Unlovable.- ethan hunt

prologue

Your mission, if you chose to accept it, the words that somehow reached every IMF agent. The question that faced if they would either be ordered to kill their own or do some good. The fate that decided if you would save one life, or save millions. The mission that every agent always seemed to grasp onto one person. One person, they loved the most. Yet to discover their darkest secret. To discover how unlovable they really were.

~~~

   SCARLETT ABRAMS picked up the phone apart of the phone booth. Her bloody hands staining the metal. With the other hand, she covered herself with a beige trench coat. Her black suit that held all her weapons, was invisible at this time of day. Yet Scarlett wanted to be careful that no cops would come, with flashlights. She waited patiently for the message, but nothing had come yet. She stood thinking. The IMF was her family, but she was afraid now. Afraid that they would make her turn on the other agents. Scarlett had just killed two agents in the alleyway. William Brandt was one of them. One of her close friends. She couldn't tell who the other one was. Scarlett had exploded his face with a revolver. The obedient agent didn't miss, she never missed. Although her behaviour was quite violent, when she shot a gun she looked away. She always looked away. Scarlett couldn't stand the fact of killing a person, even though it was her job. Something about it drove her crazy. How one person filled with so much hate could take an object and stop the person's heart. How hate could drive a person to do that. The screen right below the phone activated, as she lowered her head; scanning her eyes.

   "Welcome Agent Scarlett Abrams," the machine started, "new rouge IMF Agents have been located, Benji Dunn, Ilsa, Ethan Hunt."

   The machine went on as she listened to the information. The names didn't mean anything to her. They weren't supposed to, but one did. Ethan Hunt. Scarlett didn't know him, didn't recognize him. The quite lonely Scarlett Abrams questioned if this was her crazy mind. Or if her body just needed another person to fuck. Another person to kill, another person to leave. According to the IMF, agents are oblivious to the fact that they aren't free. They are robots controlled by people. To Scarlett they were people who made them think killing innocent people was okay. Wiping people's memories just so their whole evil plan doesn't get out in public. Yet the stupid agent still stood in this weird place, she stood to obey orders. Because she knew if she didn't, they would probably kill her. Other than that the name just rang a bell to her she supposed. She ignored it as she listened to the location. Oddly it was close to her, so her body followed the signal carefully. Her phone beeped, looking down it revealed a signal. The green Dot was her, and the red dot was the signal. It beeped slowly if you were far, and kept accelerating once you got closer. For now, the quite annoying noise was pacing, but soon it would go faster. Scarlett didn't know if she could handle going after these agents. It didn't matter if she knew them or not. They were agents like her, they needed each other. Scarlett's soft delicate feet touched the ground, making no noise. The beeping became faster, and she turned off the device; making sure no one would hear. Her steps took her into a street. 

   The street had one lamp post, other than that it was dark and she could hardly see. Her eyes glanced around, trying to scan if anyone had been here. If anyone was here. However, many people did know that Scarlett couldn't see in the dark very well. Her body halted remembering the thought of her sight. Her body froze, panicking. This was a trap. She heard footsteps approaching. It sounded like one agent. Scarlett's hand reached her bottom leg, as she slowly pulled out her dagger. The footsteps began to move, circling her. So she circled her body around. They were getting closer, but she still couldn't see. Every second would count from this point on. Yet she didn't know what to do. The best agent the IMF have known Scarlett Abrams, was now terrified, standing alone, blind, ready to stab an innocent person. The footsteps were right in front of her now. Her fingers grasped the handle tightly. With her head turning away, she pushed the knife.

   Scarlett was relieved when another person had grabbed a hold of her wrist, stopping the blade from going in. Partly because she was terrified of whoever was in front of her. She couldn't see the person, their voice was a medium level. Not deep, not high. Their hands were very strong, Scarlett could have been stronger. She chose not to take any risks. It would be better if these agents knew Scarlett had no actual intention of killing them.
   "An agent who can't see in the dark," the voice continued in curiosity, "you're stronger than this aren't you?"
   Her voice filled with a lump could not find words to speak at this moment. So for a second, there was an awkward silence. Abrams began to feel weak, her panic attacks were kicking in. She tried to resist, tried breathing to slow it down. Before you know it her body tipped backwards. The same hands wrapped around her tint waist catching her. The person lifted her off her feet and started to carry her. Scarlett hoped to stay awake to see where he was taking her, but she couldn't find the strength. This was a very dangerous approach. She realized that the IMF would be looking for her. They would realize her face, her name disappeared off the face of the earth. Scarlett realized that she had fucked up her plan, and questioned why they had accepted her as an agent in the first place. She was never as smart as the other kids, she failed every math test, failed every science test. She was always obsessed with sports, it was almost like a drug. Scarlett needed to do something now, she needed to try before her eyes closed.

   "IMF i-sssss g-oing t-oooo lo-o-o-o-o"

   It was too late, Scarlett's eyes had already closed. She officially looked like the most stupid agent to Ethan Hunt. This strange man was kidnapping her to a strange place, in hope of helping whatever kind of agents these were.