as it was before. With very little patience to begin with, her frustration eradicated it all during her wrestling match. You'd think someone of her caliber would by now be used to these kinds of situations And then she heard it. Someone was calling and they were calling her. The calls, the tone, the rasp. That voice sounded familiar, way to familiar, creating an almost nostalgic atmosphere. She concentrated harder trying to identify the caller, maybe if she did it would make more sense. " LARA!! LARA!! Where are you?. Tell me where you're at!! A voice sounded from a rather fair distance away. "Lara!! Answer me princess !!! The voice shouted again, only it seemed to have gotten closer. it took sometime but after echoes of the second call, Lara knew straight away. In her 28 years of existence, only one person called her that. Feeling her breath leave her body. Lara knew she had to get out of there and find him. It was like every syllable from each sentence dragged at her heart. She had to move fast. “I guess it’s time to do something stupid" she mumbled and then began thrashing as hard as she could. " Andrew, Andrew!! I'm here. Help!! Andreww!! The tragic part of it all was that No matter how much she called, nothing came out. Not a sound. She repeatedly tried to the point where her throat constricted and felt like it was being sandpapered. Her self-inflicting humor spiraled out of control and for a second she thought, ‘if I ever wanted to feel this again, I could probably try eating a mouth full of sand. Might not have the same effect but close it’ She chuckled soundlessly. Eventually her tired throat couldn't take the sting anymore and her breaths turned to wheezes. She thrashed a couple more times hopeful. Maybe she would get to see Andrew again. Quietly steams of tears continuously flowed from her eyes. Realizing the distance was grating wider and the voice got smaller. She could almost hear the tiny shattering inside her chest. With hope dwindling, she tried again, this time her struggles becoming more vicious, to the point where it was gradually cutting into her skin And numbing her hands. Purple bruised swelled and pimpled her skin. Then it stopped. Everything went quiet as her mind started getting foggy. The last thing she could make out from her foggy vision was the crumbling walls around her. Lara felt the world got darker and her breathes shortened to a punishing pace. *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* She woke clutching her chest. Slowly sitting up. She tried calming the beating drums in her chest. Like a mantra, she repeated at intervals to herself, "Breathe Lara, it was just a dream" Feeling the train of dried tears on her face, she thought back to how real it all felt. Oh how she missed him. His smile, his voice, his singing, his humor. She missed him so much it hurt. If only she wasn't naive back then. She should have realized sooner that the life they chose didn't give them a normal reality. Instead it was a messed up one filled with power hungry fools and monstrous souls. It was survival of the fittest and hunt or be hunted. Now, the only thing she shares with that naive girl was the physical resemblance, but she was no longer someone who thought people could be trusted or that happily ever aftershave do exist in real life. She slowly moved her covers off her and walked across the padded floor to her bathroom. Pulling off a towel from the rack, she dragged her feet out of her rather ancient house and toward the creaking jetty. The restrained cues of the waves and the chirping of the crickets calmed the havoc inside her head. Stripping down to only a tee and her undergarments. She plunged into the water and swam from point to point as a warm tinge gradually colored the sky. Climbing out of the lake. She unhurriedly wiped herself and then commanded her steps back to her aged home. A place where although the walls have greyed and decayed and every corner was peppered with dust, it felt like home. The homey feels and the spacious interior aided in her desires to remain there rather than live in the city. After taking a nice long shower, she changed into one of her favorite black one piece outfit pulled altogether with a leather jacket and made a trip to the kitchen for breakfast. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich might make her day a little better and maybe a tad bit brighter. *Buzzzz* *Buzzzz* The phone vibrated on the counter during her diligent slanting over the stove. Pacing toward the counter she answered the call with an expressionless tone. "Speak" "Red, the higher ups want you to report to them at 9:00am. The content is classified and further discussion will be held during the meeting. Failure to show will result in punishment. Then the line went dead. Irritated with the disturbance. She man-handled her grilled cheese sandwich into a zip bag. Forget about a brighter day. Today was going to be terrible and it hasn’t even begun yet. "What do those senseless dictators want now" She trudged her way to her car and started her engines, making sure she calmed her mind, she took a couple minutes to herself before zooming off to headquarters. Once she arrived at the entrance of the building, she dragged her feet into the building and trudged from the lobby to the elevator. The eerie feeling in the dull colored lobby truly can ruin any good mood. The building had straight cuts of black and white and not the shiny whites you see in hotel lobbies, no. The kind of white you see in hospital wards or psychiatric institutions. The unwarranted stormy grey accents accompanied with the jungle red elevator didn’t at all help with the gloomy atmosphere, in fact the weird color palette makes the building in it's own twisted way look like a asylum and thus a subtle warning to normal civilian. Anyone with any ounce of common sense would know immediately to leave this building. Having lived this life for over ten years, Lara has reached her limit. The irony of it all was this was, she escaped one prison to only end up back into another. And this life wasn't one you could just walk away from. If you want to leave, than make sure you are truly ready for die. Lara was familiar with the protocols and rules. It was etched into her ten year old brain the day she joined the guild. Something she wished no kid should ever go through. Dejected she wadded to the elevator, the black leather jacket contrasted against her pale skin. Being born and/or raised In the industry, anybody and everybody would be familiar with your identity thus any change you undergo is monitored and controlled, and there was nothing you could do about it. There was only one problem though. After the loss Lara faced some time ago, she changed and for most people around her, it meant bad. In their eyes she has officially lost it and had become lethal, mad killing machine . Extremely hazardous and a risk just keeping around. It was as if one wrong move would send this savage on a rampage. Their thoughts accompanied with recent vicious acts she took to complete her mission, has led to this matter reaching the higher ups. Anyone lethal but not under control is deemed a liability and in this case, she was the liability. She had already concluded from observation alone that this meeting wasn't going to be a walk in the park. All she wondered now was what they would do to restrain or rather discipline her. Was it the dog house, or maybe punishment. Better yet, forcing a self sabotage for a trifle of enemy torture after completing the mission. The latter always guarantees 100% success rate if the others didn't. Not that it ever reached that point. This methods was the only way to control wayward souls. In a lifelong industry like this its better to have trained obedient dogs than wild wolves. This much, she knew. She only ever heard of one person that went through the latter but all information was classified regarding the matter so she never really found out much about it, only except that was it took place about two years ago. Regardless she didn't really care if they make her go through the latter. One can only hope the physical pain encountered overpowers the emotional turmoil that constantly shreds her insides every now and again. The elevator dinged, snapping Lara out of her thoughts. She looked up and caught a glimpse of large shoulders encased in a camouflage jacket stepping out of the elevator. Once the door shut the elevator continued its ascend. Once the elevator arrived at her floor, she got out and trudged toward the end of the hall, where the only door was located. She always found it hilariously ironic that the highest floor of the building was void of any color except white, and yet it was the floor filled with the worst of the worst. Maybe she should suggest they change the white to black. It would be a good representation of their souls. Not that she was any better herself. Finding it hilarious, she laughed and made her way toward the room. It was said those who walked into that room left in two ways. Alive and bloodied or dead and mutilated. Nothing more, nothing less. Once she reached the door, it opened. With a blank face, she heightened senses and became more alert to her surrounding as she entered the room, preparing herself for the worst. If they want her dead then so be it, but she'll be sure to go down fighting.