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Escape From Paris 15/?

[(Anonymous)]

(sorry Ann ;_;)
Uffie rubbed her temples when her phone rang. She picked it up on the fifth ring.

“Yes?” She said.

“Anna, turn on the news, it’s terrible.” Pedro’s voice told her. She did as he told until she was seeing live footage of a castle in what was apparently Estonia.

“Shit.” She said.

“Many shots fired earlier today in the normally peaceful town of Rakvere. A major shoot out, possibly a terrorist attack, on Rackvere castle where a young freelance robotician and his roommate were living. The woman was shot to death and the young man was severely brutalized he is in hospital now in intensive care and, we’ve not had this confirmed but witnesses are saying his hands were severed off.”

“Jesus.” Uffie moaned. “What was the point of that?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it was Sebastian’s orders, you know how sadistic he is.” Pedro said. Uffie couldn’t stand hearing him sound so defeated. “But at least he’s still alive, that’s a blessing.”

“It is.” She agreed. “But man, that poor woman. She didn’t think anything would happen guarding him.” Uffie sounded almost guilty. In a way, maybe she was.

Vincent sighed painfully. Getting back to his hotel room sure had been interesting. He had to steal a blanket from the castle to hide his impressive injuries with. He threw the blanket aside and lowered himself slowly onto the bed, wracked with pain. He supposed he deserved it, killing the pretty woman and mutilating that poor little boy. He couldn’t bring himself to kill him too. What the fuck. He hadn’t expected the great Hugo to be a fucking kid. How could someone so young be so smart and well versed in a complex field like robotics?

He groaned when the device rang again. He reached into his pocket weakly and procured it.

“H-Hello?” He said weakly. The brightness of the screen made him wince and the thing plastic almost fell out of his weak grip when he heard Sebastian’s voice.

“I like what I see, Vincent.” He said, pleased again.

“Um…that’s great. What do you see?” Vincent was hardly thinking as he spoke.

“Why, your handy work of course! I wanted that little insect dead but cutting off his hands was pure genius! Now he can’t contribute to the rebel cause, he’s worthless!” Sebastian was glowing at the horrible thing Vincent had done. Vincent gritted his teeth, anger bubbling up but he was too weak and worn out to really think or act on it.

“Thank you, sir.” He said. Sebastian looked at him with some concern.

“Are you alright, my dear? You don’t sound well…” He said.

“Do I look alright?” Vincent held the device further away and gave Sebastian a clear view of his bullet riddled body. He was only bleeding a little bit but he was still in pain and it would take time to heal from all this.

“Oh my god! Vincent, I’m so sorry. I will send Sabine down there immediately!” He said. Vincent blinked.

“Can you…do that? Don’t you need him to push your chair and stuff?” He said, beginning to feel light headed.

“Don’t be stupid, Vincent. He’s a master assassin and surgeon, he can help you. You need his help anyway. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“O-kay.” Vincent muttered, exhausted. The connection severed and he dropped the communicator, falling into a deep sleep. When he woke again, he was nude and Sabine was there, delicately removing shell casings from his torso. His dull eyes darted over to Vincent’s glowing ones.

“I hope I did not startle you. My brother wants me to stay here for a few days, as long as it takes you to fully heal.” He explained, placing the casing down on the table next to him.

“Thanks.” Vincent muttered. Sabine cleared his throat.

“I pulled what looked like the casing for a sniper rifle shell out of your collar region a minute ago. What was that about?” He asked.

“…The woman had a sniper rifle…and she was a pretty good shot…” Vincent explained, before drifting off again.