Wake up, hunt food, write results, sleep.
Wake up, hunt food, write results, sleep.
Wake up, hunt food, write results, sleep.
Wake up, hunt food, write results, sleep.
This cycle continues, for all my life.
J wakes up, alredy wearing her business suit, her pigtails being nicely done. There was nothing to do, only get up and hunt. So, she did. Rising from her alredy done bed, since she hasn't touched the blanket in months. The room is dark, not a single light showing what's inside, not that it would matter, since her room is empty, aside from the bed. A lonely, empty room where everything would begin and end, only for it to repeat.
She slowly walks to her door, feeling as if the world was on her shoulders, a choke around her neck, tied to a boulder, a sweet call to her bed, but she couldn't go back, she had to continue. The night started and she had a job to do. Abruptly straightening her posture and forcing her body to wake up.
Walking outside of the pod, J sees V stretching her limbs like a feline on the snow, ready for another hunt, while N stares at her figure, not even trying to hide his blush or the badly made plastic flowers he had, probably another attempt at asking her out. J groaned, but decided to not engage with any of the two today. She was alredy stressed just for waking up, spending any time with the two would drive her insane. Spreading her wings, the leader quickly left the spire, not receiving a single glare from her teammates.
Cutting the winds, feeling the cold and toxic breeze of the planet on her face, J wasn't thinking, only looking for any dots on her radar, the usual of every day. Her mind was numb, vision getting blurry, systems getting weaker and weaker, only enough to keep her on the air and notify her of any movement. She just wanted to sleep again, continue on the bed, not wake up ever again.
Suddenly, a beeping noise sent a wave of energy through her body, there was a worker nearby. She looked at the radar, seeing the red dot inside a building. She rammed a wall, easily breaking it without feeling any pain. Inside was a worker wearing a blue t-shirt with black pants and shoes. The defenseless drone was throw to the ground by the impact, his blue eyes shaking, the fear being obvious.
J swapped her hand with a sub-machinegun, shooting a bullet in his leg. The worker screamed in pain while holding his leg. The sound made by his vocal cords only made the disassembler's head hurt more, resulting in the wish to return to her bed increase. She quickly shot his head, stopping the annoying sound. She then turned around, leaving the corpse behind, not feeling like eating in the moment. This cycle continued, the annoying sirens continued. Each time she would shut them off, but every day they would turn on again, again and again. J was carrying 12 bodies in a net, the workers were getting scarcer by the day, being hundreds when they arrived, but quickly lowering to a few dozens. If things continued like this, they would run out of food sooner then they expected.
The leader returned to her home, being empty, much better without those two. She could have this moment to herself if it wasn't for the need to fill a report of the day to the company. She was tired of writting the same thing day after day, but she had to. She didn't even know if V and N knew how to write. So she walked inside the pod and sat on her chair, turning to the broken computer.
- Dear comapny,
This is the every day report. It has been of notice that workers have been getting scarcer, something to worry about, since we might run out of food, resulting in our premature death, without accomplishing the mission.
The proof for my statement is the consistent decrease of the kill count numbers, them being:
Serial Designation J: 12 kills;
