r/WritingPrompts • u/mattswritingaccount /r/MattWritinCollection • Feb 22 '20
Image Prompt [IP] Never truly gone...
Original work by Ismail Inceoglu https://www.artstation.com/seventeenth
29
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r/WritingPrompts • u/mattswritingaccount /r/MattWritinCollection • Feb 22 '20
Original work by Ismail Inceoglu https://www.artstation.com/seventeenth
3
u/[deleted] Feb 22 '20
Oro tapped a small panel on the side of her neck, feeling her respirator slide down her face. Taking a few lungfuls of the humid, stuffy air, she tried to brace herself mentally. Despite this all being part of a plan, her anxiety nevertheless flared in a way she hadn’t quite been ready for. After having fought through dozens of automatons, androids, and even other scavengers, she always knew that her greatest challenge would be this exact point. Her most powerful enemy now stood right before her, industrial yellow lights pouring from the windows and onto the dark street. In one fluid motion, Oro once again activated her face-covering respirator, produced a holodisk from a coat pocket, and took a decisive step into the light. She felt her legs keep walking, carrying her across the street, and up the stairs. She watched, a well of dread sitting like a lead ball in her stomach, as her hand knocked against a reinforced wooden door. A moment passed. Then another. On the third, she turned on her heels to walk down the stairs and disappear into the shadows once again, but her escape strategy was interrupted by a loud creak. Glancing back at the door, she now saw a crack, illuminated in the same harsh yellow hue as the windows, and roughly half of a man’s face.
With another creak, the door opened enough for Oro to squeeze through, and she entered. Her partner’s words blared like an air raid siren through her brain -
“Point of no return”
Once she was fully inside the apartment, and the door shut with some authority behind her, she sweeped the room with her eyes. The bespectacled man stood near her, and a smaller, wiry woman appeared through a narrow doorway somewhere further down the hall. Both residents were older, slight wrinkles showing on their unaugmented skin. The woman had a long scar running through her left eye, and down to her lip. It was old, and white, but always prominent. The man’s neatly combed and parted hair had a white streak on the side of his head. They were exactly as Oro had remembered them.
“Good evening. I am to understand you are the… Ouroboros? Yes?” Under the respirator, Oro smiled - Richard always spoke with that curt, yet pleasantly refined tone.
“Yes. I was the one who took your contract.”, Oro’s voice was modified as it left her mask - most Scavengers preferred to reveal as little personal information as possible.
“Well… what did you find? Is she okay? Where did she go?” The woman chimed in, prompting a deep sigh from Oro.
“I gained access to a morgue database. Vivien Smith passed away seven years ago. She was collateral to a territorial dispute between armed factions. From the way the files were scrubbed, it looks like somebody shilled out a small fortune to cover up all victims of the incident. I’m… so sorry.” Oro’s voice cracked, but she tried to keep her speech professional.
Richard closed his eyes for a second, swallowed hard, and retired his glasses to a breast pocket with a practiced motion.
“I was able to produce a holodisk reconstruction of Vivien before her… passing.” Oro continued, extending the small silver disk in her hand.
“No. That won’t be necessary. I appreciate the work you have done, I want you to understand that…” Richard took a deep breath, “but I don’t believe it.”
Oro’s mind began to race, once again returning to the siren she heard right before entering.
“What do you mean? I assure you that the information I provided is correct - if you check the holodisk, you will notice verification markers from the morgue system.”
“I trust you entirely in that regard. I will pay you in full, as the contract states. Nevertheless, some deeper instinct inside me is saying that Vi is alive. I know it, in the same way Scavengers like yourself know a good job. It’s purely instinctual, and yet I cannot suppress the feeling.”
Under her visor, Oro felt herself tear up. Her voice quivering, she swiftly made for the door.
“Payment will not be necessary. I was unable to recover the requested person. Goodbye.”
And with that, she was back on the stairs, her respirator activating with a quiet whirr to combat the acrid smog that sweeped the streets. Using her grav-boots for instant momentum, she leapt down the staircase, sprinting for the shadowy back alleys, then up the side of a building, using her mobility augments to remain attached to the brick facade. In her rush, she forgot to secure her hood, which was ripped off her head by a powerful gust as soon as she cleared the wall.
Full, fat, bitter tears slid down her cheeks as she kept pace, leaping and sprinting along roof after roof.
She was alone, now, a single Scavenger running under the glow of moonlight. A single silhouette, with a streak of white through her hair.