Their Guardian

Chapter 1

Edited

*Third Person POV*

They had learned to deal with their fears. Once you become immortal, it's hard to find anything that actually scares you. There was only one real source of fear left in their lives, and it was in the stead of each other. They feared for each other in a way that was suffocating, danger was no longer calculated in the way it would affect them, it was now looked at from each other's perspective. In a way they had all become altruistic, and that was something that never bothered them before. Well, until they saw the girl.

She was small, and in a way they thought she looked child-like. Her dainty dress hung in against her thin body, highlighting her tiny stature. Blood was caked into the light fabric, and she shivered with each brush of air. Her eyes are what stopped them. The young look ended with her tired green-eyes, they looked as if they had seen the rise and fall of empires, making them wonder exactly what had happened to her. Her long-dark hair was matted with what looked to be blood, and they found themselves wondering if it could be hers or maybe that innocent little girl had her own taste for blood. In her condition she should have looked broken, defeated, instead they saw a triumph smirk dancing at her lips.It was the look of a winner. 

From her position she could see everything in the room. The three men that stood on the opposite side of the room, all too scared to get close. The tools they kept just in her view so she knew the price for disobedience, a price she had paid far too often. The battery they kept in the corner to remind her of some of her worst nights and last of all the big red door. 

She knew that door well, anytime a dramatic entrance was reserved for some higher ups they put her in this room. She was positive it was a metaphor for Russian power, but she didn't have the energy to hash it out. All she knew for sure was that it was visiting day, and she was not in the mood for company. 

It had been one year sense she was sentenced here, and she knew she was nearing the end of her stay. They had gotten nothing from her, and they were beginning to figure out that they never would. She would sooner die than give anything up, and she felt as though she had a hundred times already. 

Footsteps could be heard, and she put on a bored expression, not having to fake much. A smile tugged at her lips as a familiar presence entered the room, looking much worse than she was.

 "Dad! I've missed you! Did you finally come to take me home?" She said in perfect Russian, using the same innocent tone she always did with him. 

"You lost that right when you betrayed me." His tone was harsh, and the soldiers on the wall flinched at his delivery. 

The girl paid no mind, still playing absently with her scared hand. "Perhaps, but was it not you who talked to me about your hard days at work? Was it not you who insisted I serve you in the lounge when your coworkers were over? Was it not you-"

She was cut off by a hard slap to the face. Her skin burned and tears welled in her eyes. Not because it hurt, it was a biological reaction that only served to heighten his satisfaction. 

The room went silent, watching carefully. Her taunt was well-timed, and now people were beginning to wonder if it was really her who was to blame, not her father who should have known better.

The look he gave her was enough to make grown men cower, and it did as the men turned their gazes to her, yet she stood her ground she was his "daughter" after all, and she knew how to play his game. She may have been younger, but her experience was worth just as much as his. 

"Enough games little bird." She paled slightly, the action going unnoticed by him. "This is your last chance. Where is the base?" This was spoken in her language, in english.  

She denied the change, her cover was Russian, and she never wished for her lives to meet. If she was going to die, she wanted to keep her memories of home untainted. "I don't understand father."

He chuckled darkly and turned towards the corner of the room. Right where the battery was. Silver flashed in her eyes and she locked onto the gun in his waistband. 

A small laugh escaped her lips. Today it is then. She was done, and no matter what happened, she would never see this place again. It made sense they would send her father, he likely requested it, the chance to see his backstabbing daughter beg for her life was something he wouldn't have given up easily.

The other men in the room began to shift nervously. They knew what she had done and why he was angry, but in their minds they still thought of her as his daughter. What the bystanders didn't know was that he never had; she was to be his pawn, instead he was the one who got played. 

His fingers ran over the dials, and the wires attached to her swayed with the new contact. She knew where this was going and forced herself to relax her body, knowing it would be worse if she was tense. 

Her screams echoed throughout the room, she was tough, but she still couldn't help but let go of her composure as the feeling of lightning coursing through her veins. 

Then it stopped, just as quickly as it began... and as she tried to regain what little strength she had left she could make out his voice asking the same question she has heard for months.

"Where is the base, sweetheart?" he asked with fake sympathy. His fingers running over her scarred skin. 

He received the same answer as always "I Don't know" she spoke without even bothering to open her eyes, knowing that they would betray her, so she endured in darkness, almost as if she was scared of the light.

He repeated his actions again and again, each time she gave the same response. He didn't care, and as his laughter rang through the room she knew that it was the sweet sound of her screams and the knowledge that she was suffering that kept him going. 

Like all good things it must end and with that thought heavy in his mind he started to slow his actions. He shut the machine down and took a moment to look at the damage he had caused, it didn't make him feel better, but he figured he at least owed her that, its not often he was beaten and some part of him respected that. The other part of him was angry, and that was what drove his actions: Rage. 

All she could hear was the hammering of her own heart. She had not yet opened her eyes, but she was not afraid, if anything she was relieved. Agent 6 was clocking out. 

With his gun outstretched he approached her for the last time, leveling it at her head, looking for any signs of her nonexistent fear, and he asked the same question as always.

"Sweetheart, where is the base?" he asked for the final time, devoid of any emotion.

She looked at him slowly, raising her head so she could smile at him. "You won't find them" she spoke softly, changing her answer for the first time since she arrived. She closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards accepting the fate that was written for her long ago, thinking of the lives she had saved, and knowing that it was worth it.

When he pulled the trigger, her new life begun, and the dreams began for the first time in two hundred years.