Slippery from the steady rain splattering the metal, her hand slipped off the pole she used to steady her balance. Pulling the earbuds from her ears, she pocketed the cord and removed the katana sheath hilt from insides the folds of the black umbrella rested beside her. Water dripped from her red hair as she tied it into two long and curly pigtails with black ribbon. She wiped the rain from her eyelashes, gaze sliding up to stare at the window shielded by blinds. 

The man was watching her vigilantly. She strode away from the light of the street lamp into the shadows of the night. Her shoes clacked on the sidewalk and splashed in a puddle. 

His two fingers parted slats of his mini blind, eyes darting fervently back and forth. The man watched rain spit on streets vacant of any living presence. Weak yellow light from streetlamps dotted the sidewalk on both sides of the main road. Despite the intent to be comforting, he only felt his fear grow each rapid breath he made. He couldn't see the girl anymore. 

On the other end of his phone line a female voice droned nonsense into his ear, hoping he would end the call himself.

"Hello? Yes, I would like to speak with the head adviser. My relations with him? He's my colleague."  

The woman didn't seem convinced, and he listened to fingers tapping on a computer keyboard. 

"Look, tell him it's about the specimen. He'll answer then."

His mini blind snapped closed as he jerked back and hastened into a smaller room. Alcohol bottles smacked his leather shoes, clattered along the littered floor, and eventually rolled to a stop when they bumped the pin-striped wallpaper covered walls. In the center of the mess a typewriter rested beside stacks of paper in manila folders on a wooden, office desk ruined by age. Crumpled aluminum wrappers overlaid the knobby surface, which his hands easily brushed onto the floor to be company for the massive dust animals. The man used his shoulder to press the plastic cell phone against his ear as a familiar male voice answered on the line; he recognized it to be the man he knew from long ago. 

"What? Data recorded the specimen to be in France before our tracers were cut, but we've known that for months now."

Papers scattered in all directions as he scrambled through his folders, hands holding several different documents he tucked inside an empty, coffee stained portfolio. A long, drawn sigh from the phone caused him to pause, fingers trembling at the silence. For a moment he thought the other man had declared the conversation over. He gulped down the lump formed in his throat, adam's apple bobbing.

"They found out where I was hiding. I need help, if they discover the location of The Water Life Experiment everything we worked for will be finished."

Waiting for a response, the man raked his dirty hands through disheveled and oily swamp brown hair. Eyes darting nervously to the window, he resumed hoarding the massive collections of information, stashed hidden away inside his desk. A few papers stuck in his type-writer were torn out, ink wet and splotchy. When he finally heard another annoyed sigh from his colleague, he knew his fate was sealed neatly like a letter carefully crafted for a lover.

"I just need something for them to get off my trail, please, I helped you towards our dream since the Third World."

All his desperate pleas that were prepared in case of an emergency faded, lost. Months had wasted since the team kicked him off after failing to capture the specimen; the friendship he and his colleague created years ago no longer existed. His firm grasp crumpled one of thousands of papers before being placed onto top the folder stack he subconsciously built. Scratching the stubble growing on his chin, the man ran for his closet, whipping open the door. Mountains of scrolls and science materials tumbled to the ground, glass vials cracking, creating spider web fractures.

"They are going to know where-,"

Steady beeping rang in his ear. His colleague ended the phone call. 

In a fit of rage, he threw the phone against the wall, watching it smash into a mess of wires and plastic. He didn't normally act like this, but his survival called for drastic measures he was unsure to take. Unable to think straight, his palms came to hold his head as he hunkered down in the surrounding pit of garbage. Any minute the monsters designed to protect and now bent on destruction would knock politely on his door, but demanding information that would destroy his entire life's work. A game of cat and mouse had started; they were the cat and he, the struggling mouse. Weak shaky laughs escaped him while he pawed aside rubble to force open a closet door. 

Buried underneath heaps of dirty flasks, crates spilling charts of brain patterns, and musty smelling clothes, a wink of metal gracefully blessed his soul. He grabbed the tail, avoiding spikes jutting all directions that winked dangerously despite the meager, dim lighting. Weighing more than that of a bicycle, he struggled to unearth the limp carcass of a mutated dog-like creature. Dropping its tail to grab the back legs, he dragged its metallic body free. 

Claws caked with dried gore glued to bear shaped paws tapped the wood, entirely machine. Various colorful wires twisted together and hung from it's muscled, fleshy neck squishy to the touch. Authentic fur poking out of the steel plates making the beast robotic oozed black good and water, creating a slimy substance that oiled the main metal body. Spikes like millions of sharp needles studded its tail, the only thing giving it the resemblance of a dog hybrid. 

The man leaned down over the ghastly animal cyborg, staring at the monstrous curved ivory fangs like a saber toothed tiger , so long they grazed its chest. Remnants of his fear melted away, a smile making home on his ragged face. Tiny flickers of hope pulled strings into strumming his heart a melodious tune. It was an older model compared to the extraordinary anomalies his colleague produced, but he felt reassured the cyborg meant for fighting the experiment failures tracking him would prevail. 

Cradling the steel skull like a precious newborn in his arms, he cracked open the jaws, and pressed a small red button on the roof of its mouth. Lifeless robotic eyes flickered alive, glowing a bright, hot red. Orange pinpricks of color swirled violently inside the socket, capturing heat signatures in the vicinity. Inside, gears sputtered dust clouds before contentedly humming. The man stepped back as the beast slowly scratched at the floor, deep gouges marking up the wood. Sparks jumped from the spiked shoulder blades as it crawled to its paws, staggering clumsily. Growls bubbled up the cyborg dog's throat.

Turning so the dormant machine could reboot, the man began gathering several folders into his arms. Scurrying back and forth, he grabbed whatever his reached. A knife went into his lab coat pocket, more papers stashed into the folders.

Minutes later, he held a flaming match, standing over his desk. Smoked curled towards the ceiling, fire eating quickly at the tiny wood stick. His eyes watched the flickering light, unable to move away as he dropped the match onto the alcohol soaked surface.

Heat scorched his face, glasses breaking under the intense pressure. Stepping back, holding the files at his head, he darted out of the blazing room. The cyborg had moved towards his front door during his mourning of research, nose pressed against the crack. Deep chested inhales drowned the crackling noise of burning items.

He knew she was here when a silver blade suddenly jutted from the door without warning, and the cyborg dog bellowed out a metallic roar. Running, he stumbled into his kitchen, listening to his door groan pitifully under the attack from both sides. Opening the sink window, he caught a glimpse of a young girl with red pigtails force her way into the room, brandishing a silver katana. She sneered excitedly at the beast lunging at her, steel weapon connecting with steel fangs snapping dangerously close to her face.

Chuckling, the man dropped the files on the metal staircase outside his window and heaved himself through, listening the beast's frame collide into a nearby wall. Falling onto a staircase, he grabbed his meager belongings and ran down the steps into the alleyway. He entered the main city roads just in walking distance of his apartment complex, close to hundreds of people, many witnesses that could take notice of his death.

Neon signs fizzed as rain landed on their lights, welcoming visitors to the shops with painted black windows. Night owls wandered the streets, passing stacks of bills to watchmen. A few paused to stare at him with indifferent expressions, though a few were hiding their curiosity. Not a single one however, wondered why a drunk man in a lab coat ran like the recovering world was about to experience another catastrophe. They soon discovered the cause of his apparent fear when wails echoed over the pounding rain and the girl walking down the road, holding something in her hand while her other occupied a sword. 

Skyscrapers loomed over his head as he fled deeper into what was left of New York. Deeper in the city brightly lit signs illuminated dark streets, exposing the people who flooded the sidewalks. Heads clad with flower printed hats and ribbons turned while eyes ranging from cyan to violet stared at him retreat further into the city

 The man gratefully accepted their ignorant sights, allowing himself to drown in their presences immersed in their lives of naivety. Sequin jackets, wildly fashioned hair and an array of painted faces became the sea he vanished inside. Smiles flashed at easy prey while others whispered in wonder as they watched from outside dining tables. His destination appeared to be the subway stations, his gaze relieved as he came closer to the cement pillars and gaping tunnels. A few questioned if he was on the run from the squads, and no one inquired on his appearance afterwards. Their gazes soon came to notice the girl listening to music, face dripping with rain. 

It was a damp alleyway that he collapsed on the cobblestone, breaths escaping his asthmatic lungs in dying breathes. His childhood consisted of bed rest and loving treatment due to his condition, he didn't understand how demanding running from the enemy could be. The folders he was holding slumped down his chest to the ground. His hand tugged at his sweat ringed shirt, and he closed his eyes to try and gather his bearings.

"Did you really think that outdated thing could best me?"

The man bolted to his feet, forgetting about the files piled at his shoes, soaking up water from a growing puddle. Meters away stood the slender and tall, proud and regal girl just out of grade school. Silky dark red curls, coiled tightly up into strands of pigtails, hung loosely off her shoulders as she dramatically tilted her head upwards in disgust. Narrowed emerald green eyes, sharper than the gem matched her dangerous seductive smile. A beautiful sword sheath decorated with Japanese cherry blossoms was slung across her shoulders, blade half drawn. She kept her hands behind her back, hiding something.

"I brought you a gift," her smile brightened, delighted as she stalked closer to her frightened catch. She threw an object toward him and it made a thud, metal screeching along the concrete. The man stared down at the robotic head of his cyborg. Water gushed from inside the jelly flesh substance, stray wires hissing at the liquid. Glowing blue fluid dripped from its opened jaws.

"Oh god, I'm going to be sick." The man clutched a shaking hand to his mouth, but vomit gushed passed through slits in his fingers, splashing against the stone.

"It was really easy to kill, much easier than the newer models." The girl continued, unsheathing her katana slick with the watery goo. Her nose wrinkled cutely at the sight, though her harsh scolding made her sight ugly. "I'd thought you'd be better than that, Earnest."

The man wiped spit dotting his mouth with his coat sleeve, his hands blindly scrambling for the folders. They warmed his frozen fingers, comforted his pounding heart, and cleared his hazy mind. He could still get out of this alive. "What do you want?" his question came out hoarse.

The girl wrapped a strand of red hair around her finger while she tapped the tip of her blade on the stone. "I want a lot of things, it was so kind of you to ask. Let's see, a kiss from Nikolaus, the death of a certain idiot receptionist or maybe a sword made of gold." Each idea she listed on her pedicured fingers. Her eyes slid land back on his face. "Come on Berry, do I have ask nicely? You know what we want."

Berry Earnest regarded her, looking at her a psychiatrist might a mentally insane person. "Nikolaus? That damaged good is alive?"

His statement stopped her in her tracks, the girl's cheeks flushed red as a tomato. "Don't you dare say that, you pest!" The delicate fluttery tone she held turned into a savage shriek.

Getting to his feet, Berry flipped open the switch to his pocket knife in his coat pocket, and flung it at the girl's head. He didn't wait to see her enraged reaction, fleeing in the opposite direction. Two rights, down a lane, and one left he would arrive at the subway station. His registration card would be all it took for the conductor to put on the gears. Hours on the train he could be miles from the city and heading across the sea. Freedom in a matter of minutes if he safely reached the station.

Sprinting as fast as his weak legs could manage, he cried when his foot touched shadows dancing underneath cement pillars holding the train bridge. A few feet, he could make it, his colleague wouldn't ever doubt his skill.

He heard the whistle of the blade rushing through air before he felt the agonizing pain as it sank deep into his calf. Dropping to the ground, he lost his grip on the folders, loose papers fluttering in random directions. Gasping, he slammed his fist to the pavement, tears blurring his eyes. Sitting up, defeated, he looked at his right leg to see the hilt of his own pocket knife, metal twisted in muscle down to the bone.

Above his head the tracks rumbled as a train sped over them, loose pebbles clattering onto the ground and into his hair.

"I really hate you Berry Earnest, I'll be glad when my sword slices through your rotting flesh." The girl walked from the shadows, her face scrunched up as she poorly handled her anger. She held her sword in both hands, tenderly gazing at the steel. "You should be honored to die by my hand."

Berry allowed snot and tears to streak his grime stained face as he sobbed, gash on his head leaking blood into his eyes. "You can't kill me, you need me for information!"

The girl blinked in mock surprise, her lips pursed. She then burst out in laughter, the alluring sounds sweet for him to hear before his death. "We have no desire for you, I only need those papers. Don't fool yourself."

"Then why are you going to kill me? Here, have them!" Berry flung the folders and papers at her, trying to inch his way toward the subway station. He crawled to his feet, dragging his injured limb behind him.

The girl stooped down to pick up the papers, collecting them gently in neat stacks until she could fit them in the crook of her arm. Her gaze floated to stare at the bottom of the train bridge. She tapped an ear piece on her left side. "Can I kill him now? I kind of feel bad watching him."

There was a static crackle in her ear as a voice in a comm gave her the go ahead. Sighing, the girl flipped her pigtails behind her and picked up her katana she had set aside. "Now, where were we? Oh right," she hummed to herself, walking towards the struggling human.

Berry cursed and cried as she came closer, moving a little faster in an attempt to rescue his doomed life.

The girl crouched in a mid-lunge, represented a cougar ready to spring onto its prey. Darting forward, her blade struck meaty flesh, the silver tip drenched in red poking out of Berry's chest. Croaking cries escaped him as she slid her blade back out, and swiped it to the side, blood splattering the ground.

Berry's body thumped heavily to the ground, the light quickly fading from his eyes as a red pool formed around him, soaking his clothes and face. The last he thought was how close he had been to the stairs of the subway train; he could just see them from underneath the train archway.

The girl nudged his warm body with her foot, head cocked to the side as she determined if he was fully dead. His chest remained still instead of the steady rise and fall, so she sheathed her sword with a metallic clack.

"I did the deed and followed all the rules." The girl pressed a button on the earpiece tucked inside her ear canal.

A static voice quickly responded, a young male praising her going through the procedures without any casualties.

"No need to thank me, Nikolaus. I would do anything for you." The girl giggled like girls her age normally acted, a light blush creeping onto her face. "I'll arrive in the underground soon, but first, I'm going to eat. I heard of a restaurant that serves old culture meals. I want to try them." She glanced at the body, deciding the squad can find it. They needed to know of their presence.

The voice crackled in her ear again, this time getting her to laugh excitedly. Her stomach gurgled happily at the mention of food. She always liked to eat after a hard day on the field.