` KINGS AND QUEENS [OPEN]

[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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The snow was murder. Winter was her least favorite season of the year. She had trekked through the snow to get here, knowing that she was taking a risk coming here. Yet, it was necessary to come here. The Resistance was running low on medical supplies and other things she felt would come in handy. The hospital had been closed for some time now, the doors and windows on the lower floors boarded up and locked, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Dreya shivered in the falling snow, the leather jacket keeping her warm. She was bundled from head to toe, yet she was still cold in the winter season.

Finally she reached the hospital. It looked eerie covered in snow and the windows boarded up. Dreya stood before the hospital, looking for a way in. She came across the main front doors, a large chain and padlock keeping the doors shut. They should have known better. Dreya stepped back from the door, pulling a gun from her hip. Taking aim she fired two rounds at the lock until it broke and the chains fell away from each other. Slowly she walked back to the doors and pushing them open. Her gun was kept out, unsure of what would be waiting for her inside the old building. She wanted to be quick but thorough.

The gas outside was a growing threat everyday, and if the winter weather wasn’t killing people it was the gas outside. Dreya had to do something and fast. Few who had gone near the gas made it back alive, and if they did it didn’t take long before the toxic gas took their life. Several blood samples had been drawn from the victims, and it only confirmed what she knew. The gas was poisonous and killed at an alarming rate. It was something the Perfect Nation had created, and like always they couldn’t watch what they were doing. Anything that didn’t work to their advantage was lost and left behind only to come back and bite everyone in the ass.

Dreya made sure to be quick in the hospital, pulling out a flashlight to look around the abandoned hospital. Her gun was at the ready, her finger ready to trigger at any sign of movement. She doubted that there would be anyone in here, but she couldn’t take that risk. There was too much at stake. She kept her footsteps silent as she explored. Old documents were left out, gurneys that had been in use stood still collecting dust. It looked like the staff literally just left without a word. It was strange, eerie and haunting. Yet, Andreya could’t let it distract her.

She found the room she was looking for, but it too was locked. A glass window sat in the frame, and she fired out two more rounds and watched the glass fall to the ground. Reaching through the window she opened the door, finding what she would need inside. Dreya slipped the bag off her back, opening it up and dumping in whatever she could find. Bottles of penicillin, syringes, gauze, anything she could get her hands on. There was much more than she could take in her bag, and knew that she would need a large team to come with her to clean out the hospital and what it could provide. But first she had to find out if it was even going to be profitable. Thankfully she had gone with her gut instinct again. When to come back was the question. She had to act fast if she wanted to take all the supplies, and she hadn’t even checked out the closed school yet.

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[EZRA KALE D'EATH]

Snow didn't necessarily bother the boy, his nature in all was cold and he had travelled as a mercenary for about two years through hot and cold. It was the sludge that bothered him, the rain mixed with rain and the slushy like mud beneath his boots as he trudged. It was hardly his idea of stealth but despite it he was still quiet as a wee mouse. He had seen the girl moving and his time had given him some information. Sure he had no idea who the girl was but she was Resistance. Leader, he wasn't aware and probably wouldn't until he was forced to report back to that dick Strange LeGrange.

He moved through the cold easier than her, she wasn't as accustomed as he. He pointed out little things about the nervous set of her shoulders and the gun at her side. Rookie, His mind snickers as she disappeared into the hospital. It was freezing cold and the girl was scavaging the Hospital. Perhaps they were medically insuficient. Nice tidbit to add when forced to rein i his leash and return to master. Damn that mindset, he was no one's dog and definitely not LeGrange's. If someone else didn't kill him he surely would.

His black stringy hair concealed behind a toboggan and his his clothes dim to mix into the dismal darkness of the snowing sky. It wasn't hard to spy on the girl and she showed no signs of knowing he was there. He rounded the building and entered from the other side. His ears pricked as he listened. He kicked off the sludge which made stealthiness a hastle.

Just as he thought, just a girl. Did they let youngins' in too? Then again he was only twenty two and one of the top spys and assassins for the Nation.

She busted opened a locked door and he couldn't help but feel curious as to how desperate she was. He was close enough to break her neck, right outside the door. What he wasn't expecting was to slip and fall. So much for stealth. He groaned and lifted up his head and knew there was no way she hadn't heard that. "Son of a Bitch."

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[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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Dreya had been focused on taking as many items as needed or that she could fit in her bag. There were things that she didn’t even know what they were for but she couldn’t take the chance of not having it when they could need it, even once. Her group was hesitant these days to venture out into the land, the toxic gas from the nearby plant creeping closer and closer each day. However, she knew how badly they needed the supplies and although she knew she shouldn’t go alone, no one would volunteer. She didn’t have a choice and had to venture out on her own.

Slowly but surely her bag filled with bottles of sedatives, drugs, syringes, gauze and more. Each section of her bag was getting full and she would have to start on a new section. There was just too much here for her to take alone. The next time she would come with a group whether they volunteered or not. If they wanted to survive this war and the toxic gas they would need supplies to last. However, Dreya’s new robo-dog would come in handy. She didn’t have much time to fiddle with it, just only testing out the basic commands. But, once she had figured out how well it could respond she would have her engineers and technicians examine it and fit it out to head into the core of the toxic gas. Then they might be able to get some information and figure out how to stop this disaster.

There was a sudden disturbance behind her, Dreya suddenly dropping everything she did and reached for her gun. It was close whoever or whatever it was that made the noise. Her gaze looked to the door to see feet on the other side of it. Quickly but quietly she moved towards the door, opening it to find someone not from the Resistance sitting on the ground. Dreya didn’t know who he was or what he was doing here but that fact that he had seen her was enough for her to consider killing him. He was a threat now and could risk exposing her.

She examined him, keeping the gun on him. “You have thirty seconds to tell my what you’re doing here and why I shouldn’t kill you.” Her voice was kept neutral, but still serious in tone. He certainly didn’t look fit to be out here in the cold, but she shouldn’t have been here either, and alone. Anything could happen at this point, and she was regretting suddenly coming alone. However, if something were to go wrong she would fight to the end. “Ready? Go.”

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[EZRA KALE D'EATH]

He knew he had to stop being so damn cocky but it was in his nature to underestimate others, especially girls. His body hit the ground and he knew he was shit out of that bit of luck he had held on to his entire life but he wasn't a quitter and this simply made things more interesting. He wondered if he could play it off as nothing and he was an exceptional liar. He could craft stories from thread and needles. He needed a hit of inspiration.

The girl was quick and almost silent enough to full him and then he felt the cold metal of the gun against his skin. He could hardly surpress a grin and laughter. His face read that of confusion and fea but entirely false. Whether the girl could see it was careless to him. He could twist the gun from her hand in a moments notice and possibly rip out her throat in the process, the question was doing it before she could pull the trigger and blow out his brains. He had been trained for this and what he held against this girl was his youth. He was a boy that looked of little skill in anything.

"I'm sorry, i followed you. I saw you come in here and hoped you could help me, my sister is sick and if i can't help her she'll die. Please don't shoot me or she'll die. I promised ma and da i would look after her." He stuttered in his speech, never was the most educated kid but he was always an excellent actor.. Every ounce of a crying child poured from his mouth. It was words he had spoke of before, years of practice plus seeing your sister die of sickness helped quite a bit. It was up to what she thought.

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[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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Dreya watched the boy as he seemed to shrink away from her, but something about this wasn’t right. She wished she wasn’t alone now. Andreya needed someone to keep up with gathering supplies or at least keep him busy so she could leave. But here she was with some guy who followed her into the hospital. Whatever he said Dreya couldn’t believe, no matter how true it was. She knew better than to trust people, and if you wanted to survive you had to be on your own or part of a group out here. He had made a mistake in crossing her path.

His sob story made her roll her eyes. “Sorry kid but I can’t help you. You’re better off on your own. In fact, it’s probably better that you leave now before I kill you. Then your sister will surely die. Now get out of here and forget that you ever saw me.” Dreya put her gun away, but kept the safety on and returned to the supplies she had been gathering. Her eyes remained on the door and waited for the boy to leave and if not she may have to kill him.

Dreya couldn’t afford any distractions right now or people to get in her way. She needed to get these supplies back to her headquarters. There was still a threat of toxic gas outside waiting to consume her at any moment. Dreya wanted to make sure she was back at headquarters before it came her way and caused her bodily harm. Speaking of which, why was he out here anyways? She highly doubted that he had a sister to take care of otherwise he wouldn’t have come here in the middle of nowhere. And he just happened to pick her when he saw her? Why didn’t he just scream for help like someone in need really did? Something about this boy didn’t sit right with Dreya, and she kept her eyes on the door in case he should come in. However, rather than shoot him, she removed a syringe from her bag and grabbed a bottle of sedative. Quickly she filled it and tucked it into her back pocket incase she should need it.

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[EZRA KALE D'EATH]

This was just fucking annoying now, he felt like an idiot, guess that came with the game. She seemed to fall for his game but a cautiousness was visible in her eyes. He knew he had to be quick, sooner or later she would piece together his story and it would become harder to trust him. Whether he was a brother desperately seeking help even threatening his life to save his sister or an assasssin coming to rip out her heart. Or better, he thought, this girl was a simpleton and bringing her back to the Nation seemed better than dragging her limp dead body across the snow. Too messy.

"Oh thankyou, thankyou." And your god, bitch.

Either way, one of them were going to leave hurt or dead. He shivered into himself remembering who he was pretending to be and tried not to eye the gun she so stupidly holstered. A child could smell the danger off him. He had bathed luckily so his stench was far from its normal base of death. Actually quite nice, yet disgusting.

He watched her go with narrow plotting eyes before lifting to his feet. He cracked his neck and let his fingers glide over the curving cruel knife at his belt. Which would win, gun or blade? Who was faster? He smiled, a grin he couldn't contain in the heat of slaughter. Wait, he reminded himself, he was going to kill her. Not yet after all he was the Nation's executioner.

It had been quite lovely of her to give him that thirty seconds, he would not be so kind. He rolled around the door like a ghost. Whether she be looking or not was completely careless to him.

"Sorry ta bother ya bitch, i'm lookin for m'sister, ya seen her?" His lips curled in a grin that made him look almost fox like. A jackal almost as he lunged out with a leg to trip her while his hand lunged for her throat. "I apologize for the roughness, but ya just done pissed me off."

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[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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Dreya continued what she was doing, keeping one eye on the door where the boy was located. She finished filling her bag with supplies, making sure the syringe was secure in her pocket. Dreya hoped that she wouldn’t need it and if she made it out of the hospital without a casualty, well she was going to keep it anyways. It was hard to let your guard down out here in this war, and Dreya wasn’t about to take a chance on her way back to headquarters. Looking around the room once more, she made sure she had what she needed. Anything else she wanted she would get a team to come with her and make a full trip to stock up.

She spotted the boy now standing in the door, his words making her blood boil. Oh when were men going to learn not to call women names. Her eyes spotted his grin, twisted and wicked. She knew that all too well. He was going to attack her. She braced herself for when he lunged towards her. Dreya quickly dropped her bag to the floor, her hands reaching for the gun and the syringe. However, he managed to tackle her to the floor. They hit hard, Dreya feeling the gun slip from her hand. The syringe also dropped, but she was too focused on keeping the stranger away with his knife.

Her eyes glared at him. “I should have known. What are you? Part of the Perfect Nation? Military? Or are you just plain psycho?” Her eyes looked to the syringe, then her gun. She wasn’t sure which she would be able to reach first or which would be better in helping her out of this situation.

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[EZRA KALE D'EATH]

She crashed to the ground and he spied her gun crash aswell. Perfect as planned. He smiled grabbing at her wrists. He was stronger than he looked and she was just as pathetic as he thought. He had no idea he actually had the leader of the Resistance in his hands though.

"Pyscho? No, no. I have a temporary engagement with the Nation and have been sent out to rip out your heart and bring it back but why waste the body? Ezra D'Eath at your service ma'm." He snicker with lips curled back into a wicked sneer. His eyes sparkling wickedly. "So which would you rather dragged live back to the nation or would you rather it end now with your heart in my hand?"

He had been pissed with her simple ways of defence. Weren't the resistance a group of rebel SOULDIERS? This was a disappointment. With one hand gripping the knife he held it procariously close to her chest. "Comeon Girly, don't be afraid Perfect Nation will take good care of ya." Of course he was lying, he would get to torture her if he did take her back to that bastard LeGrange.

He should have been more careful, hadn't seen the syringe but she was far from the grip of any weapon that she can use against him. Even if she could grab the gun, he would stab her. "I like the screamin ones, comeon." He chuckled with that snide sneer as he traced where he would rip out her heart if need be.

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[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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Dreya kept her strength up, making sure that his knife didn’t pierce her skin. The fact that he was a part of the Perfect Nation was a problem for her. She couldn’t allow him to capture her or kill her for that matter. The Resistance had lost one leader and they weren’t about to lose another. Their arms quivered as he tried to cut her, and she tried to hold him back. If she could just get to her gun or the syringe she might have a chance at getting away or possibly questioning this strange boy.

“It’s pleasure to meet you Ezra.” Her voice was sarcastic, but she kept her name quiet. And even if he did ask, she was going to lie to him about it. Dreya couldn’t afford to have her name slip out to the Perfect Nation. Her pass still allowing her into the city for information she would get, and if she was discovered as the leader of the Resistance, a high bounty would be placed on her head. “And as far as your offers go, I make my own choice, and neither of them are going to be yours.”

Her eyes moved over the boy, analyzing his stance and position over her. It was a difficult position she was in. Her gun was a little too far for her to reach, but the syringe was a possibility. She had to take the chance, even if it meant that she could receive and injury. At least the sedative would slow him down. Giving him another good push before making a grab for the needed. She didn’t pay attention to where the needle was supposed to go but just stabbed into the first limb she saw. Her thumb pushed down on the plunger watching the liquid disappear.

Dreya wasn’t sure just how strong the sedative was, but if it was enough to get him off her and away from the hospital in one piece, then she would take that chance. Her foot came up and made contact with his chest, giving him a good push to get him away from her body. “Sorry, but I’m not the screaming type, Perfect Nation scum.” Her eyes shifted to the gun, making a quick reach for it for a second time.

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[EZRA KALE D'EATH]

He should have known something was up, this was way to easy. All he had to do was knock her out with the butt of his knife but no, he had to banter and joke. He wasn't necessarily the smartest but not dumb, just really cocky. He looked down at her with that wicked grin mixed with the hint of boyish perversion.

"Wrong answer, girl." He snickered as she rejected his kind offer. It was more than he usually gave his prey. He wasn't sure which one he wanted more, the nation or death then. He was leaning towards torture and then slow death but this was beginning to get annoying. What with the poison gas outside the building. He had a gas mask in his bag but it was in the hallway. Working for Perfect Nation came with benefits.

His eyes hooked around as she reached out and grabbed a vial into her hands. He grabbed out but she pushed him. He felt a prick in his arm, no more of a blarring stab right into the flesh of his upper arm. Her feet met his chest hard and his back slammed against the wall. His knife still positioned in his hand and he lifted to his feet with a groan. "Stupid bitch, now i'll have to kill ya." He said, yanking the vial out of his arm but to late as he saw the last of the liquid enter his blood stream.

He got to the gun quicker but instead of kicking it away he stepped on her delicate little hand just to hear it break. His body felt it before he realized. His legs shook and he stumbled. Reaching out to stop himself seemly was worthless and his body hit the desk and legs gave out on him.

"Damn it," His arms fought to hold him up and his eyes swirled in his head. He stayed awake at least enough to watch the girl get her gun.

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[ANDREYA BLAKE PERRY]

------------we were the kings and queens of promise------------
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
--------------maybe the children of a lesser god--------------

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Andreya wasn’t paying attention to what Ezra was doing when she reached for her gun. Her hand wrapped around it only to have a foot come crashing down on it. A scream left her lips as she heard something crack. Only was it when he stumbled from the sedative was she able to pull her hand free. Dreya pulled it to her chest, cradling it in her free hand. It was red and inflamed now, gently tweaking each finger. The middles ones hurt the most, and she wasn’t sure if they were broken or fractured. Eithe way she knew that they hurt like hell.

Dreya lifted her gaze from the ground to see Ezra fall to the ground as the sedative took effect. She held her hand to the side, trying to keep it out of harms way. Her good hand was able to grab her gun and got to her feet. Again she examined her hand before looking at Ezra. “Ow.” she told him giving him a glare. She stood there for a moment, trying to calm down her heart from her previous moment. She watched him struggle against the sedative, a laugh escaping her lips.

She walked towards him, but kept a good distance between them. “Now, I don’t know how strong that sedative is and I don’t really care. What I do care about is what should I do with you now? The tables have turned now. Have any requests before I decide for you?”

Not Done!

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