A
AmberStar
Guest
It felt like there was a storm coming, and in a way there was.
Heavy clouds hung over the city, adding to the heat in the streets below. In amongst the traffic one car zipped smoothly between the lines of cars. Not speeding as such but clearly in a hurry to get to wherever they were going. The car's windows were down and the warm breeze was sending the long dark hair of the driver dancing merrily behind her. Her expression, however, was anything but merry. What would have been a pretty face was wearing an expression of quiet fury. Her mouth forced into an angry line and her eyes narrowed. Reaching an intersection she didn't even attempt to brake as the lights changed. Tyres squealing slightly as she took a corner and came to an abrupt halt. Closing the window and leaving the car parked in the street, she strode away with a plain envelope in her hand and nothing more.
She wasn't dressed for the heat, that marking her out from the crowd as much as anything. A tailored blouse with an equally well fitting skirt that skimmed her knees, heels that were fractionally higher than would perhaps be considered sensible making her hips sway back and forth at a determined pace. On her chest, an I.D. badge bounced with each step.
Into a building that from the outside didn't look much different from the others on the street, she stepped into the lift that was located just inside the door. There was nothing but that lift. No way out. Pressing her thumb to the pad inside, the doors smoothly shut and the elevator began to rise.
When it came to a stop it opened to reveal a large lobby behind which was a long corridor, visible through a set of glass doors. At a desk before the doors sat a pretty blonde.
She didn't pause at the desk, ignoring the plaintive pleas of the receptionist, she pushed through the glass doors and stormed down the corridor, half hearing the blonde's desperate conversation over the phone as the doors swung back and forth behind her.
"No...wouldn't listen....don't know...get security?"
She smiled, slightly, as she reached the door at the very end of the corridor, certain the man whose office lay on the other side would be the man the receptionist had called. She knocked and opened the door without pause, smiling a little more as she saw him replacing the phone's handset as she did so. He looked surprised but not worried.
"I'm gone." She said bluntly as she crossed the room and dropped the envelope onto the desk before him. The man behind it looking from her face to the envelope and back again.
"Now, now, number 6, why don't you sit down and we can talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm finished and that's my letter of resignation. I have nothing here I want to take with me, all my personal effects have already gone home." One carefully manicured nail, not too long but definitely feminine, tapped the envelope. "I've signed a disclosure form, nothing from the agency has left this building with me. No sensitive material. Nothing. Not even a stapler."
"If you feel you need to take a break, I'm sure we can work out some leave-"
"No. I need to leave. Period. I won't bother the agency as long as the agency doesn't bother me."
"It's not as simple as that and you know it, number 6."
"Stop calling me that," she said quietly. "I'm not number 6 any more. Find another agent to do your dirty work for you."
"Don't do this, number 6!" he called after her as she turned on her heel and stormed back out of his office, not seeing that he was already reaching for his phone before the door had shut again behind her.
Soon enough she was home. Her little apartment. She'd already packed everything she wanted to take with her and put everything else she cared about into storage so it was pretty empty but it felt so good to know when she next walked out of the door, she wouldn't be coming back. She had a one way ticket, in a false name, to the West coast, a few more flights would follow that. A few more changes of name, and then out to a small string of tropical islands in the Pacific where she could finally relax, far from the reach of the Agency.
Glancing at her phone and trying to work out whether there was time to shower or if she should just go straight to the airport already, she realised something was wrong. There was a quiet hissing sound, like the slow sad sound of a deflating balloon. Frowning she glanced around and spotted the almost invisible mist drifting down from the air conditioning unit in the corner.
"Shit!" She quickly wrapped her arm over her nose and mouth as she dashed towards her door but it wouldn't open. She tugged and tugged, fumbling with the latch which she knew she hadn't dropped when she'd come home.
Her vision was soon swimming and the light began to fade.
“You can’t…” she began to no one in particular before she crumpled onto the floor, her words left hanging in the air. She didn’t move when the front door opened. She didn’t move when they lifted her from the floor and carried away from her home and away from her life.
*~*~*~*~*
When she awoke the first thing she was aware of was that her head was killing her and that her throat felt as if it was full of dust. With a groan she rolled over and all but fell out of the bed. The shock making her jerk awake far quicker than she would have liked.
“Fucks’ sake…” she muttered, irritated, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair and over her face. She felt as if she was on the wrong end of an all-night party when she knew she had done nothing of the sort. As much as she’d been looking forward to quitting she had no celebrations planned, no drink with friends to mark the end of her life as a number. She just gone home and
Home.
Frowning she looked around quickly, making her already swimming head feel a hundred times worse. The room, the furniture, none of it seemed familiar.
Swinging her legs down to the floor she sat on the edge of the bed for several long moments, eyes closed as she tried to work out what had happened.
She’d quit. She’d come home. And then…
A deeper frown.
That quiet hiss.
“Gas,” she muttered furiously as her bright blue eyes flew open at the realisation. “Bastards!” Stalking over to one of the large windows she saw she was no longer in the city. Rolling hills, turning into mountains in the distance, there was water just out of her sight. A lake, or the sea perhaps.
Turning sharply on her heel she scanned the rest of the room, or rather the suite of rooms. It looked like she was in the bedroom of a larger apartment. Her clothes were unchanged from the night before, assuming she'd only been out for a number of hours and not days. Stalking out of the bedroom she entered the main room of the apartment, she needed a glass of water and to think.
"Good morning," the voice came from somewhere behind her as she reached the kitchenette and had just turned on the tap. Whirling on the balls of her feet she raised her hands defensively. She saw the speaker instantly. He was sat in a chair to the right of the doorway she had just walked through. Smartly dressed and well presented, he was fairly handsome and she guessed of a similar age to herself.
"Who are you?" she demanded, keeping her eyes on him at all times while her hands began tugging at drawers and cabinets trying to find a possible weapon. "And where the hell am I?"
"There's no need to be defensive," he replied, his expression remaining blank. "You're in The Village."
"The Village," she repeated frostily. "And what's that when it's at home?"
"Here."
Failing to find anything straight away that she could use to defend herself she looked carefully at the man before her. If he was there to hurt her, he could have done it while she slept.
"Are you always this helpful?" she threw back, turning away to fill a tumbler with water and gulped it down before refilling it and turning back to him.
"I answered your question," came the flat response. "You're in The Village and The Village is here. I don't know how else I can make it more clear."
"Alright, Dr Seuss, let it go. I'm in The Village. I get it." She sipped the water before almost dropping the glass when his phone rang loudly. Cursing her own nerves she watched as he withdrew it from his pocket and took the call. "God damned Agency." She muttered furious before listening to him as he spoke.
"Yes, she's awake. Of course. Right away." The phone was slipped back inside the jacket of his suit and he rose to his feet. "You will come with me now, number 6."
"I'm not number 6 any more. I'm-"
"You will come with me now, number 6. Number 2 will see you now." He moved to the front door which opened without him touching it.
"And if I don't want to go?"
"You will come with me now, number 6." His tone was suddenly considerably colder as he extended a hand towards her, inviting her to step through the now open door. "Number 2 does not like to be kept waiting."
"Fine," the glass was put down less than carefully onto the nearest work top and she followed him to the door, "maybe this number 2 will have some answers for me."
Opening post written by Ravenloft and Britwitch
Heavy clouds hung over the city, adding to the heat in the streets below. In amongst the traffic one car zipped smoothly between the lines of cars. Not speeding as such but clearly in a hurry to get to wherever they were going. The car's windows were down and the warm breeze was sending the long dark hair of the driver dancing merrily behind her. Her expression, however, was anything but merry. What would have been a pretty face was wearing an expression of quiet fury. Her mouth forced into an angry line and her eyes narrowed. Reaching an intersection she didn't even attempt to brake as the lights changed. Tyres squealing slightly as she took a corner and came to an abrupt halt. Closing the window and leaving the car parked in the street, she strode away with a plain envelope in her hand and nothing more.
She wasn't dressed for the heat, that marking her out from the crowd as much as anything. A tailored blouse with an equally well fitting skirt that skimmed her knees, heels that were fractionally higher than would perhaps be considered sensible making her hips sway back and forth at a determined pace. On her chest, an I.D. badge bounced with each step.
Into a building that from the outside didn't look much different from the others on the street, she stepped into the lift that was located just inside the door. There was nothing but that lift. No way out. Pressing her thumb to the pad inside, the doors smoothly shut and the elevator began to rise.
When it came to a stop it opened to reveal a large lobby behind which was a long corridor, visible through a set of glass doors. At a desk before the doors sat a pretty blonde.
She didn't pause at the desk, ignoring the plaintive pleas of the receptionist, she pushed through the glass doors and stormed down the corridor, half hearing the blonde's desperate conversation over the phone as the doors swung back and forth behind her.
"No...wouldn't listen....don't know...get security?"
She smiled, slightly, as she reached the door at the very end of the corridor, certain the man whose office lay on the other side would be the man the receptionist had called. She knocked and opened the door without pause, smiling a little more as she saw him replacing the phone's handset as she did so. He looked surprised but not worried.
"I'm gone." She said bluntly as she crossed the room and dropped the envelope onto the desk before him. The man behind it looking from her face to the envelope and back again.
"Now, now, number 6, why don't you sit down and we can talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm finished and that's my letter of resignation. I have nothing here I want to take with me, all my personal effects have already gone home." One carefully manicured nail, not too long but definitely feminine, tapped the envelope. "I've signed a disclosure form, nothing from the agency has left this building with me. No sensitive material. Nothing. Not even a stapler."
"If you feel you need to take a break, I'm sure we can work out some leave-"
"No. I need to leave. Period. I won't bother the agency as long as the agency doesn't bother me."
"It's not as simple as that and you know it, number 6."
"Stop calling me that," she said quietly. "I'm not number 6 any more. Find another agent to do your dirty work for you."
"Don't do this, number 6!" he called after her as she turned on her heel and stormed back out of his office, not seeing that he was already reaching for his phone before the door had shut again behind her.
Soon enough she was home. Her little apartment. She'd already packed everything she wanted to take with her and put everything else she cared about into storage so it was pretty empty but it felt so good to know when she next walked out of the door, she wouldn't be coming back. She had a one way ticket, in a false name, to the West coast, a few more flights would follow that. A few more changes of name, and then out to a small string of tropical islands in the Pacific where she could finally relax, far from the reach of the Agency.
Glancing at her phone and trying to work out whether there was time to shower or if she should just go straight to the airport already, she realised something was wrong. There was a quiet hissing sound, like the slow sad sound of a deflating balloon. Frowning she glanced around and spotted the almost invisible mist drifting down from the air conditioning unit in the corner.
"Shit!" She quickly wrapped her arm over her nose and mouth as she dashed towards her door but it wouldn't open. She tugged and tugged, fumbling with the latch which she knew she hadn't dropped when she'd come home.
Her vision was soon swimming and the light began to fade.
“You can’t…” she began to no one in particular before she crumpled onto the floor, her words left hanging in the air. She didn’t move when the front door opened. She didn’t move when they lifted her from the floor and carried away from her home and away from her life.
*~*~*~*~*
When she awoke the first thing she was aware of was that her head was killing her and that her throat felt as if it was full of dust. With a groan she rolled over and all but fell out of the bed. The shock making her jerk awake far quicker than she would have liked.
“Fucks’ sake…” she muttered, irritated, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair and over her face. She felt as if she was on the wrong end of an all-night party when she knew she had done nothing of the sort. As much as she’d been looking forward to quitting she had no celebrations planned, no drink with friends to mark the end of her life as a number. She just gone home and
Home.
Frowning she looked around quickly, making her already swimming head feel a hundred times worse. The room, the furniture, none of it seemed familiar.
Swinging her legs down to the floor she sat on the edge of the bed for several long moments, eyes closed as she tried to work out what had happened.
She’d quit. She’d come home. And then…
A deeper frown.
That quiet hiss.
“Gas,” she muttered furiously as her bright blue eyes flew open at the realisation. “Bastards!” Stalking over to one of the large windows she saw she was no longer in the city. Rolling hills, turning into mountains in the distance, there was water just out of her sight. A lake, or the sea perhaps.
Turning sharply on her heel she scanned the rest of the room, or rather the suite of rooms. It looked like she was in the bedroom of a larger apartment. Her clothes were unchanged from the night before, assuming she'd only been out for a number of hours and not days. Stalking out of the bedroom she entered the main room of the apartment, she needed a glass of water and to think.
"Good morning," the voice came from somewhere behind her as she reached the kitchenette and had just turned on the tap. Whirling on the balls of her feet she raised her hands defensively. She saw the speaker instantly. He was sat in a chair to the right of the doorway she had just walked through. Smartly dressed and well presented, he was fairly handsome and she guessed of a similar age to herself.
"Who are you?" she demanded, keeping her eyes on him at all times while her hands began tugging at drawers and cabinets trying to find a possible weapon. "And where the hell am I?"
"There's no need to be defensive," he replied, his expression remaining blank. "You're in The Village."
"The Village," she repeated frostily. "And what's that when it's at home?"
"Here."
Failing to find anything straight away that she could use to defend herself she looked carefully at the man before her. If he was there to hurt her, he could have done it while she slept.
"Are you always this helpful?" she threw back, turning away to fill a tumbler with water and gulped it down before refilling it and turning back to him.
"I answered your question," came the flat response. "You're in The Village and The Village is here. I don't know how else I can make it more clear."
"Alright, Dr Seuss, let it go. I'm in The Village. I get it." She sipped the water before almost dropping the glass when his phone rang loudly. Cursing her own nerves she watched as he withdrew it from his pocket and took the call. "God damned Agency." She muttered furious before listening to him as he spoke.
"Yes, she's awake. Of course. Right away." The phone was slipped back inside the jacket of his suit and he rose to his feet. "You will come with me now, number 6."
"I'm not number 6 any more. I'm-"
"You will come with me now, number 6. Number 2 will see you now." He moved to the front door which opened without him touching it.
"And if I don't want to go?"
"You will come with me now, number 6." His tone was suddenly considerably colder as he extended a hand towards her, inviting her to step through the now open door. "Number 2 does not like to be kept waiting."
"Fine," the glass was put down less than carefully onto the nearest work top and she followed him to the door, "maybe this number 2 will have some answers for me."
Opening post written by Ravenloft and Britwitch
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