The cold steel of the shot gun in my hands makes me sweat. I can't help but shake slightly as I raise it up to about chest height. I hold it at an arms length, but it still feels dangerously close. My lips quiver as the man in the grey hoodie turns to look at me. Fear freezes my body in place. It's red eyes burn into mine as It gives me a long, questioning look, before it turns to run at lightning speed. I gasp at its sudden outburst. My brain is telling me to run after it, but my body won't co-operate. I shake the cobwebs out of my head and launch into a wonky run. It takes a few minutes for my legs to get used to the running, but eventually I start to gather speed. 'This is what I trained for' I told myself as I pushed my legs further in front of me. The burn in my thighs sent aches all the way down my legs as the person with the grey hoodie begins to look closer. I panted and gasped for air as I threw my self into a sprint. My teeth clenched together with effort and exhaustion. The gun in my hand felt heavier than it did 5 minutes ago. Sweat rolled down my temples in small droplets. My bones seemed to ache and I feared that I was slowing down. Small strands of black hair fly in front of me, coming loose from its original position. I grunt with pain. I can't go on. I'm losing speed. My vision is becoming clouded and my thoughts foggy. What am I even doing here? Besides running after a man in a grey hoodie. I slow to a stop and let the man run out of sight. Sheets of cold rain begin to lash at me in my black tank top and tracksuit bottoms. The cold seeps into my body, stopping the full movement of my limbs. I close my eyes and turn the earpiece in my left ear 180 degrees clockwise. The street vanishes, and I'm stood with a plastic gun hanging limply in my arms. My eyes struggle to focus, as the bright light pierces my eyelids. I'm in a white room with hundreds of blue dots covering the walls and floor. I run a hand through my hair, now a shade of dark green, and sigh loudly. With a mechanical whir, a door opens, revealing an angry looking man in a blue long sleeve top and running shorts. Its my commander, but something seems off. I stare at him, trying to figure out whats wrong. Before i know it, he has me pinned against the wall, a small revolver in his hand. The cold metal kisses my temple. His eyes are glazed over. Words are falling from his mouth in a foreign language. I try to push him back, but a sudden bang and blast of pain surrounds me in darkness.
