These Pretty Little Lies

Chapter 2

!Warning!
This chapter contains a graphic description of gore! If you don't want to read that skip past the words added in in bold!
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When Sammy got back home, she immediately collapsed on her couch. Holy Primus was she tired. If Sammy could voice how tired she was, she would've done so. Instead she kicked off her boots, leaving them in the living room, and trudged up the stairs to her room while planning on sleeping for the next 10 hours. Her plans were interrupted when her phone rang.

"What." She sounded tired and annoyed. The voice that responded however, was the complete opposite.

"Miss Burns, you are required to meet at the nearest Military base immediately."

Sammy paused, opened her mouth and then shut her mouth. A frown crawled onto her facial features.

"Why?" She asked cautiously. Voices floated into her ears from the other side of the phone. No, she couldn't quite tell what they were saying. It sounded muffled, murky almost. Why were their voices getting murky?

"Your superiors have demanded you do so. Special Agent William Fowler wil...."

Sammy frowned. She didn't want to have to go. It was freaking 3 in the afternoon. THIS DAY HAS BEEN STRESSFUL! But... their voices were getting quiet. What did they say at the end? Her eyes felt droopy. That isn't a good thing. Why was the world getting darker? Did the air smell weird? She couldn't remember. Her thoughts were getting funny. Heatwave was a goof. Hehe... wait.. why did she call Heatwave goofy again? Was she in her room or in her living room still? She forgot what she was doing here again.

"Burns. Are you there?"

Oh yeah... the call.

"Ugh..... yeah, I'm here." Sammy mumbled. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. The phone slipped out of her now weak grasp mid-yawn and thumped on the floor.

"Miss Burns, we are sending soldiers to your location to make sure you are okay."

Oh wow, they cared. That reminded her of Heatwave. He cares too much. He shares something in common with Ratchet! They don't like to express how much they care though... Hehe.. these thoughts are funny. Or maybe they aren't.... Sammy couldn't decide. Didn't matter because these thoughts were entertaining.

W-Wait– these aren't her thou-

"Shit!"

Sammy yelped as she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

The thud of her limp body hitting the floor echoed in the near silent house. It was also the signal for four all black men to come hurrying into her house. They crouched next to her body and picked her up. It was clear they weren't there on good terms with the young woman.

"Don't touch her arm!"

"Fuck, I forgot it was her right."

"Don't forget the next time we do this, you fucking moron."

"I won't."

"Let's hurry up. I bet the US Military are on their way. Did you end that call?"

"Yes, I did sir."

"Good."

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Sammy awoke with a groan. Instinctively she tried to reach up to her head. It was positively pounding and felt like it had gotten split open.

"Uuugh... who the hell hit my head with a bat?" Sammy asked aloud. When she didn't get a response, she looked around. There were wires hooked up to her prosthetic. WAIT WHAT!? WHY WERE THERE WIR-