The faint sound of a dial tone…
Clickety-clack of typing…
On one end of the line, a high-pitched masculine voice, C: “You weren’t supposed to relieve me.”
On the other end is a lower-timed feminine voice, L: “I know, but I felt like taking your shift.”
C: “You like her, don’t you? You like watching her.”
L: “Don’t be ridiculous.”
C: “We’re going to kill her, do you understand that?”
L: “Orym believes she is The One.”
C: “Do you?”
L: “It doesn’t matter what I believe.”
C: “You don’t, do you?”
L: Noises. “Did you hear that?”
C: “Hear what?” the older man sounds surprised.
L: “Are you sure this line is clean?”
C: “Yeah, of course, I’m sure.” He begins to ramble about his elite skills before-
L: “-I better go.” Click.
Two squads of police officers can be heard pounding up the metal stairs towards the abandoned floor Laudna is on. One of them uses their boot to break the locked door down. She sits, calmly at the desk, a telephone wired into the wall sits on its receiver.
“FREEZE!” The first cop into the room shouts, his gun raised as he points it towards the back of Laudna’s head.
When she complies, unmoving, he continues loudly. “Hands on your head. Slowly stand up, face the wall!”
While the sleek black leather, skin-tight suit, and edgy angled bob make her somewhat of a spectacle to look at, her slight frame is not formidable. She does what the officer asks, slowly placing both hands on the back of her head.
Outside
“Oh shit, they’re here.” Captain Ratanish swears to himself as he sees three figures step out of an unmarked car. They’re wearing the same damn tailored suit and matching dark sunglasses obscuring their eyes. Each with a little wire coming out of their ear so they can communicate with the Chief.
“I thought I told you not to approach.” Agent Da’leth, the leader, tsk’s at Ratanish.
“I think we can handle one little girl.” Ratanish rolls his eyes at the agent.
“It was for your own protection,” Da’leth replies cooly.
“I sent two squads. They’re bringin’ her down right now.” Ratanish narrows his eyes at Da’leth.
“No Captain. Your men are already dead.” Da’leth motions to the two other agents to proceed.
The Chase
The officer has the handcuffs in one hand as he approaches Laudna from behind. Her hands are unmoving behind her head. As he reaches to cuff her, Laudna wastes no time in spinning the cop’s wrist and breaking his arm. She then disarms him and uses his body as cover momentarily to fire a clip into the other cops entering the room.
Regaining some balance, the first cop moves to overtake the smaller woman. But again, she’s quicker than him. Laudna releases the officer with a quick shove, then jumps into the air higher than a normal person should be able to. Time seems to still in Laudna’s mind as she surveys the room. One door. No open windows. Only one way to get out.
As time snaps back to the present, she delivers a graceful and powerful kick to the officer’s face, snapping his neck. She lands and immediately begins to run, along the side wall, dodging bullets of the remaining two standing officers. They’re barely a nuisance as she deals with them swiftly on her way out of the room.
“Orym, they knew. Somehow.” Laudna breathes heavily into a slim black flip phone.
“I know, they cut the hardline. You’re going to have to find a new exit.” He riddles out a set of instructions for her.
“Are there Agents?”
“Yes.”
She snaps the phone closed and begins to look for a way out. More clanging up the stairs. “Shit.” There’s an agent on his way up, and another one on the ground by the fire escape. She keeps climbing until she’s on the roof. Then, she runs.
A third squad of police and one agent chase her on the roof. The police are having a hard time keeping up but she has to shake the agent. Hopping from roof to roof isn’t losing him. She spies a main street down below, it’s less than a block away. At full speed, she finds the edge of the building’s roof and launches herself fifty-plus feet to the other side. Rolling onto the rooftop, she ducks behind a wall to gain her bearings.
The agent, effortlessly, follows her arc and performs a hard, three-pointed landing. Stopping to adjust their shades, the agent draws a gun from its holster and continues the chase after Laudna.
The Apartment
Music continues to play from her headphones, even though Imogen fell asleep an hour ago. It’s something with no lyrics that isn’t new but isn’t old yet either. The kind of noise that helps her focus when she’s in the hacking mood. A notification flashes on her screen. <follow the skull rat>
She blinks and rubs her eyes blearily. “What, the fuck?”
It’s from an unknown user. She runs a trace and comes back with the same familiar nothing she’s been getting recently from accounts. This wasn’t the first time she had been contacted in this way. It must have something to do with The Matrix.
The last notification just blinked at her, she typed back dumbly. But nothing more came through. “Shit!” She ran a few tests, but nothing. Did she miss her chance? “Shit-fuck!”
A banging on her door interrupts her panicked thoughts.
Imogen pulls her headphones off, uses her shirt to wipe some of the sleep sweat from her face and pushes her lavender bangs out of her eyes. She makes the short walk across her studio apartment to open the door.
Some party friends from across the hall. She doesn’t even remember their names. “Hey, you want to come with us tonight?” The big one, tall and bald but with a thick dark beard. He jingles a small pouch of… something, and smiles. “She’ll like it if you come.” Using his other hand to point a thumb at his much smaller companion.
She has bleach blond hair, done up in matching round buns, and winks at Imogen.
Imogen doesn’t have time for this. She’s also still hungover from yesterday. But she looks over at the shorter woman again. She’s wearing a revealing shirt and the way she’s leaning against Imogen’s door frame is just enough for her to notice the tattoo on her midriff. It’s a greyscale rat with a raven’s skull. It’s oddly specific. Coincidence? Maybe.
“Follow the skull rat.” She mumbles.
Her neighbours blink at her. “Uh, what?” The big guy asks.
“Yeah, I’m in. Just give me a minute to change.” Her neighbours are surprised but seemingly pleased at her response. She hears ‘yips’ from the dark and dank hallway as she slips into something slightly more appropriate for being out in public.
The Club
The music is bassy and loud, she can’t hear herself think – for once. The stuff in the bag her neighbours shared with her helps her disassociate. She’s enjoying the sensation of the beat as it washes over her body. She’s not even sure where the other two have gone off to. Probably to get more drinks. But she isn’t worried, because someone across the dance floor has been eyeing her all night and now is her chance to make a move.
Imogen isn’t much of a dancer but she sways her way over to the individual. The stranger is female presenting, average height, slightly taller than Imogen. She’s thin and has a black bob of hair, impressively angled to hide half her angular face past her chin. The sleek, all-black leather suit is something else.
She makes it a few paces away from the woman and is met the rest of the way. “Dance with me?” the stranger’s voice lilts in a way Imogen’s never heard before, but she’s entranced immediately.
Nodding silently, the woman pushes her into the middle of the dance floor.
“You followed the rat skull.” The woman has a slight smile.
“I did.” Imogen rasps, surprised.
“And you seek more information.” She continues.
“I do.” Imogen is sweating profusely. And it’s not just because she’s sandwiched by sweaty bodies in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
“Good. Because he can’t wait to meet you.” She winks.
“Orym?” Imogen asks in anticipation.
The woman nods.
“And you are…?” Imogen starts.
“I’m Laudna.” The woman replies.
“Wait, The Laudna?” Imogen needs to clarify. “Who hacked the IRS and brought the system down?”
Laudna smiles wryly. “That was a long time ago.”
“I knew that was a woman.” Imogen exclaims, mostly to herself. “Everyone always said it was as dude.”
“Yes, most people tend to think that way don’t they?”
The music is shifting and the swaying and grinding rhythm changes a bit. Laudna looks over Imogen’s shoulder. She follows the other woman’s gaze backwards. Imogen looks forward again when she feels bodies shifting around her. Laudna is now five steps away, she looks back at her briefly before disappearing into the crowd.
The Office
The next day is painful. Why did she go out on a weeknight? again? But then she remembers the skull rat, and Laudna, fleeting as it was. Was that even real? What is real? Those drugs that, Grog-that’s her neighbour’s name, gave her must have been real good. Or real bad. Either way, she has to get to work now or she’ll get written up. Again.
“Ms. Temult.” A man in a well-tailored suit calls her name before she can get to her cubicle. He’s, oddly, wearing dark sunglasses and an earpiece. She must be in more trouble than the last time.
Imogen is beckoned into an office. One wall is glass floor to ceiling, the others are blank. They’re very high up and it makes her stomach queezy. Again, she regrets her activities the night before.
“You have a mediocre record, Ms. Temult.” The man sits down across from her, as he flips through a manila folder. Stopping briefly, he looks up over his tinted glasses. “Da’leth. Ludinus Da’leth.” Introducing himself, before continuing. “You’re late at least once a week, but your work output meets quota. You live by yourself; have relatively low contact with your neighbours. You prefer a quiet life, it would seem.”
She isn’t sure what this guy is getting at, but she’s never seen this Da’leth before. “Is this a performance review?”
“No, Ms. Temult.”
Gods she hates that name. She hates the way it smugly rolls off of this man’s tongue even more.
“By day, you live an ordinary, unspectacular life. You are Imogen Temult. You wake up, you brush your teeth. You go to work, you contribute to society. You help take out your elderly neighbour Zhudanna’s trash.” He stands now, leaning forward slightly on the desk between them. “But by night, you go by the hacker alias ‘Imo’. You’ve made contact with a group of terrorists led by a certain, Orym. Speak if any of this is untrue.”
Imogen isn’t sure how to react. This is all true. Except for maybe the terrorist part. She’s pretty sure, at least, that she hasn’t been chatting with terrorists.
“So, you admit to this fraudulent act.” He looks up, over her shoulder to the door.
“What? No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Imogen starts to stand.
“Too late.” Da’leth smiles, cruelly. Now she wants to punch this ass hole in the face. Two more well-tailored individuals step up and take hold of Imogen’s arms from either side.
She struggles. “What are you doing? I didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sorry Ms. Temult, but this is going to hurt.” Da’leth takes the suitcase one of his colleagues set on the ground and begins assembling a…device.
They pin her to the table, untuck her dress shirt, and place the cold metallic contraption over her belly button. She writhes and squirms to get free, but her captors are unnaturally strong and they hold her like a vice. Da’leth pulls a large glass jar out from behind the desk. Inside a disgusting worm-like creature wriggles, flashing red and green lights from within its translucent skin. He empties it into the top of the metal contraption, before giving her a tight-lipped smile.
The sound of air being squeezed through a small vessel rings out. Imogen gasps as the crawler disappears into the tube and feels it shunted into her stomach. Instantly, the most pain she’s ever felt in her life. And then, nothing.
This is a fan fiction piece, characters are not my own. Everything is completely fictional. It takes place in a cyberpunk world and draws inspiration from Critical Role characters, the Matrix movies, and other post-apocalyptic cyberpunk content.
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