Subject Child (BBSx Reader GTAverse)

~/36\~

~*^Your POV^*~

A month. It's been a month since the others had helped rescue me from the clutches of the HDMP. And I hate that I left. But I have no clue what was done to me. I didn't know if I was a danger to them or not.

I sighed at these thoughts as I tied a new (F/C) and blue flame embroidered bandana around my eyes. It was a one way mesh material. I could see out of it, but no one could see in. I checked my outfit in the mirror. I had bought a new jumpsuit, this one being a dark (F/C). I was going out to see my old job dealer. He ran one of the most renowned gang bars in Los Santos.

Looking for a hit man job? He's got you covered. Want to do a heist? You can always turn to him. I was just hoping that he would believe me when I claimed to be Hound.

But I wouldn't be going by that name anymore. Once I told him who I was, I would ask him not to call me by that for a while. Because I had promised that her name wouldn't die off. I would ask him to refer to me as BloodyRose now. I would be a new hit woman, trying to make a living.

I had returned to live in my old apartment. Thankfully, my land lord hasn't sold it off, and I used some of the money I got from our bank heist to pay off the rent. And came up with the excuse that my mother had been sick in the hospital as a reason of absence. But I was getting stir crazy, and I needed to do something. So, I thought that taking a job wouldn't be a bad idea.

It was currently eleven twenty four, which means that the more ruthless and indecent 'hunters' would be arriving at the bar. I'd need to be on my toes. I don't want to start a fight and let my identity slip. Only my dealer could know who I am.

I instinctively reached to my hip, for Icicle. But the memory always hits me like a dream I had forgotten. I had melted it. And after all the burn outs I've been through, that was the first time that it had shown any reaction to my fire. How much heat had I stored up? I shook my head and replaced the empty sheath with my dagger. After locking the door to my apartment and turning off all the lights, I slipped out my window, closing it behind me, but not locking it. I climbed down the fire escape and jumped onto the nearest roof. Since I had some time, I decided to walk across the roofs, only taking the paths where the roofs were close enough together that I could step over each small crevice. I sucked in the cold air, my lungs having missed the freshness after being trapped in that musty place. I let a grin slowly spread across my face until I was showing all fangs. Even if he didn't know who I was by first name basis, my dealer and I were originally friends since I had first found him. I was, what, maybe fifteen when I had first come across his bar. And oho boy, I had made an utter mess of that place when some drunk idiot tried to make a move on me. Of course, I had apologized and helped clean up the blood and corpse. Thankfully, the dude I killed was a soloist. And he was a pretty shitty hit man at that. So my dealer wasn't really that upset when he lost one customer.

I let some of my pent up heat blow away with the cold night air. Now that I was free, I could use my flames whenever I wanted again. Which also means I could use them for my jobs as well.

I dropped from a roof into an alley. Quickly leaving the tiny area, I continued walking down the street. Luckily, no one was out at this time of night. So no one would see me wearing a bandanna with a set of twin black iron katanas and a black iron dagger sheathed upon me. I turned a corner and could already hear the shouts of the bar occupants. This place seemed to almost have gotten more regulars since I had left.

I let another small smile creep onto my face at the thought of seeing my old friend. He would be utterly surprised that I was still alive, after being absent for so long. I turned one last corner and stopped, staring at my old go to job place. It was two stories tall. The bottom floor was the bar along with his office. The top floor was his living quarters. Only those that he really trusted would be given access to his office. And those he only trusted were given his own branded coins to allow entry into his office. I was one of the lucky few.

But there was a guard posted outside the door. That was new. He watched me and my weapons as I walked past him and strode inside. I looked around at my surroundings. Men of all ages sat at tables and the bar. I clucked my tongue at all the people gathered. As I walked through the crowd, everyone went silent and turned my way, taking in my body, my weapons and my bandanna. I was nearly at the office door when a male stepped into my path. I looked up to see a predatory grin on his face.

"You lost, little lady?" He chuckled. I heard some of the other people around me chuckle as well. I returned his smile, but he couldn't see the promise of death glinting in my eyes if he were to ruin everything for me. I could smell the stench of beer on his breath.

"Nope." I popped the 'P'. "Just going to see an old friend." I tried to step around him, but he wouldn't let me go.

"An old friend? Why don't you make a new friend, huh?" He asked, that smile still plastered on his face. I finally pushed past him, and felt his hand grab my arm. "Where'd you think your going?" I looked to his hand, then looked into his eyes. In a flash, I had removed my dagger from its sheath and had pressed it into his wrist, not deep enough to cause any damage, but deep enough to be known as a warning. His eyes widened and he released me, hissing and grabbing at the small slit on his wrist. I looked at the blood that was on the blade of my dagger. Turning around, I licked the blood from the blade. Someone made a gagging sound as I cleaned my blade and reached the office door. The guard outside stopped me, but I quickly flashed him the owners silver coin, the feather designed blade gleaming against the flat surface. The guard knocked on the door, and there was a muffled 'come in'. The guard opened the door for me, and I stepped into the welcoming office. The male at the desk looked up and squinted his blue eyes at me. His blond hair sat plastered against his forehead, and his usual stubble dotted his chin. He sat back in his chair, his usual purple T-shirt glowing in the light.

"Who are you?" He questioned. I gave him my regular fanged grin, and his face melted into recognition as he stood from his desk. "Wait, Hell- I mean Hound?" I giggled as he came around the desk.

"Have you missed me, Brycie?" I said with a light tone. He engulfed me in a hug, and I hugged him back.

"You have no clue how worried I was about you Hound." He mumbled. "Where have you been all this time." I shifted in his embrace.

"Dealing with my past." I answered. I pushed myself from his arms. "But I need a job now." He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought you were with the BBS." I nodded.

"I was, but I'm taking a little break. For all of our safety. Also, can I ask you not to refer to me as Hound for a while?" Bryce nodded.

"What are you going by for now." I stood for a while, not wanting to say it. Because it would make her death definite. But I pushed the name from my mouth.

"BloodyRose." He nodded again. "And if anyone comes asking for me, say you haven't seen me. I just need to stay away from the BBS for a while, until I feel safe enough to go back." He cocked his head to the side.

"They haven't done anything to you, have they." I shook my head, a chuckle pushing past my lips. "And what happened to your mask?" I touched my bandanna.

"It was destroyed." He nodded once more. He never pushed for more of an explanation if I ever gave a vague answer. He knew not to risk pushing me.

"What kind of job you looking for?" I sighed.

"Anything really." He looked me over, his face turning into a frown.

"Not that hard to tell your blood hungry. I have the perfect job for you, BloodyRose." I let an appreciative smile onto my face as he pulled the folder from a drawer and went over the job.