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| | | Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< |  |
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kieran c:
They're over 9000!
Posts : 13885
Join date : 2008-08-28
Age : 25
Location : Washington State
 |  Subject: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4<  Mon Mar 07, 2011 1:57 pm | |
| Introduction
- Spoiler:
RPCentral, or RPC, as affectionately nicknamed by it's fellow members, isn't your regular, everyday website. It sure looks that way on the outside, but if you haven't learned by now not to judge a book by it's cover, then you sure aren't going to survive in this world. This world is filled with betrayal, and backstabbery, and lies. And you think you can take it, you think that, hey, you've made it this far, it can't get much worse. But the thing is, is that it can almost always get worse, and if you're lucky enough, it most definitely will. But we'll get into that later, dear reader. We need to start at the beginning for you to understand.
RPC, from the point of view from a regular person- perhaps even you, dear reader- is just a website. Something that was created, something that was made, and now exists on the Internet. In the world of pixels and megabites and whatnot. It doesn't look all that exciting, a "roleplay" website by the looks of it (what roleplaying is isn't important, reader, now shut up and stop asking questions so I, the author, can continue with the ominious beginning, alright? That's what I thought).
RPC from the point of view of one of us- yes, I'm one of them, reader- is very, very different. RPC isn't just a website, a "roleplaying" website. No, RPC is the only thing connecting a network of highly trained agents.
Of course, none of us knew what we were, very literally, signing up for. Who would? It's not like any of us actually read the terms of agreement when we joined the website. It's not like we knew. If we'd known, if we'd known...
RPC is, in essence, a way for the "agency" of sorts to get their agents. Only, what's the word... Special? Let's go with special. Only the "special kids" (and yes, only kids) could actually join the website. Something in the way they'd created the website, and something in our genetics, in our blood, makes it that way.
We became the best of friends, us members of RPC. We grew close over a mere couple of years. We chatted, we emailed. We got through every bump in the road for our tight knit group... And of course we grew close. It was in our genetics, something drew us to one another... Even through the computer. RPC, it brought us all together.
A couple years later, something... Something happened. Saying it was a trip gone "wrong" is an understatement. A few of us had already been drafted to the agency, already gone on a couple errands (they were errands compared to the real missions, the missions we went on in later years). They weren't allowed to tell the others- the one's who hadn't been drafted to the agency. The trip was planned, we later found out, to bring us all together and get us. Nothing is as it seems, dear reader. Nothing is ever as it seems...
We thought it was amazing. What kid wouldn't want to be a secret agent? Looking back, we were stupid. So stupid, so, so stupid. We were blinded by the prospect of adventure, of fame.
We had the chance, in the beginning, to quit. To throw in the towel, to never give it a shot. We weren't going to do that, that would be insane! That would be the biggest mistake of out lives, giving up so easily! In the end, agreeing to be an "agent" of the agency was our fatal mistake.
RPC brought us all together, yes, but in the end, it also tore us all apart.
Every single one of us. The main agents. The one's who'd show up on occasion. Every single one, just pawns in a game to be used and discarded. None of us really special, not in the end, but essential to a player's gain.
Lauren Mallory.
Rebecca Lillian.
Jacob McNight.
And me, Annabelle Marie Jones.
Other's, too, dear reader, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, now...
Chapter One
- Spoiler:
Looking at it brings back too many memories, her therapist (and her breakdown in the middle of the office) had confirmed that. Her therapist didn't know how to deal with her, she'd heard them talking one day after an appointment. Her mom and the therapist, chatting it up, talking about how crazy she was. They'd used the words "broken" and "fragile", but seventeen-year-old Annabelle Marie Jones wasn't stupid. Never has been, never will be. "Broken" and "fragile" are words you use to soften the blow when calling one "crazy".
Looking back at RPC brought back too many memories. Late night chats between her and her "friends" (or was the friendship they'd had been fake, too?), old messages they'd exchanged with their emails, their phone numbers. Messages saying happy birthday, or get well soon, or even private jokes they'd shared... All of it had taken only seconds to break.
That was one thing that she'd learned throughout all this. That everything was fragile, that everything could be broken. Everything could be bent to a point where it'd finally snap. It wasn't the kind of problem you could solve by punching the bad guy and saving the hostage. No, this was a different kind of problem entirely, one that was much, much harder to solve, and one that was even harder to survive.
But Anna had survived. And sure, there were nightmares. The things that made her terrified to go to sleep at night, the things that caused her to wake up screaming. Or crying. Or so terrified that she had to turn on the lights and sit in the middle of her bed until the sun came up and she was absolutely certain that nothing, none of the shadowy monsters her head had dreamed up, could get her.
What were those shadowy monsters that stalked her sleep? Not anything big. Nothing with ferocious teeth or deadly claws. No, her inner demons were people. People she'd been close to. People she would've given her life for. These people weren't themselves in the nightmares, or were they? Anna wasn't sure of anything anymore. They'd been used, she was sure of that. The agency didn't care, she was sure of that, too. In her nightmares, these people, these people she'd been so sure of six months ago, hated her. Wanted her dead. Didn't care, they just didn't care.
Shivering, although it wasn't cold, Anna wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself. Holding herself together, if she was honest with herself. Trembling, she tried to slow her rapid breathing as fragments of memories flashed through her head. Her heart pounded in her chest for a few more minutes until she was able to calm herself. The pale, clammy-looking girl looked small, sitting on the large, green velet couch in her living room.
Although she knew she shouldn't, she decided to let her guard down. Remember what had happened almost six months ago. Going back on the memories (the memories responsible for her being so "broken" and "fragile"), however painful, reminded her that this was real. That she was a person. That she could feel.
It started with Jay. They, as in her, Lauren, Rebecca, Jacob, Daniel, and Jay had gone to Paris, France, on a trip. It was summertime, then, and according to her parents, the agency she'd been living at was a boarding school, out for summer. Her "parents" had bought her and her friends tickets to go to Paris, France. It had been exciting, needless to say. Who would pass up a chance to go to Paris?
It'd all been fake. A set-up, courtesy of Jay. Jay was an ex-criminal who'd gone "good" (so they'd thought...) and had sent the tickets to Anna, making it seem as though her parents had sent them. He needed to get her (and the rest of the agents) far enough away from the agency, onto his turf, so that they couldn't fight back as well.
And it'd worked. Gosh, how it'd worked. He'd pinned them against one another, then him and his creepy little girlfriend, Miranda Sanchez (also a criminal, SHOCKER, right?) had kidnapped Lauren Mallory. Her best friend. Er... Her ex-best friend, now, she supposed. They'd tortured her for hours on end, until finally, the rest of them had shown up. ... To be creamed during the fight, tied up, and tortured as well, not that they'd known that, at the time.
They'd been there for two months. Two. Whole. Months. Day after day, they'd been tortured. Jay and Miranda had done everything in their power to hurt them. They'd used the agents as their personal punching bags. They'd taunted them. They'd driven all of them to the edge of sanity, and in some cases, over the edge. For two entire months, they'd been trapped. Nobody had come to help them, nobody can come to rescue them. They'd been on their own.
Finally, finally, someone from the agency had come to get them. It'd taken over two months. Two months of agonizing pain. Two months of horrific memories, burned into her head. Two months of being completely and utterly alone.
When they'd gotten back to base, emotions were running high. Relief, at finally being rescued from the abandoned warehouse, relief at finally being home. Anger, too. Definite anger. Anger towards the agency, who'd taken two whole months to disbatch a rescue team and successfully extract the agents from the hostage situation. Anger towards one another. Anger towards Anna, herself, for leading them straight into the trap. Anger towards their indiviual selves for being stupid enough to let Jay manipulate them and pit them against each other. Anger towards one another, too. For not helping the other when they needed it, for making it every man for himself when they needed each other the most. Anna didn't know how to put the last emotion into words. The words "broken trust" were the only words that came to mind, thinking back. The knowledge that they weren't really weren't that important, that they were just puppets, controlled by the agency. Puppets who could have their strings cut at any given time, puppets who had no choice. The fact that the agency had proved that they weren't to be trusted. The fact that the agency had proved that they didn't care what happened to them. That had broken them, in the end.
They didn't quit, though. Not right away, they didn't. At first they tried to go back to normal. Most of them were thrown into a specialized therapy for the traumatized and possibly mentally deranged. Some were put on medication to control the flashbacks, the hallucinations, and, in her case, the nightmares. But none of them were given a break. It was training session, after training session, after training session. Never a break.
Then they'd been sent out on another mission. Shortly after they'd (finally) gotten back to base, they were put in therapy, medicated, trained without break, then thrown into the midst of another crisis. That had been the mission that they all realized it couldn't go on any longer.
They had been ambushed, if Anna's memory served her right (which sometimes, she doubted it did, sometimes, she wondered if she'd been so messed up that her brain was trying beginning to confuse reality and fantasy). They'd been attacked while patrolling the perimeter of a suspected gang hideout. They'd been spotted, then out of the blue, ambushed.
Jacob and Rebecca didn't fall into their familiar fighting pattern. Annabelle and Lauren didn't stay back to back, helping their friends when they needed it. Daniel didn't help with one of his possibly-life-threatening-but-brilliant plans. No, every single agent had turned and ran. Lauren had shoved Anna into the line of fire and sprinted. Rebecca and Jacob tripped over one another trying to get away. Daniel had fired once, to scare the enemy, then hightailed it out of there. They'd lost their cool. They'd turned on each other.
Every man for themselves, Anna thought glumly as she traced the scar on her shoulder from the bullet wound. If they- no, she, she'd done it all on her own, after all- hadn't gotten herself to a hospital when she did, she could've bled to death. So they said. Who knew who was telling the truth and who was lying, nowadays?
When they got back base, they fought. They yelled at one another, they screamed and raved. Some of them cried- including her. Lauren and her had argued for what seemed like ages until slowly, gradually, their voices had dropped in volume. They'd stared at each other for a long while, then they'd both turned heel and left in opposite directions.
That's when they'd quit. When they'd all given up. The agency kept their therapy and medication running for them- nobody wanted a lawsuit, after all- but after that, they'd had no contact with the agency, with one another.
So now, six months after the fiasco in Paris, and a mere four months after she'd quit the agency and handed in her shiny gold badge, here she was. Sitting in living room on an early Tuesday afternoon, not bothering to drag herself out of the house to do something productive with her life. After all, without the agency, without her friends, what did she have?
Anna had given up everything to the agency. Her life, her family, her friends. All to be used and abused, tossed aside when they decided she wasn't worth the effort anymore. She'd gotten her mother to sign the papers, to her, they'd looked like paperwork to allow her into a boarding school. To Anna, however, they'd been what they were. Paperwork for the agency. Signed over her soul to the devil, that day... In a sense. She'd left her highschool, left her friends of over ten years, left her life back in Seattle. All for her new friends, all for the agency. All to chase a dream that would later turn into a hellish nightmare.
Blinking away the distant memories, Anna hugged herself tighter. Her house seemed too... Too weird. Too big, too empty. Her mother was at work, and her father... Her father had been dead for over ten years, now. Still trembling slightly, she decided she needed something to distract her. Something to take her mind off of things. And her medication, she needed that, too.
Getting up off the couch stiffly, Anna walked over to the cool, marble kitchen counter. Snatching up her pill bottle, she shuffled over to the cupboard, pulling out a bright blue plastic cup and turning on the sink to get some water. Shutting off the water after about half a minute, she gripped her cup and plastic bottle tightly in each hand as she made her way back to the kitchen counter, where her laptop sat open, on the RPC homepage.
Setting her things down, she scrolled through the homepage, her computer humming softly. Nothing new. Not that she could tell, at least. After a brief moment, she reached the end of the page, where it would normally show the members online. Just her, and a couple "guests". Probably just some mundanes looking at the website out of boredom, not that they could join, or anything. And then there was always the "new members" thing to look at, although there were never any new members. Not since... Anna couldn't quite remember the last time that RPC had gotten a member, but it had sure been a while.
That's why when, instead of the usual "no new members", a small notification at the bottom of her screen said "five new members since you last logged in", Anna Jones's eyes flew open wide. Something had to be wrong. It had to be a fluke. That couldn't be right. Simply couldn't. But there it was, right on her screen...
* * *
Life had never exactly been what you'd call "normal" for Lauren Mallory, but it had never been this bad. Never once in her life had it been quite this bad, but here she was, holed up in her room. Her regular old bedroom, in her regular old home, in Iowa. Not her room at the agency.
Thinking of the agency made her feel an irrational rush of anger. "Irrational" wasn't quite the word she was looking for, though. "Irrational" was a word you used when you shouldn't feel that emotion, but you know what? Feeling the burning hot hatred that she did towards the agency was something that she did feel, and she wasn't going to fight it. They'd proved what their priorities were- keeping their butts safe- and now it was time to figure out her priorities. Her main priority was keeping herself safe, now, she supposed. Keep herself safe, if not sane (although she wasn't entirely sane anymore, so there was nothing to do about that part).
Lauren was good at making herself seem angry, she learned. Angry instead of sad, because if you were sad, you were weak. You were vulnerable. When you were vulnerable, you would fall for lies easily. So instead of wallowing in self-pity, she decided she'd feel angry towards everyone and everything else.
In fact, she was doing it right now. Feeling angry. As she thought back to the agency, back to her so-called friends, she began to feel sad. Sometimes, when she thought about things like this, an overwhelming sadness would threaten to engulf her, which is why she'd developed her anger more. Her anger could overpower her sadness, her anger could make her feel numb and take away the pain of the sadness.
The fight with her ex-best friend, Annabelle Marie, was still fresh in her mind. Even four months after, it was still there. Tattooed to the inside of her eyelids, haunting her every single second of every single day. More so than that, the memory of her pushing her friend into the line of fire.
It had been an accident, she told herself, over and over. An accident. An action of fear and panic, nothing that she should feel guilty about. It wasn't her fault. If Anna hadn't been standing right there, than maybe she wouldn't have gotten her, she decided. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew it was her fault. All her fault that Anna had been shot, all her fault that she'd almost died. All her fault.
"No, it's not," Lauren said aloud. To herself, nobody else. "It's not your fault. You were scared. You were panicking. You didn't mean to hurt her, you didn't mean to." Her voice wasn't as strong as she would've liked it to be, but it didn't matter. Not right now.
"Stop lying to yourself, Laurie. You know it was all your fault," Another voice argued with her. Stiffening, she turned her wide blue eyes in the direction of the sound. The voice, the all too familiar voice. The one that was with her most often. The one that mocked her. The one that tried and often failed to make her feel better, too.
"All your fault." Jay Simmons cooed, his tone close to one of mocking affection. "You almost killed your best friend. You, Lauren, nobody else." He smiled at her, his icy blue eyes twinkling.
He's not really there, Lauren told herself. It'd what her therapist had taught her to do when she had hallucinations. Just tell yourself that it's not there, just ignore it. It'll go away. It'll leave you alone.
"No, I won't," Jay replied, although his near-solid figure wavered just slightly. "I'm not going away, Laurie. I'll be with you forever, and ever." He flashed another award-winning smile. "I could go away, if you want," He offered.
"Please," Lauren pleaded, forgetting everything she'd learned during her appointments with the therapist. Maybe if she reasoned with him- with the hallucination, she corrected herself- he'd go away. He'd leave her alone. "Please, go away. Leave me alone. Please, J-Jay?" Her voice cracked and her eyes stung with the oncoming onslaught of tears.
"I would," Jay allowed. He was talking agonizingly slow, leading her on. Giving her false hope, only to crush it with no more than a few words out of his mouth. "But I can't. You're keeping me here. You want me here, Lauren. If you didn't, you wouldn't have hallucinations of me more than anyone or anything else, now would you?" He allowed himself a small laugh. "I bet you even have a crush on me," He cooed softly, his icy eyes sparkling with satisfaction at her dismay.
"No, I don't!" Lauren cried, much, much louder than she'd intended. "Leave me alone, leave me alone!" Grabbing one of her pillows, she chucked it at him with as much force as she could muster. It didn't affect him. It passed through him, causing his figure to waver, then solidify again. The pillow hit the wall with a soft thud. "Leave me alone! Go away, Jay! Go away!" Lauren was sobbing now. The sobs wracked her weak body, causing her to shake, the tears streaming down her face.
Finally, she threw herself past him, off the bed, and onto the ground. Landing with a slightly louder thud than the pillow had, she was in hysterics. Kicking her legs at nothing, yelling at the top of her lungs and sobbing as if she was in pain, Lauren threw a fit like a small child who was unhappy would.
"You're not real! You are not real!" Sobbed the broken girl, snatching the pillow up and throwing herself down again. Covering her head with the pillow, she sobbed into the soft pink carpet that had been in her bedroom since she was twelve. "Leave me alone, leave me alone!"
Jay was at her side, looking unphased by her fit. He sat cross-legged next to her, leaning up against the dresser as if he was really there. He patted her back, trying to soothe her. At first, she tried to kick at him, but her legs just passed through him. He waited until she calmed down enough to stop kicking at him- not that he felt it- to stroke her hair softly.
"If you're throwing a big fit about me, then I have no idea how you're going to handle the real problems." Jay muttered under his breath, shaking his head pityingly at the pathetic, sobbing mess on the ground.
"Wh-what?" Lauren sniffled, pulling herself up to look at him. "Wh-what did you say?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," The dark-haired hallucination replied with a dainty shrug as the door to her bedroom opened. Her mother, who looked nothing like her, in his opinion, appeared in the doorway, wringing her hands.
"Laurie? Who were you talking to?" Her mother asked softly. Carefully. She to tread lightly around Lauren, she knew. Her daughter was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off if she said one thing wrong.
Lauren stared at her. Then she turned to look at Jay- to her mother, she was staring at the dresser blankly- then back at her mother. "Y-you... You don't... You can't see him... I-I..."
Her mother wanted to cry. Throw herself down on the ground and cry, much like she'd seen her daughter do time and time again. But she didn't. She had to be brave, for Lauren's sake more than her own. "The doctor- er, the therapist- er, whatever you want to call it- said you should start writing down your... Your, um..." Her mother didn't know what to say. Hallucinations? That could offend her, and god forbid another fit...
"I don't want to. Not if you can't see them. Not if I'm the only one who can see them." Lauren said flatly. Her face was emotionless, a guarded mask. A thin one, at that. One that would surely crumble as soon as her mother stepped out the door, as soon as the door closed behind her.
"Okay, okay." Her mother said quickly, nearly cutting her off. "You don't have to, you don't have to. I... Your medicine is on the bedside table, Lauren, if you... If you need it," Was all her mother said before she practically fled from the room, shutting the door behind her.
"They can't... They can't see you." Lauren mumbled, looking lost as she turned her attention to Jay. The Jay that wasn't really there, the Jay that was probably much nicer than the real thing. This was the Jay she preferred. Not the one who tortured her half to death.
"We've been through this before. Only you can see me, because I'm not real. I'm a figmet of your imagination, a hallucination, Laurie," Jay said slowly, softly. As if he were speaking to a small child. "C'mon, it's time to take your medication." He urged her.
Lauren reached a shaky hand over to the bedside table. Fumbling with the cap on the bottle, she turned to Jay, looking frustrated. He sighed warily, putting his hands on her's, he helped her open the cap. In reality, though, it was her opening the cap. Nothing he did helped her to do any physical activity, but he knew that she felt it did, and he tried to make her feel better any way he could.
Shivering, she shook two pills out into her hand. His hands always felt cold to her. If she could feel them, weren't they real? Weren't they there? Blinking as she tried to wrap her head around it, her hands shook as she put the pills in her mouth and lifted the cup of room temperature water to her mouth.
"Sorry for teasing you about crushin' on me earlier, Laurie," Jay said, sounding almost sincere. As sincere as a hallucination could sound, y'know? "I know, I'm irresistable," He flashed her a cheeky grin. "See 'ya later!"
Lauren watched him, her eyes still watery. Swallowing the pills down, she stared at the spot where he was sitting. He remained there for a moment or two, started to fade slowly from sight.
Mumbling something to herself, she let out a shuddery breath. "You aren't real. But... B-bye, Jay."
Jay managed to give her a weak smile before he faded completely from sight, and then... She was alone.
* * *
Rebecca Lillian prided herself in the fact that she was pretty darn tough. I mean, it wasn't as if she was one of those blonde bubblehead's who caked makeup on every morning before they went out in their bright pink sports cars with their purse-puppies to go get a mocha frapachino, then complain about how eighty-four pounds was so overweight and they should cut down to only two hundred calories a day or something.
No, Rebecca Lillian was the kind of girl that rolled out of bed in the morning, grabbed a gun, and was ready to go. Ready to handle anything, ready to pull the world back from the brink of utter disaster. Ready to save the day, just like always.
But that was the key word. "Was". As in "had been" the kind of girl that rolled out of bed in the morning, grabbed a gun, and was ready to go. Without all the adventure, the fame... What was she? What was there in her life? ... Absolutely nothing.
Staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, her head began to ache from the music blasting out of the crappy speaker that was hooked up to her ancient iPod. Sure, she could turn it down. In fact, she could turn it off, but music was the only way she found that she could distract herself.
From the memories... The pain...
Two months of agonizing pain. Two months of being driven to the edge of sanity. Two months worth of scars, covering her arms, her legs, her shoulders... Burn scars, covering large parts of her back, of her right side, near her stomach. Two months worth of being absolutely and utterly alone...
"I touch the fire and it freezes me... I look into it and it's black," Rebecca began to sing. Loudly and off-key, she was certain, but it didn't matter. As long as the memories went away. As long as the pain, fresh in her mind, went away, it didn't matter.
"Why can't I feel? My skin should crack and peel... I want the fire back..."
"You could never sing," Her ex-best friend was there, suddenly. Lounging in the bean bag on the other side of the room. Jacob McNight was shaking his head in disappointment. "C'mon, Becky, you've had so much freetime, and you can't be bothered to drag yourself to some singing lessons?"
"Now, through the smoke, she calls... To me..." Her voice was rising, but it was shaking. She was shaken, seeing him there. But he wasn't really there, she knew. He wasn't real. Not this him, not the him that appeared so often to mock her and her pathetic existance.
Jacob let out a sigh. "Shut up." He said flatly, his face impassive. No expression, no emotion, could be found in those deep blue-green eyes of his. "Shut up, Rebecca." He growled lowly.
"To make my way across the flame..."
"You're not a freakin' vampire slayer. You're just a crazy girl, cooped up in her bedroom because her mother's too embarassed to take her out of the house," He said harshly.
"To save the day, or maybe melt away..." Her voice was so loud, now. It was as if she were yelling, really. Yelling, trying to fight off the demon she knew wasn't there. Not really.
"Pathetic," Jacob critisized. He let out a soft laugh when she stared him, her peculiar green eyes watery.
"Wh-why d'you hate me? Wh-why can't you just leave me be?" Her voice trembled. By now, she sat up, her hands limp and useless at her sides, as if unsure of where to be, what to be doing.
"I'd leave, Becky. But I can't. You're keeping me here, darling," Jacob smiled at the traumatized girl who sat on her bed, trembling violently. He tapped his forehead. "I'm all in here, Becky. All in here."
"Leave me alone." Rebecca was pleading with him. Pleading with herself, if you thought about it. After all, the boy sitting a mere couple of feet from her was all an illusion given to her by her sick, twisted mind.
"Fine, you pathetic girl. I'll leave you alone. For now, at least." He shook his head, as if he pitied her. "If you can't even handle the things you bring upon yourself, you're in for some big trouble..." Jacob murmured softly, then disappeared from sight.
"B-Bye." Rebecca murmured. Then her voice faltered and trailed off into the nothingness that stretched out in front of her for what seemed like the rest of her life.
* * *
His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He stared at the blank email, his ex-best friend's email address already typed into the "to" bar. His email was automatically put into the "from" bar. A thin line blinked on the white screen as he pondered whether or not to actually write something.
Of course, there was always the chance that Rebecca would just refuse to reply, even if he did sent an email, Jacob McNight reasoned. Not sending it, in that case, would do him a favor- save him the disappoint- in the end. But on the off chance that she did decide to reply to him, although he doubted it greatly, he would've missed out on the chance to talk to his best friend. His ex-best friend, if you wanted to get technical.
To write the email or to not write the email, that was the question.
Write the email, he decided. Couldn't hurt, could it? Sure, he'd be stung if she didn't reply. Sure, he'd be stung if she did reply with the few "choice" (meaning nasty) words she probably had for him.
It couldn't hurt. Not real pain. No, Jacob had dealed with real pain over the course of two months. Real pain wasn't his ex-friend calling him a few names. Real pain wasn't his ex-friend not bothering to talk to him. No, real pain had been those two months. Real pain had been the fact that they weren't even worth enough to the agency to be saved until two months of torture. Very literal torture.
Yes, those two months was exactly what real pain was. Those two months had taken a definite toll on both his physical, emotional, and mental health- as well as stability. Sometimes, he wondered what was real and what was fake, because after the hell that the agency had put them through, he wasn't sure what to believe.
One, he knew that the agency didn't give a rat's behind about what happened to them. If they died on a mission, or got stuck in a hostage situation and tortured half to death, oh, well. They weren't important enough. They weren't worth the effort.
Two, he was sure that nobody- none of the four core agents, which included Annabelle, Lauren, Rebecca, and himself- had been in contact with one another in four months. (Had it really been only four months? It seemed like a million years ago...)
Three, he was positive that the agency was going down the toilet. It's not as if there was an overflow of "special kids", like themselves. It's not as if they had any new agents- couldn't be. Even if there happened to be new agents, none of them would be as strong as them. None as useful as they thought they'd been. They'd been top dogs, he knew that. Without them, he knew, or thought he knew, that the agency would fail in a matter of months.
And four, he was messed up in the head. His mind had been stretched to it's limit during the torturous two months. He knew he was in bad shape, but he also knew that the rest of the agents- Rebecca, Lauren, even Anna- weren't any better.
The only difference was that he was sad. Unbearably sad, at times. Some days he though that the sadness would crash over him like a wave and drag him out to sea, and some days, it did. Some days, he didn't bother to drag himself out of bed. Some days, dealing with life just seemed to be too much.
Depression, they called it. The therapists, the doctors. Everyone who'd gathered 'round to diagnose the half-sane boy known as Jacob McNight. Depression. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed. It was such an ugly word. He was sad, not depressed, he told himself.
Just sad, Jacob thought, as he shut his laptop closed.
* * *
"All anyone talking about is them.." Spat the tall, lanky girl standing just a little ways away from the four other teenagers gathered 'round in her bedroom. She stood facing the window, staring out at the articfial sky. It made most of the agents "feel better" to think that this was a real building, not a top secret base that was, in all reality, underground.
"Someone's hostile, eh?" One of the boy's remarked good-naturedly, casting a small, almost caring smile in the direction of the girl. The girl didn't return it.
"Hostile?" The girl asked, her voice almost shrill. Whipping around to give the boy a glare that looked as if it could kill, she shook her head. "Hostile? No. Absolutely freakin' furious and ready to kill? Maybe a little."
The boy's eyebrows furrowed over his troubled eyes. "This is... Taking it's toll on all of our nerves," He said slowly. He seemed to be picking his words carefully, keeping his tone mild- as if speaking to a small child. "But listen to yourself. You're pinching a hissy fit over them. They aren't worth it, El... They aren't worth it."
The girl seemed to size him up for a moment, then relaxed her muscles. Her shoulders slumped as she nodded stiffly. "I know," She said, her voice faltering. "I know." She said more confidently, nodding to herself. "It's just... We're supposed to be on top, now. We're supposed to be the big heros... Not them."
The boy sighed, walking over to her. He put his arm around her shoulders gently, nodding almost understandingly. "All Anna Jones, Lauren Mallory, Rebecca Lillian, and Jacob McNight are are dellusional, washed-up quitters. Don't worry, as soon as they see what we can do, nobody will be talking about them anymore. Nobody..."
Chapter Two- Spoiler:
If her ex-best friend, Lauren Mallory, decided to hit her, Anna knew without a doubt that would hurt like heck. Her ex-friend had deadly aim, and, when motivated enough, could do just about anything. Whether it be beating up the bad guys to painting the perfect flower on her toenails when her and Anna would schedule "girl-time" together (something that was far and few inbetween when they were friends, and nonexistant, now), she could do it. And then, five seconds later, Anna realized that that whole thought was ridiculous. They were going to be talking over the phone (granted Lauren actually picked up when she realized who it was). There was no possible way that Lauren could even touch her. Even with that in mind, her hand shook as she clumsily dialed her ex-friend's phone number.
After a couple rings, she wondered briefly to herself if Lauren was ignoring the phone call. I mean, if the situation was reversed, Anna would definitely ignore the call. Whether it be from Lauren, or Rebecca, or even Jacob, she wouldn't answer. Not after everything. And then she lost her train of thought and began thinking about what she was going to say. What was she going to say? I mean-
"Hello?" Suddenly, a familiar voice crackled through the speaker of her phone.
Jumping, startled, it took Anna a moment to collect herself and (try to) calm herself. It was just Lauren. Lauren-who'd-pushed-her-in-front-of-a-speeding-bullet, Lauren.
It was dead silent.
Nothing could hurt them, nothing at all. Just a routine check-up on this seemingly abandoned warehouse. Supposedly it was a hideout for a gang popular in this area of town, but from the looks of it, it was empty. The only noise was the tap, tap, tap of four pairs of shoes on the concrete flooring and their slow, steady breathing.
Suddenly, a door flew open. Suddenly, there were three times the amount of people that they had. Suddenly, confusion and panic and downright fear was spreading through them like a wildfire.
What were they supposed to do?! They didn't know, they just didn't know... So they panicked.
The brown-haired boy and the girl with the peculiar green eyes turned 'round and fled, running like the hounds of Hades were on their tail. Their legs pumping, their muscles working, the air roaring in their ears. Escape, escape, escape.
And then it was just her and her blonde best friend, but the girl beside her looked just as panicked as Rebecca Lillian and Jacob McNight did. Panicked and confused and utterly terrified for her life.
They both saw him at once. A black-haired boy. His skin was fair, his face small and heartshaped. His sky blue eyes would've looked so innocent, so trusting... If they hadn't been glittering with malice. If his lips hadn't been curled into a triumphant snarl. If he hadn't been holding a gun and pointing it right at Lauren.
His finger was on the trigger. Lauren stared, her eyes wide with utter horror. Her brain was telling her limbs to move, but it wasn't working. Nothing was working. She was a deer caught in the headlights of a car.
His finger pushed down on the trigger and released it. The bullet was a blur. Things seemed to slow down, as if the moment was happening in in slow-motion.
Lauren was turning towards Anna, her arms outstretched. Her eyes weren't as wide, weren't as frightened. It was clear she had a plan. Maybe to dodge the bullet, grab her friend, and run as fast as their legs could carry them.
... That wasn't exactly what Lauren had in mind. The blonde girl grabbed Anna by the shoulders, jerking her. Her grip was surprisingly strong, her fingers digging into her shoulders as she moved her. Anna stumbled, suddenly where Lauren had been standing miliseconds later.
Everything moved at a regular speed now. The bullet whizzed towards her. It was too fast. Too close. There wasn't enough time for her to move, to even think above moving...
The bullet hit her shoulder. Breaking through the stretchy black fabric of her t-shirt, as well as her skin, she watched the blood well up and seep through the fabric of her shirt. It should've hurt, but didn't. It did later, though, so she blamed this brief feeling of numbness on the adrenalin pulsing through her veins intensely.
As she stumbled, one hand clasping her bloody shoulder, her eyes blurred with angry tears, she caught sight of Lauren as she sprinted for the exit. Stumbling again, then lurching forward, she saw the blue-eyed boy watching her, his hand held up, as if to stop the other's from firing at the weakened girl.
"Let 'er go," The boy said as she half-tripped, half-ran for the exit. In the midst of the slow pain that was creeping from the bullet wound down her arm and the anger towards her so-called friend, humiliation bubbled up inside of her. Anna was an agent. Anna was not supposed to be brought to tears by a mere bullet wound, inflicted by a boy who looked barely her age.
"Won't Ellis-"
"Is Ellis here right now? No, so shut your traps."
Anna had made it to the door and lurched through the threshold, stumbling over her own feet as if she were drunk. The cool air greeted her face, making her whole "don't-puke" plan much easier, but causing her wound to sting horribly-
"Hell-oo?" The girl on the other end of the phone- the girl that was most definitely and without a doubt Lauren Mallory- sounded irritated and impatient. But didn't she always?
"Uh, er- S-sorry. Lauren?" Anna stammered, unconsciously brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face and tucking it neatly behind her ear. Trying not to hyperventalate, she waited for a reply. It was several minutes before she recieved one.
"A... Anna? Is that... Is that you?"
"Um. Kind of?"
"Kind of?" Anna could almost imagine her friend quirking an eyebrow sarcastically, her gaze condescending, her mouth curved into that mocking half-smile of hers.
"What do you want?" There was no beating around the bush with Lauren Mallory. If there was nothing important that her ex-friend had to say, then she was hanging up. There was no need to continue hurting herself by having to talk to Anna, having to remember what she'd done...
"I-I... Five new members joined RPC," She finally explained. Slowly, hesitantly. Uncertainly.
"... And your point is?"
"There wasn't supposed to be anyone else! There wasn't supposed to be anymore of... Of 'us'," Anna mumbled, trying to justify herself. "I... I thought it was... Was weird." Her finish was lame, and she herself wasn't impressed with her half-stuttered answer. There was no doubt in her mind that Lauren wasn't going to be impressed, either.
There was a brief pause.
"You're right," Lauren said hesitantly. "It is odd. But still... We have no proof that any of them are, y'know, 'bad' or whatever."
"What if I told you I did?"
Another pause. "... I'd say that whether or not I believe you depends upon the evidence."
"I can show you. Thing is..." Anna lowered her voice. "I think my phone is bugged. Same with my computer... I think they're still watching us, Lauren. In case we try and... I don't know. Do something they don't like."
"But we quit!" Lauren insisted incrediously. Something sounded false in her voice, even to her own ears. Even she didn't believe what she was saying. Of course they'd bugged Anna's phone. Her phone was probably bugged. Heck, there were probably hidden cameras in her house.
Anna just laughed dryly. "That means absolutely nothing, Lauren. I know it, you know it."
There was a slight pause. A slight shuffling noise on the other end.
"I can be there in half an hour, Anna. If, y'know... You wanted to show me t... the, uh, proof." Lauren was uncertain. Anna had been one to recklessly and haphazardly do things, not like her. No, she made sure she worked on whatever it was until it was absolutely perfect. Trusting Anna was a risk, but hey, what else did she have to do? Still. It made her uncomfortable talking with the girl on the phone, what would it be like when they were face-to-face.
A pause on Anna's end. "Uh, mm'kay. See... See you, then?"
"See you then."
Both girl's hung up the phone and it was decided. They were going to be in the same room in less than half an hour.
This would definitely be interesting.
Chapter Three- Spoiler:
"You have ten minutes to explain to me how these newbies pose a threat to us."
Lauren was itching to get out of there, and fast. Being here, in this oh-so familiar house, with that oh-so familiar dark haired girl, was making her twitch. She felt small and exposed, for the house was much, much larger than her own.
Anna sat on the couch, cross-legged, while she typed away at her laptop. Her eyes were glued to the screen, and if she'd heard Lauren at all, she didn't show it. Her fingers flew across the keyboard until finally, she looked up. "C'mere."
The other, blonde-haired girl, approached uncertainly. After all, they were all mentally impaired. What if this was all a ruse to get her here? What if Anna was about to lose it and murder her, or something? The living room was next to the kitchen, which, by the way, was stocked with knives and forks and other silverware/potential murder weapons... Forcing herself to relax, Lauren came up behind Anna, leaning over the back of the couch. All that showed on the laptop was a page full of numbers and symbols.
"I figured it'd be easier to save it in code," The dark-haired girl at the computer explained patiently. "Seeing as how half of my electronics are bugged. I did try and figure out the worm they used. I found it, of course, but I can't figure out a way around it... If Jacob was here-" She stopped herself at once. The other members was a touchy subject for the both of them. It was best not to bring it up- she knew, at least for her, it triggered nightmares and hallucinations and all sorts of wonderful things. Coughing, as if trying to cover it up, she glanced at Lauren, who was staring at the computer.
"That looks like gibberish." Lauren said flatly, ignoring her comment about Jacob altogether, although she winced visibly at the mention of 'em. She knew for a fact that Anna was messed up in the head, just like her. This "code" of hers could merely be the ramblings of a mad girl.
"That's the point," Anna replied mildly. Glancing back at her ex-friend, she waited for any other snappy or sarcastic remarks. When she recieved none, she started to read aloud. "This is the kid I was most concerned about. His name is listed as Andrew Hart," A pause. "But according to every search engine to ever have existed, he doesn't exist. He doesn't come up anywhere. I can't find a birth certificate, school records, dental records, nothing."
"The kid used a fake name. Big whoop, Anna," Rolling her eyes, the other girl started to walk away. Ooh, a fake name. How many times had she and Anna used fake names, just for the heck of it?
"And this is his picture." Anna said, clicking on a link in the gibberish filled file. The picture took a moment to load, then popped up on screen.
Lauren glanced at the picture, continued to walk, then did a double take. Wh-what? That wasn't... That couldn't... No way. This was not happening. "I-I-It's him!" Yelped the blonde hair, her eyes wide with horror. "It's... H-He... Oh my g-g..." Her voice trailed off into silence.
Jay was there, suddenly. Not the real Jay, of course. The Jay that only she could see, the Jay that was a figment of her imagination. This Jay liked to annoy her, but this Jay cared about her, in a sense. Or maybe it was just her caring about herself? The boy was a figment of her imagination, of course.
"Shh," Jay soothed, touching her shoulder. "He can't hurt you now. Laurie? Shh," He soothed, rubbing her back, to which Lauren flinched away from, her eyes still wide.
"Go away!" Lauren cried, shoving Jay. He didn't stumble. He didn't even look phased, maybe a little hurt (how could a hallucination feel, though?), but nothing more.
Anna was staring at her. "Lauren?" Her eyes were just as wide as hers as she watched the girl shove at something. Something that she couldn't see, something that wasn't really there. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shown you the picture. I know it was too soon-"
"Why are you worried about me?" Lauren was incredious. "That boy's the one who shot you, not me. You should be the one having a mental breakdown." Her words weren't meant to be harsh, or even condescending, just factual.
Anna nodded grimly, pulling back her shirt sleeve to reveal the scar. "He was the one."
"We have to tell the agency! I-I mean... Someone could get hurt if we don't. There's no way they could know, they didn't have any files on any of 'em when we went on the mission..."
There was a strange fire in the dark-haired girls eyes. A fire that hadn't been there in all of her years at the agency, despite the many trials and tribulations she'd faced. "No. They deserve it. All of them. They all deserve to die."
Lauren couldn't help but feel the same. Not quite as much as Anna, not as much as to want them to all die, but they definitely deserved it. Why should they be warned? They hadn't done anything for them, had they? "You're right. We won't warn them," Now, there was a malicious twinkle in her eyes, too. "We'll take them down ourselves... But we'll need help."
Anna smiled at her. A half-crazed smile, her eyes bright with the prospect of taking care of the very reason she had gone off the deep end. "Looks like we're going on a roadtrip."
Last edited by RAINBOW on Mon Apr 04, 2011 1:54 pm; edited 7 times in total | |
|  | | Rebecca
The Admins
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| | | | | kieran c:
They're over 9000!
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Mar 07, 2011 8:50 pm | |
| - Rebecca wrote:
- ... I kind of feel like that prologue kicked the butts of anything I've ever written.
Uh, yeah, can you PLEASE write the first chapter? And post it? XD
Here's  you deserve him and a cloning machine to make as many as you want. That was AWESOME. WHY THANK YOU, DEAREST ADMIN. -bows- XD But seriously, I'm really, really happy you like it so far. I'm in the airport and have some free time, so I'll get working on the first chapter now~ | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Mar 07, 2011 9:39 pm | |
| DUDE.
REDUDUTTERVSXDRETCYEFDCTEUDSXCKUTGFDRYEIDFVGCXRETRYEDUJMHCUTRF.
SPAZZMOMENT.
MORE.
AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. | |
| | | | kieran c:
They're over 9000!
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Mar 07, 2011 9:41 pm | |
| - Vixen wrote:
- DUDE.
REDUDUTTERVSXDRETCYEFDCTEUDSXCKUTGFDRYEIDFVGCXRETRYEDUJMHCUTRF.
SPAZZMOMENT.
MORE.
AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. I'm working on chapter one. (: AND THANK YOU, DEAR MODERATOR. -bows- LOL. you better love me. D:< | |
| | | | kieran c:
They're over 9000!
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Wed Mar 09, 2011 7:58 pm | |
| | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Wed Mar 09, 2011 8:35 pm | |
| LONG CHAPTER.
BUT SUPER DUPER EPIC.
WOAH. | |
| | | | Rebecca
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Thu Mar 10, 2011 11:19 am | |
| Holy mother of a plantain.
THAT. WAS. AWESOME!
XD
No,no, I mean, ohmygoshhhhhhhh. Branch! XD
My part? I started SINGING. IN REAL LIFE. YES. YOU KNOW ME SO WELL. -glomps-
And that chapter was insanely long. XD AND I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT. | |
| | | | kieran c:
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Thu Mar 10, 2011 11:25 am | |
| @Vixen: WHY, THANK YOU.
@Rebecca: THAT'S THE SONG I WAS LISTENING TO AS I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER, SO I FIGURED, WHAT THE HECK? AND GAVE YOU YOUR OWN SOLO.
... heheh. | |
| | | | kieran c:
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Sat Mar 19, 2011 1:11 am | |
| | |
| | | | kieran c:
They're over 9000!
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 1:55 pm | |
| UPDATED~
although nobody reads this anymore~ | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 4:45 pm | |
| I READ IT.
FYRCUVGTHYBI.
PWN. | |
| | | | kieran c:
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 4:48 pm | |
| | |
| | | | Rebecca
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 6:10 pm | |
| | |
| | | | kieran c:
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 6:58 pm | |
| ROAD TRIP~
to oregon and tennessee. XDD | |
| | | | Rebecca
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 7:09 pm | |
| NOW WHATEVER COULD BE IN THOSE TWO STATES? | |
| | | | kieran c:
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 7:45 pm | |
| | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
The Admins
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon Apr 04, 2011 10:08 pm | |
| HMM. I DON'T KNOW.
DO YOU? | |
| | | | Rebecca
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Tue Apr 05, 2011 10:29 am | |
| MAYBE NINJA LLAMAS?
I DUNNO. -SHRUG- | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon May 30, 2011 12:32 pm | |
| | |
| | | | kieran c:
They're over 9000!
Posts : 13885
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Mon May 30, 2011 2:31 pm | |
| I'm thinking of starting it up again this summer. I don't know yet. | |
| | | | ❝ lauren ❞
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| | Subject: Re: Computer Friends 9.5: Break -- >UPDATED: 4/4< Sun Jun 05, 2011 11:42 pm | |
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