Bureau of Collections || ONC2021

Contraband

Feeling the soul stir was like being doused in icy water. 404 was running out of time. Lungs rasped and burned, her borrowed legs feeling like they were about to collapse beneath her. She had to pick an unfit one. She pushed through, following the junkie's instincts as they led her back to the place she had found her. She didn't know what else to do.

It would not be long before she would lose her vessel entirely, and that just wasn't an option if she was going to protect the unaccounted. At least she had lost the wraith for now.

A pang of excitement jolted her forward as the dilapidated three story abandoned terrace came into view. She was almost there. She knew 221 had a stash at the Junkie' house. She just prayed he had something that could help, possibly something she could use to get her quarry home and away from the wraith.

Wiping away snot and tears, she clenched the steel watch tightly in her palm, "Don't worry. I won't fail you", she promised him between pants, faltering as the soul within stirred on, sending a shiver rolling down her spine.

She forced her pace to quicken, stumbling up the cracked concrete steps and pushing the door open, gasping as she clattered up the stairs, searching room by room until she found what she was looking for. She had not seen where he had retrieved the weapons from earlier.

What the fuck?! Maurice?!

404 froze, shit, she was awake. Taking a gulp, 404 pushed the soul down, consuming her concentration. Please, just a little longer, she begged as she spotted the cache, imperceptible to the human eye and hidden beneath a stack of old mouldy doors leaning up against the wall.

She raced towards it, feeling the sensation dissipate from her fingers, her host resisting her. "One more minute" she sobbed as she gripped the smooth handle of the enormous trunk and pulled it out from its hiding place, flipping the latch and wrenching it open.

"Yes!" she shrieked as an overwhelming array of devices filled the trunk to the brim. Overcompensating for much, 221? She thought as she ignored her excitement to inspect each and everyone of the beautiful and intricate devices inside to find the one she needed, her inner geek making note that if she survived this, then 221 owed her a private viewing of his collection. Auditors it appeared got all the fun toys.

A loud bang followed by a haunting screech made her jump, crap! She had to act now.

A calm washed over her as she played out what she needed to do in her head, analysing the objects in front of her and prying into her knowledge from the countless books she had read on them to find the right words to activate it.

Swiftly she extracted a thin glass lachrymatory with an ornate bronze cork and a binder similar to the one 221 had used to bind the unaccounted to the watch. She was going to need it to transfer him in order for him to cross. She was about to break the rules in a way she knew may see her voided. It didn't matter at this point. The Supreme had killed him. Outright killed him. She had no choice. There was no going back for this soul now.

Taking a moment to remember the words, she set out the items in front of her along with the watch, trying to ignore every time she heard a door shatter as the wraith hunted through each room, approaching ever closer.

Quickly she muttered the ancient words, pointing the binder towards watch, having to speak it a second time as she mispronounced the last word. Shit. With the last utterance, a white light flared, shielding her eyes as the unaccounted appeared in his corporeal form before her, wide eyed and panicked.

She did not hesitate, pushing the lachrymatory into his confused hands, "Put that to your lips. Now!" she shouted desperately

"What?"