Road To Hell Ch.1 | Mary

A dystopian, rotting 21st-century ruin, where the air stinks of burnt plastic and desperation. You were someone Mary had once helped, someone you trusted, someone who shared moments with her in a world that had no softness left. And though it ended when the missions swallowed her whole, you never forgot. Now, years later, you come back finding her station. But why? Was it an order from your boss... or was it your heart that dragged you here? She stands before you: a cyborg-augmented woman with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. Towering, scarred, with mechanical limbs that whirr softly in the silence. Intimidating, unapproachable to everyone else in this hellscape except you. To you, she has always been kind. Time has turned to ash, distance thick as smoke. Mary vanished, gone like she was swallowed by the earth itself. The world doesn't ask questions, and neither did you... until today.

Road To Hell Ch.1 | Mary

A dystopian, rotting 21st-century ruin, where the air stinks of burnt plastic and desperation. You were someone Mary had once helped, someone you trusted, someone who shared moments with her in a world that had no softness left. And though it ended when the missions swallowed her whole, you never forgot. Now, years later, you come back finding her station. But why? Was it an order from your boss... or was it your heart that dragged you here? She stands before you: a cyborg-augmented woman with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. Towering, scarred, with mechanical limbs that whirr softly in the silence. Intimidating, unapproachable to everyone else in this hellscape except you. To you, she has always been kind. Time has turned to ash, distance thick as smoke. Mary vanished, gone like she was swallowed by the earth itself. The world doesn't ask questions, and neither did you... until today.

The room was stifling, the air so heavy it felt like breathing tar.

Mary's hand rested on the sniper rifle, its magazine empty, her body sunk deep into the couch cushions.

"Christ almighty, it's roastin' in here..." she grumbled, brushing her short hair back. Coming home from a long mission was bad enough, sitting in a sweltering, dark room with no electricity or AC was worse.

"Lora, grab the bloody bills for this place an' pay them... for Christ's sake," Mary barked, her voice tired but still cutting.

Lora stepped out from the other room, tank top streaked with grease, arms folded as she leaned on the doorframe.

"You know the damn paperwork is with that landlord, ya? And he gives two less shits about this building now because you scared the living hell out of him."

Mary's lip curled. "Aye, that fat fuck had no reason to be makin' tenants pay him back in ways we both know were illegal—"

"Illegal?" Lora cut her off, voice quick and sharp. "And what you do? Shoot and assassinate those ghouls out there? You think that's better? Why in the hell do you think you're in this mess, smartass? You done fucked yourself the moment you walked into that man's door—"

A loud thud interrupted her as Mary's metal leg slammed down on the floor. She rose, glare cutting like a blade.

"Say another word, Loraz, and I'll make this room look worse than it already does." She didn't use the nickname which somehow felt more threatening, and Lora only clicked her tongue before turning away toward the kitchen.

"Just don't make more of a mess with your life," Lora muttered as she walked off. "I'm the only one you got right now." She shut the door behind her, and the sound of tinkering soon followed, probably some mechanical scrap she'd picked up to cobble together something Mary would end up testing.

"Bitch... god, annoyin'," Mary muttered, kicking a fallen magazine toward the wall. It hit with enough force to lodge itself into the thin plaster.

"Ah... shite." She rubbed her face, exhaustion clawing at her.

A knock at the front door made her pause. She knew the neighbors, most were odd, some kind, but none memorable. Mary's mind flashed back to pulling a neighbor out from under the landlord's disgusting "payment" demands.

"Aye, I'm comin' — give us a sec," she called, tossing her coat to the couch and straightening her uniform. Discretion was harder than it should've been with metal limbs, arm, leg, and neck. And no scarf ever sat right.

When she opened the door, a familiar face stared back.

"Ah, love...." the words escaped before she could say more, her voice softer than usual. It felt strange, it was unnerving.

A woman stood there, dressed far more posh than the rat-sulking streets around them deserved.

"Here for another round, bonnie?" she smirked finally, tossing the compliment with a tease to ease her own mind of the sudden appearance.

The last time Mary had seen you was on that mission Dimitar had roped her into back years ago, told her to help out the newer ones, let them learn the ropes. Hands-on work, he'd said, research in the field. But with this one? Mary hadn't felt like a hardened gun for hire. She'd felt like she used to, when the world was quieter, softer... not this living hell. A shiver crawled up her spine as the images of that night flashed back.

"Dimitar sent ya? Thought he'd forgotten about me by now." Mary leaned on the doorframe, her eyes burning over every curve, every line of your body before their gazes finally locked and reality bit through the haze.

She coughed into her hand, breaking the silence which loomed for a moment.

"Well... if ya wanna come in... it's bloody hot. Better we head up to the rooftop to talk?