"Dean!" She exclaimed, running up and hugging her partner. He was a good few inches taller than her, so she awkwardly hugged his stomach. Dean laughed quietly, his voice vibrating against the metal staircase, before addressing Chris.
"No worries Chrissie." He flashed a beaming smile in her direction, before pulling out of the hug and bringing out his guns. Instead of the traditional "dual wielding", where a gunner possessed two identical weapons, Dean went with something more unique: with a black pistol and silver tinted suppressor, Dean could easily handle a large group of men on his own. These weapons were rarely used, however. He was usually called into work for his ace sniping abilities, along with his trusty - and highly expensive - Ballister rifle.
"We need to get going, no doubt that guy will pursue." Dean cautioned to his partner, before running up the flight of metal stairs before them. Chris followed, holding her silver-baller pistols at the ready. The soles of their shoes were barely audible as they climbed to the top floor, just before the roof. A pair of red Converse made it first, an exhausted duo of black Vans following.
"No fair you started first." Chris pouted playfully. Dean looked at her, a competitive glint in his eye. "You look tired Chrissie. Need a nap?." He retorted. Hiding the blood rushing to her cheeks, Chris huffed and looked away, heading for the large wooden door ahead. Dean smiled as he mimicked the movement.
Surprisingly, the control room was unguarded. Perhaps due to the late hour?
'or maybe someone got to them first'
Chris watched Dean from the corner of her eye. "did yo-"
"not one of us." He interrupted. Not a good sign...
Reaching with her arm, and gun in hand, Chris nudged the door open. As she did, however, she emitted a sharp cry and became dizzy. Attempting to grab something for support, both arms were unable to catch her fall and she landed face first on the splintered wooden floor.
"Shit." She grunted, tears threatening to spill from grey eyes.
Dean ran over to her and rolled her onto her back. Crimson stained alot of her grey tank top, and he quickly realised the situation.
'the bullet! Adrenaline must have blocked her nerves until now...'
Chris grabbed her shoulder in pain. "How... Did I... Forgot about this?" she half cried. She'd unknowingly lost alot of blood, and was no doubt about to lose more unless Dean went into action. Carefully moving her good arm, he placed his guns down and replaced them with a sharp army knife. Regret and guilt riddled in his eyes, he tried to calm his nerves before aligning the blade with the bullet hole.
"This is gonna sting like a bitch. Sorry Chrissie."
Chris stiffly nodded in responce. She knew that he was preventing a slow and infected death on her part. Dean breathed in and, in sync to his exhalation, dug the dagger in deep.
Chris' eyes widened in pain as he forced his blade into the wound, twisting it in search for the bullet. Seconds passed as minutes and it seemed like an eternity had gone by when Dean flicked the bloody bullet from her shoulder.
She removed her good arm from her mouth, not realising that she had placed it there to stop herself from biting her own tongue off, and Dean ripped some of his shirt to act as a bandage. Standing up, Dean extended his hand for Chris to take. Quickly trying to ignore the fresh pain, she placed her pale hand in his taned one, and pulled herself up.
Making Chris lean against the wall for support, Dean passed a pair of guards. He imagined that they were unconscious, but he knew better. Dry blood was plastered on their clothing, and it made him worry about how many more innocents were killed.
Out of the two, Dean was the most bothered by death. It kinda gave Chris an escape, something to do. This job meant nothing in terms of dead. She did her job, for that is what she was trained to do. Dean on the other hand... His reason for joining was... A sensitive topic.
Shaking his head, and bringing himself back into the situation, Dean pressed a series of numbers onto the keypad he had ordered Chris to Fi.d previouly. With a hiss and a loud beeping noise, a container had opened. Inside was a suitcase.
Dean smiled and picked up the objective. Looking back at Chris, she began to speak.
"Mission complete?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper as she smiled at him.
"Mission complete." He breathed, and the two made their way out the room and onto the roof...
Hi my lovelies!
Snazzy here with another chapter of Alone in the Dark :) I hope you enjoyd the chapter! I did do a much better one before, but as many know when it comes to writing some things, the original can never be matched.
It just sounded so great before I redid it! ;-;
Chris: as long as you're not being creepy anymore...
Me: #Grabs Chris again# YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND THE PAIN AND TORMENT O.O
Dean: not this shit again...
Me: ;-; #whisper# no one
Dean: Damn one emotional girl... Anyway we hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for more ^-^
