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Poison, gunshot, future.

lindahasPosted for Everyone to comment on, 5 years ago7 min read

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My morning had been particularly tough. My most recent case showcased the worst of our species. A woman not human at all. It had felt like a bucket of cold water thrown at me even though I had seen worse. These things just never surprised me less. Never kicked me milder.

My talents growing up had set me apart from the rest of the kids. I saw patterns that others missed and I liked sticking my nose into things. I noticed when something was out of the ordinary. When people lied. It had taken me a while to start trusting because of it but with time, I too, like so many others in the force, had formed my team. And I trusted each and every one of them. With my life.

A welcome memory. From the days long gone but never forgotten. The halls of this school might be wide and empty, a little cold even but I had learned more here about myself than anywhere else in the world. Next to the framed pictures of the greatest achievers in the history of our planet, there is nothing. Special forces do not appreciate decor. Taking care of something that gives you nothing. I guess my type needs to harden ourselves. Towards the people we hate and apprehend each day. Yes, it is personal but it is also through justice. The notion lets me sleep easier at night.

As I pass through the halls and round the last corner, I am faced with that reflective glass. I know it well. I had once eagerly sat and waited behind it, as a student. Looking at me now is a different face. It belongs to an experienced woman with long blond hair, neatly braided down to her tights. Behind her, men and women in uniforms. Their faces covered, firearms in their hands. Black, durium armor encasing their bodies. They never lower their guard. They answer only to me. Those are some of the toughest troops out there.

Behind that reflective glass, there are students observing us. I am their assignment. I will speak to inspire and terrify today. To help them really see and understand. Think about the job, if they are really cut out for it. I will also talk about the case I had closed in the morning. It will be the eye-opener they need. I am sure some of the pupils would not come back tomorrow. For their own sake.

I push on the doorknob lightly. All of the individuals inside are young and have their blue uniforms on. All of them sit with straight backs and observe me; the woman that leads the special forces against interdimensional threats as well as some of the biggest scum of our own world. It must be intimidating. There are stories circulating out there about me of which origins even I have no clue about. How they came to exist is a mystery. But they are there and no one questions their integrity.

I stand in front of them, the future members of Destiny Corps. My team takes positions all around the room. They will observe and pick out the individuals that are most promising. An unusual anxiety creeps on me. I can not put my finger on its origin. Something is heavy. In the air. The consciousness of someone. I give my speech but look out of the window multiple times. Onto the rooftop of the next building. It is lower than ours. There are students gathering on its roof, the most accessible place to see the classroom from. Not many have seen real Destiny Corps from a moderate distance, less so from up close. I understand the curiosity but my mind is still troubled.

There is something unusual and I can not, for the love of creator, put my finger on it. I have never faced this issue before. My emotions and senses are always crystal. But now my throat is dry. Even though I am giving my lecture, I watch the small crowd on the rooftop from the corner of my eye. A small commotion suddenly breaks out there and I suddenly realize that some of the people there do not look like students at all.

''Students, stay here with the officers. Something seems to be sketchy here, I have to check it out.'' a hunch urges me to investigate. Certainty is the only viable option. I step down from the podium and nod at my team. They do not move as I leave. No student says a thing. They are at a certain stage with their education. Observe and learn.

My pace is fast but I do not get far. The second I round the first corner again, I hear it. Glass breaking, a person flying. Bones shattering. I stop in my tracks and turn around in an instant. To see the last shards of the reflective glass hit the floor. It must have been less than ten seconds since I left but a person in front of me has hit the floor, hard. He lay on it for a moment and then looks at me. It appears as if he has been in a long fight. And yet, I know the face. It belongs to a student who had sat in one of the first rows of the classroom.

He looks at me with bloodshot eyes. A weapon in his hands that each last year student has. It trembles in his bleeding palms as he points the gun at me. I see the determination in his eyes as his finger lays on the trigger. I recognize the symptoms. My pace is fast but not speedy enough. As I am a meter from him, the first bullet hits me. It stings but I continue on. Two more shots and my hands go around his throat. A sound of breaking bones. The light from his eyes fades. I had not thought, being in a full battle mode.

I turn my head right in time to see one of my officers fall through the door. A gun is pointed at her from the now open portal. It is going to fire. My officers have no cell-regenerative properties. It will not be just an inconvenience like the bullets in my chest. Her life will be taken away. The hand holding the gun trembles. There is blood trickling down it. The symptoms.

I assess the situation in a short part of a second. My legs start to carry me and my hair wraps around my body. My officer is on the floor. I am ten meters away. I run. Halfway there my body goes down, molding as a shield. To cover the body of my officer. I reach her while sliding on the floor. I feel a sharp pain in my spine. Then it is gone. I have been lucky. The shooter had hesitated. I calculate and jump up. My hands reached out for the gun. I am shot in my arm before I manage to grab it and break the arm of the shooter. A scream goes through the building and suddenly there is silence.

I see it through the door. None of my officers are seriously injured. The students all lay on the floor, either hugging themselves or cuffed. Some are dead. I realize that my officers had not been affected by this sudden outburst of violence. It is the last proof I need. I look at the opposite building. There is no one. It was planned. I had been distracted, lured away from the room. To deliver the most destruction possible. I know this virus well enough, it has been used on us before. My labs had developed a vaccine against the chemical weapon. However, without the antidote applied before-hand, those who would be exposed would never be the same.

This is the first time it is used in public. Now more than thirty willing students are going to live their lives in constant darkness. I see red. My heart is strangled. For the ones laying on the ground. I have made a mistake.

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