NationStates Jolt Archive

Life, such a hard thing. The figure's back hit the wall with a thud, the sounds of a heavy weapon clanged the floor. The erect body slowly slumped to the floor, eyes closed. The figures head slumped back and hit the wall with an audible thump. Fifteen minutes, no motion. Thirty minutes, no motion. An hour, suddenly the deep green eyes shot open, staring at the ceiling. The eyes scanned the room, picking up each and every bit of rubble that this damned war had brought about. The figures head sweeped across the room, stopping to stare at the bullet holes that streaked across the wall opposite.

The figure stood up, and long blonde hair billowed down past the shoulders. Blood dotted the blonde hair, a distinct clot was formed on the middle of the back of the head. Distinct military fatigues could be made out, blood dotted the uniform, the uniform had been heavily soaked in some area's. This figured walked across the room, female, definatly a female. The body was definatly muscular, although breasts adorned it. The face could be host to no male, the grin however could only be hosted by those who had stepped over the edge. The sadistic grin that came to the face was only made to look more evil by the blood that was dried in a sprayed fashion.

The female stopped in the middle of the room, and went back to where she had sat. She stooped down and picked up the M240 that lay on the ground. The large sling was thrown over her shoulder and the weapon now rested diagnoally across her back. She walked through a door, and grabbed the sink that protruded out of the wall. She ignored the sounds of gunfire in the background as she stared deeply into the mirror. Thousands of thoughts flitted through her mind as she stared at her own mug. The thousands of thoughts came spinning to a stop at the events that made her who she was.

Years before, twenty three to be precise, a scientist had came across an important discovery, the manipulation of genetic material. He spent many sleepless nights trying to unlock the secrets. His government was oppressive, so he operated in secrecy, he wanted a child to be free of the nations conscription laws. His many hours of work were to be smuggled out when his wife left the country. His secret was found out, and the woman was forced to stay, the scientist, forced to work in a government lab, creating these genetically engineered soldiers. When his daughter was born, she was given nothing more than a first name.

Kidnapped, like all Nofian children, she was thrown into the conscription program, one that would get special attention. The child had never known her parents, always to live in light of the military. She knew no fear, the screaming, the beating, being pushed to the limit both physically and mentally, was all responded to the same by the charming blonde girl with green eyes, a look with no emotions, and if the case called for a short clear answer. She was miles ahead of her peer's, she didn't understand why they cried, and screamed. She became the light of the instructors, soon to be the light of her superior's, the leaders would then see her accomplishments, finally, the nation would love her.

She graduated with ease, having absorbed the most out of her training, which had lasted six years. She easily survived in the wilderness, and even at such an early age could take on the smaller squads of soldiers that patrolled the forest. Marksmanship was emphasised, she was far from shooting perfect, she didn't have the patience to shoot incredibly well. The deathmatches were her favorite, her match had lasted thirty seconds, ten of which had been her making it extra painful for her opponet.

The next three years she would recieve further training, more emphasised on honing skills rather than discipline. After training she would be sent to a boarding school, when the leader of the nation thought he could take the jungle out of the lion, it failed miserably, the warfront was where she belonged. She belonged where both friend and foe could tremble her name in fear, as she cut the enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Here she stood in this warzone, staring at the mirror on the wall, reflecting on her past. She could be host to no family, no one dared get close enough to her for fear of their own death. She felt no emotions, no regret, no remorse, no love, no joy. She knew her way of life, and she lived by the gun.

She lived her life the way a mercenary does, a soldier for hire. She did this not of her own voilition, but that af the government. She didn't care, it was the only life she knew.

Her thoughts collected as she started at the mirror, and were interupted by a whistling sound. An explosion tore through the building she was in. She had heard the bomb, and had made no motion. The bomb crashed through ceiling, and she still made no motion. Half the building now lay in ruins and the blonde warrior had thought nothing of. Her thoughts broke, and the last echoes of who she was rang in her mind.

Valerie

Valerie turned around, walking away from the mirror. She stepped through where the door had been seconds before. It seemed that the only part of the building untouched was the bathroom. She stood on a pile of rubble, and watched the enemy convoy stream up the road, failing to notice the Nofian soldier.

Something in her mind clicked, and her weapon was in her hand. Her entire demenor changed from that of someone who doesn't care about life, to that of someone who is ready to kill. The charging handle slammed back, and the butt of the stock rested on her shoulder.

The M240 screamed several times as the soldiers in the transport struggeled to figure out what had happened, half of them had died. Valerie had taken off running, while some of the more together soldiers had located her. The air around her filled with lead, and she caught several rounds in her body and legs. Her body payed no attention to this, and she ran to a covered position.

She ripped her blouse open, and located the wounds. She reached into her cargo pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, which soon found it's way in between her teeth. Her knife came out of it's sheath, and plunged into her body, her free hand reached into the wound and fished the hunk of lead out of her body. She threw the bullet away, and moved onto the next wound. By the time she had finished extracting the next bullet the first wound was almost completely healed. She extracted a total of seven bullets, and unholstered her pistol. A head peeked around the corner and was soon met with an explosion and a hunk of lead lodged in his forehead, her hearing was unmatched, and she knew three more soldiers rested around the corner.

She made use of the strength of her M240 and lay a spray of fire through the corner of the wall. Two more thumps, and the sounds of footsteps getting quieter. She entered the building she now lean against, and made her way to the roof. The roof was met a smoke grenade, and a woman who was running with the intention of jumping to the next building. Yellow smoke billowed off of the roof, and Valerie flew across the gap. She didn't quite make it all the way, rather she crashed through a second floor window. She stood up, a large piece of glass sticking out of her back, and smaller ones adorning her arms.

She picked most of the glass out of her body, when she heard the sounds of footsteps below her. She scanned the room, and found the door. She kicked it in, her weapon at the ready. The stairs were filled with soldiers, and soon they were a bloodbath.

Valerie walked past the stairs, watching the pooled blood start to run down them. She stopped, and pulled out a cigarette. A flick of her lighter and the cigarette had a glowing red ember on the end. Suddenly she was drenched as the sprinkler system kicked in. She ignored the water coming from the ceiling and made her way to the roof once again.

The sounds of a Nofian helicopter could be heard in the distance. Valerie took this as her key. She went to the edge of the roof, and spotted the gunners on the vehicles. One by one they met a bloody fate.

The helicopter dropped it's cargo on the roof, unable to land itself. Valerie was given a new supply of ammo, and a squad of Nofian soldiers, soon to be supplemented by the ground forces that were on their way. The enemy convoy didn't dare leave the cover of their vehicles, the fear of death was too great. But the vehicles couldn't go anywhere in the narrow streets with the front and rear vehicles disabled.

The squad of soldiers took to the ground level, and started destroying the convoy. By the time the Nofian troops would get here, there would be nothing to do. A platoon of men scared to death of one woman, and massacered by eight soldiers.

The Nofian military vehicles barreled their way down the rubble ridden streets. The yellow smoke was finally stopping, and it filled the streets where they stopped. Soldiers exited the vehicles, too many of them. Valerie and her eight soldiers made their way to the street, while the crews that showed up started salvaging equipment, and destroying everything else.

The blonde woman stepped out and walked up to the man who looked to be in charge. Not a word was said, and he pointed to one of the vehicles. Valerie made her to the indicated vehicle, where the driver jumped out at the sight of her approaching.

"Ma'am, your presence is requested by Cyrus," he said, noticing a piece of glass sticking out of her shoulder.

She said nothing when he reached for the glass. He tried pulling it, but the wound had healed around it. He used the sharpness of the glass to his advantage and cut the skin with it to pull it out. Valerie's face made no indication of pain as he did this. She finally spoke, "Any idea what it's about?"

"I don't know any specifics, all I know that it's some kind of specialized job, an assassination I think," he said as he flicked the bloody glass onto the ground.

She gave no response, but rather went to the passenger side of the vehicle. The door slammed as she entered, her weapon cradled between her feet, and pointing at the ceiling. The driver entered and started up the vehicle, when he looked over at Valerie, she was already asleep. He backed the vehicle up, and started the long trek back to the military base camp, where she could hitch a ride on transport plane.

The vehicle stopped at the base camp, where soldiers bustled back and forth performing their duties. Valerie was awakened and stepped out of the vehicle. She started across the camp to where she had been settled down.

She passed two tents, both of which had pools of blood seeping out from underneath it, and screams coming from the inside. One of the tents was labeled medical, the other, interogation. The screams almost brought a smile on her face as she remembered the trials she went through as a little girl.

At her tent she grabbed the few supplies she had brought with her, and threw them in a seabag. Her weapon slung over her back, and her seabag tossed haphazardly over her shoulder she made her way to the airfield.

She tossed her bag aboard one of the planes, after talking with an aircrew man to figure out which one to take. She took a seat in the belly of the beast, along with several dead bodies, and some wounded. She watched the ramp close as the engines roared to life.

Motion.

Motion.

Motion.

The plane was in the air, and in a few hours it would be in the Nofian homeland. Valerie started taking her weapon apart to clean it.

The transport plane touched down in the capital of Madra City. The rubber tires screamed as the plane slowed down, smoke lifted off of the tires as the plane jolted to a halt. Inside the belly of the beast Valerie sat, wait, she stood. Her weapon had been cleaned many times over, and her boredom was sated by her thirst for blood. She had taken to carving in her own flesh. The hobby was one that made little difference in the long run, her wounds healed leaving no marks.

She jumped on to the tarmac of the airfield, and walked towards the base. Once inside she made her way to the garage, where she would take a random motorcycle. Material possesion was something people in the nation had, the militaristic views of the mercenary state meant most personal vehicles were provided by the government, thus anyone in the nation could use them.

With a roar the old motorcycle came to life, spurting exaust fumes, and roaring as Val reved the engine. Before too long she was speeding her way out of the garage. She set course for the capital building.

Her hair blew in the wind as it hung down below her helmet. She blew down streets. She hit Main St, and slowed way down, as she passed a platoon of soldiers, running with their full 782 gear. The torture runs, she knew them well, runs consisting of many miles with at least fifty pounds of gear and a rifle. Every soldier had to be able to complete the three mile run in less than 22 minutes.

After the platoon was long passed, she picked up the speed, taking corners tight, almost too fast. She weaved in and out of the military traffic, cutting inches infront of and behind vehicles. Once she hit a clear spot the motorcycle was pushed to it's limit. Over time, she slowed down, knowing she neared the capital building.

The tall building rested at the top of a big hill on the edge of town, it had a perfect view of the whole city, and beyond. Valerie stopped in front of the building, and left the cycle to the elements in front of the building. Once inside the building she made the familiar trek to the dictator's office, a journey she had made many times before.

Valerie rapped on the dictator's door, and opened without so much as waiting for a response. Her hand flashed in front of her body, and a knife was held firmly in her hand.

"You really should get a new trap, these old one's are getting predictable," she said in a tone that was as cold as the world that had bore her life.

Cyrus stood looking through the floor to ceiling windows of his office, the dark sky silhouetted his body to everyone who cared to look. Far below him snakes of soldiers could be seen running through the streets, and deep in the desert on the south edge of town flashes could be seen as explosives went off in training excersizes.

"If I changed it everytime you came, I'd have run out of new traps by now, Valerie," Cyrus said.

She gave no response, and stared past him, staring at the dark grey cloud cover that never seemed to dissapoint her. The darkness, she loved it.

"Anyway, onto business. I've been given a job offer, the details are sketchy, as a matter of fact, I was only given a location to meet an informant. The pay is incredibly high, but the details are sketchy. I leave the choice up to you."

Valerie still said nothing.

"If you choose to accept, I'll give you the details, but I'm not trusting anybody else with this job. Think it over, you know who to contact if you wish to accept."

Valerie turned around, still saying nothing, and exited the room.

((OOC:If you wish to join, this is the chance. TG me with details of what you want to do, and I'll consider. I do however want someone to be the one who is hiring her. I'm open to other soldier like people, but no other genetically engineered soldiers, I'd like to keep this at a still experimental stage.))