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c0ffee-stain · 11 months

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Whispers

Five Hargreeves x f!reader

Blurb • Prologue - 1.0 • Chapter 1 - 1.01 • Chapter 2 - 1.02 • Chapter 3 - 1.03 • Chapter 4 - 1.04 • Chapter 5 - 1.05 • Chapter 6 - 1.06 • Chapter 7 - 1.07 • Chapter 8 - 1.08 •

Denial

The scratches and taps of chalk against the boy's bedroom wall, along with the gentle breeze whistling outside the window was enough to slowly lull me into a state of peace I hadn't felt in years. The usual quiet and calm nature of the Hargreeves estate differed immensely to the lively, bustling headquarters of the Commission. A place where people were afraid to sleep in fears of waking up with a knife in their back, or not waking up at all.

A thought passed through my mind, forcing the ends of my lips to curl upwards in a sly manner. Even though I despised the Hargreeves family and everything they stood for, I couldn't deny the beauty of the house, with its grand, rich ebony doors, exposed brick, and meticulous fireplace.

A great location to purchase once my mission is completed and my retirement begins. My mind quickly crafted a plan to purchase the house several decades before the Umbrella Academy decided to make it theirs, and stick to the natural antiquity of the estate.

The loud screech of chalk against the wall pulled me out of my thoughts to focus on the boy in uniform in front of me, who was standing atop his bed. I grimaced at the sound and saw that Five had abruptly stopped and was now faced towards me.

His features were filled with distaste while watching my figure that was sprawled out over his chair, but quickly softened as he addressed his dear wife.

"I think I've got something, Delores."

"And what's that?" I responded, my annoyance clear.

"I wasn't talking to you." Five turned to face his chalkboard of a wall again, circling what looked to be a group of names.

"Yes, you made that very clear," I rolled my eyes and readjusted my position on the chair. "but I thought that since you dragged me into your mess without my consent and expect us to work together, I'd know what the fuck you've been doing for the last hour."

An agitated sigh escaped his lips as the boy bit his tongue to stop himself from releasing a colourful collection of curses. Things had to remain civil at the least if he wanted to make some progress. Even if it meant sacrificing his pride, he would endure the annoyance and pain I’d constantly bring him.

The boys mouth opened to finally give me even the slightest bit of information, only for the door to burst open to reveal Luther strolling in, his face contorted in confusion once his gaze met the equations sprawled out on his brothers room.

"What's all this?"

"It's a probability map."

"Probability of what?"

"Of who's death could save the world."

If the brothers noticed my sudden jolt on interest and the way my head snapped towards them, they didn't comment. I was quick to suck in a deep breath to stop the corners of my lips from tugging upwards a bit too much.

"I've narrowed it down to four."

"Are you saying one of these people cause the apocalypse?"

"No, I'm saying their death might prevent it." Five responded, his eyes drifting to his brother's before landing on mine, lingering for a little too long. A faint alarm began to ring in my mind at the assassins brief but significant extended glance. There was something hidden deep behind the sea of green in his eyes.

Suspicion.

Four names. Four possibilities. All I needed was four minutes- less even. The key to end the cycle of murder, fear and pain I've been trapped in my whole life was right in front of me. The chalk written names were practically taunting me, begging me to kill the two brothers standing with their backs turned to me like cattle moments away from being slaughtered.

All I'd need is four minutes. But I knew it was too soon and too risky. I had to wait a little longer, make Jasper wait a little longer.

Just a few minutes longer.

"Oh." Luther paused. "I still don't get it."

Five turned to his brother and fiddled with the chalk between his fingers. He was excited, clearly. Excited and relieved that he had found a possible answer to the problem he had been forced to endure all throughout his life, forced to endure the everlasting consequences he couldn't even begin to imagine before he made that fateful jump. He also needed a few minutes longer until his suffering was over.

I couldn't wait to see the look of total despair on his face once he realises that his efforts were for nothing.

"Time is fickle, Luther. The slightest alteration in events can lead to massively different outcomes in the time continuum. The butterfly effect." This, Luther seemed to understand.

"So all I have to do is find the people with the greatest probability of impacting the time line, wherever they may be, and kill them." The boy finally explained, expelling some of the tension within him.

I made my way to the wall and onto Five's bed, standing on top as I memorised each name imprinted on the wall.

Milton Green. Aleks Cameron. KC Chavez. Robert Palko.

"Milton Green," The name left my mouth in a low murmur. "That's the person you found most likely?"

"Is he a terrorist or something, Five?"

Said brother looked up and squinted his eyes as he tried to read the names off of his wall. He began to quickly scrawl the names into his notebook before stating, "I believe he is a gardener."

"A murderous gardener." I added, quick to notice the shock pull at his face.

I jumped off the bed and pulled on the long jumper that hung behind my previous seat, shooting an innocent smile at the man.

"Wait, this is madness, Five-" Luther extended his arms in bewilderment as his voice began to increase in volume from the shock of the situation presented before him. He span to face me, pointing an accusatory finger at my figure. "You--"

However his attention was stolen away from me and to his brother pulling out a large case from under his bed containing a rifle.

"Feeling nostalgic, aren't we?" My mouth tilted into an lopsided grin, one I knew the boy beside me despised.

Betraying the composed attitude he had tried to maintain for all 24 hours, Five twisted his neck to face me, a tight lipped smile gracing his lips. "If I was really feeling nostalgic then I'd do what I did in Copenhagen." His hands delicately removed the rifle from its case, the weapon sitting perfectly in his calloused hands while his eyes shifted to mine like they did before.

"It seems that you've forgotten what I did in retaliation to your... bold actions."

"Oh," Five chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he looked through the rifles scope. "How could I forget?"

An unwelcome voice tore through the tense atmosphere, the bubbles of anger brewing beneath Five and I's skin being directed to his brothers sputtering.

"But you guys can't- This guy Milton is just an innocent man."

"It's basic math." Five cut him off abruptly. "His death could potentially save the lives of billions. If I did nothing he'd be dead in four days anyway. The apocalypse won't spare anyone."

"We don't do this kind of thing."

"We are not doing anything." His words came out in a drawl, his tone forming into one someone would use when dumbing something down for a child.

A breathy exhale left my lungs and my lips pressed together tightly. I could practically feel the precious time that could've been used quickly slip through my fingers as the two Hargreeves continued bickering as if they had all the time in the world.

"I can't let you go and kill innocent people. No matter how many lives you'll save."

"You're serious?" My face twisted to display an expression that practically reeked in distaste for the man in front of me. "How do you know their innocent?"

Luther snapped his neck towards me, "How do you know their guilty?"

My eyes shifted towards Five for a second, noticing he was looking at me with the same baffled look in his eyes, before I turned back to the man that stood at over 6-feet.

"You're serious?" I deadpanned. "How thick is that skull of yours? Have you not been listening to a single word said? Do you have some sort of mental condition that I should take into consideration?" The questions that easily rolled off my tongue seemed to cause the mans brain to short-circuit at the sudden verbal attack he couldn't tell was sarcasm or not.

His mouth opened and closed, mirroring a goldfish stranded out on land. While his lips faltered to utter a word as his voice lodged in his throat, his determination and false assumption that we would consider listen to him because he was dubbed, 'number one' as a child seemed to be stronger than the shock and spike at his ego.

The click of Five's tongue against the roof of his mouth rang across the room. "That seems to be our cue." He uttered between gritted teeth and his eyes flickered to mine with a small, reluctant nod of his head.

Having to rely on his siblings usually took a toll on the boy's pride and ego. I couldn't imagine the annoyance brimming in his tiny body having to trust me of all people. The thought brought a faint smile to my lips.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Oh for fucks sake--" An embarrassing squeal tore from the depths of my vocal chords as I was suddenly grabbed by the back of my collar by a large hand, and swung across and out of the room, dangling from outside a window.

I looked down, a wave of deja-vu washing over me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screeched, looking up at the man that nonchalantly gripped my collar with a few fingers, unbothered by the predicament I was in.

If I was asked who the last person I'd trust with my life would be, I'd pick the asshat taunting me with sudden death by heights. And coming from someone who was a field agent for The Commission, that was something I'd never thought I'd consider.

To think that my partner of sorts would come to my aid was a stupid thought I wish I didn't have. The second my head span to look inside the room, expecting the boy to pull out his rifle in retaliation, my brows furrowed and forehead creased to see him do absolutely nothing.

"You asshole!" I seethed, my skin burning from the raw rage coursing through my veins. "What the fuck do you think you're doing standing there? Tell you're gorilla of a brother to put me down!"

An awkward silence stuffed the already small room as Luther and I watched Five carefully for his reaction. Apart from the brief tensing of the jaw, an annoyed sigh, and the shuffling of the weapon in his hands, the assassin remained unbothered, planted to his spot as he watched the scene before him unfold. The only emotion in his stiff face being the upwards twitch of his lips in amusement.

My lips parted and eyes narrowed in a mixture of irritation and shock, Luther's face creasing into a similar expression.

"Wait, you're seriously not gonna do anything?" The bewilderment in Luther's voice seemed to go into Five's ear and out the other. The man looked down towards my dangling figure, embarrassment burning through him as his face flushed red. However once he turned back to face his brother, a certain mannequin caught his eye and another lightbulb lit in his brain.

He reached over to his side and grabbed Delores, who was sitting peacefully on a chair, and with his free arm dangled the plastic doll out of the window beside me.

The sight of Five's wife being manhandled across the room and threatened with the possibility of being dropped several metres onto the concrete pavement, seemed to cause something to snap within him.

In a spilt second, the rifle was held tightly between the boys fingers and aimed directly at Luther's head, his face pulled into a sneer with his jaw clenched dangerously tight.

"Put... her... down." His voice came out in deep, measured breaths, using all the strength he could muster not to pull the trigger while eyeing his brother through the scope.

"Put the gun down," The blond watched Five cautiously, subconsciously tightening his grip on my collar. "You're not killing anyone."

If someone had told me that Five's face could tense more than it is now, I would've simply laughed in their face. A short, exasperated burst of a laugh left my lips at the sight of the veins pushing beneath Five's pale skin so tightly that I wouldn't be surprised if they'd burst any time soon. All because of a plastic torso with a head.

While here I was, being threatened with death, not even wanting to be here in the first place.

"I know she's important to you, so don't make me do this." Luther spoke, testing to see how is brother would react at the words carefully rolling off his tongue. His voice dropped an octave, trying to make sure things remained civil. "It's either her or the gun."

I shook my head, blood boiling beneath my skin, knowing very well the man was referring to the plastic doll next to me.

Five adjusted his stance and grip on the gun. His body twitched and grip trembled as he fought the war taking place inside him. His tongue darted out to hastily lick his lips before getting back to grinding his teeth.

In any other situation, I'd think he was experiencing paradox psychosis.

"You decide."

For a moment, I thought Five was going to give in to his brothers words, with the way the pistol faltered from its aim and his breathing seemed to steady.

But then I remembered. I was dealing with Five Hargreeves.

My eyes snapped open from their tired slant once I felt Luther grab a larger fistful of the fabric of my clothes, before easily throwing me out of the window as if it were some sort of second nature.

A surprised, "Shit." was all I was able to say. An odd wave of numbness washed over me, contradicting the uneasiness that churned in my stomach as my body hung mid-air for a brief moment. I quickly contemplated all my life decisions that brought me here. Here in the spectacular scene of being discarded like trash into a dumpster by none other than Luther-fucking-Hargreeves.

My eyes made contact with a flash of blue swallowing the mannequin that was thrown beside me, whole. I rolled my eyes back at the ridiculousness playing out in front of me.

Of course the idiot was going to save his non-sentient wife over the person he kidnapped, drugged and practically forced by his side to save the world.

Wind rushed against my body falling through the polluted city air, and the thought of using a familiar... asset of mine to save myself was only proving to be more reliable than betting on the idea that the assassin might just save me from my impending doom.

I flexed my hands, my body tingling as the sensation began to course through my veins. My ears drowned out the rush of wind and focussed on the incomprehensible voices clawing at my skull for even a second of attention.

In a few seconds, I was going to reveal my greatest strength and greatest weakness all at once.

'At last--'

A shocked gasp left my lips at the feeling of a pair of hands digging tightly into my waist, and a sudden disorientation flooding my mind and body. Instead of making contact with the harsh concrete awaiting my fall, I found myself standing in the middle of Five's bedroom as if nothing had happened.

I looked down at my feet and back up again, making eye contact with the two brothers staring at me. One with a look of cautiousness and regret, whilst the other scoffed in amusement at my dishevelled hair and rapidly blinking eyes.

"You look constipated." Five said, in a matter-of-fact tone. Quicker than I could re-assemble my thoughts, he roughly grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled my towards him as we left the room and travelled through the houses myriad of corridors.

Before the boy could manhandle me any more, I stopped in my tracks and shoved his iron-clad grip off of my shoulder.

"What are you doing--!"

I cut him off, barely able to contain the irritation with the male standing in front of me. "No," I forced out a laugh. "What the fuck are you doing, Five?" I shoved my index finger against his forehead and watched his eyes widen in anger.

"The apocalypse is in two fucking days and you've done absolutely nothing. We are nowhere closer to saving this damned world and the fucking Handler is breathing down our necks, ready to send more agents our way." I seethed between clenched teeth. "So tell me," I licked my cracked lips, "what on earth does that smooth brain of yours plan to do now?"

"What I plan to do next?" Five shook his head and scoffed. "No no, the real question is what do you plan to do next." He pulled his finger back and flicked it against my forehead in retaliation. "You think I don't know you?" He began, his biting tone accompanying the cruel grin stretched on his lips.

“You think I don’t see through your whole act? Well news flash, I fucking do.” He enunciated each word, jabbing his finger with every syllable. “I don’t know what your hiding or what you’re planning, but once I find out, I’ll do to you what I plan to do to that apocalypse-starting gardener I’m just itching to get my hands on.”

The bustling and muted voice of Luther upstairs caused the boy to scoff as his brother called out our names.

Five pressed his lips into a thin line as he proceeded to look me dead in the eyes, his cold gaze attempting to find any cracks in the barriers caging my emotions from spilling into the open. No matter how heated things would get, the boy knew nothing more of what rummaged in my mind other than the obvious irritation and hatred towards him.

It angered Five to no extent.

He struggled to find what exactly fazed me, struggled to see past the anger he already knew too well, and into the malicious thoughts he was certain crept with full intent in the back of my mind, ready to strike.

When confronted with the emptiness of my eyes he felt more vulnerable than ever. Because in Five’s experience, not knowing is worse than death could ever be.

Even now, he watched as I bit down on my tongue and the slight bulge on my veins with slight curiosity for as to what lurked beneath the restraints I kept in place.

But he was certain he was going to find out. One way or another, he was going to find his leverage and gain the control he longed to hold.

Alas for now, he was stuck with the ever-growing pit of anxiety digging deeper in his stomach.

Heavy stomps creaking with every step tore Fives attention from the depths of his thoughts and to his brother who was hastily walking towards us, somewhat relieved that we hadn’t left yet.

“So…” My lips ticked downwards at Luther’s constant unwelcome intrusions. “Where are we heading off too?”

------

I took my seat in Five's car, drowning out the faint pulsing of pain from my shoulder and instead focussed on Luther's burning stares against my temple. I turned my neck and watched as he reluctantly took residence in the back, the van creaking from his sudden weight.

"You didn't answer my question--"

Five slammed his foot against the pedal, the vehicle suddenly accelerating forwards with a harsh BOOM thudding from what sounded to be Luther falling back against the floor, or his skull cracking open.

Hopefully the latter.

I shifted my concentration to the driver, not sure whether to be concerned or not at his reckless driving. With every red light in our way, Five only increased the cars speed, just barely evading a fatal collision. Confident he was trying to get us killed, I swiftly put my seatbelt on and eyed the boy carefully as if he'd burst beneath the pressure of my gaze.

"I'm pretty sure you just sped past a bunch of police trucks..." Luther’s murmurs went unheard beneath the faint sirens and wind rushing harshly against the vehicle. I could practically feel the man’s blood pressure rise with every second he stayed in the car.

Finally the car began to slow down as we drove into a secluded area a few miles from the city. With furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, I looked ahead, the only thing meeting my stare being the countless acres of land isolating us from the rest of society.

That's when a very possible thought etched its way into my mind. It was more than likely that Five Hargreeves was going to kill me, and the only reason he brought Luther was to keep me restrained so he could do his biddings more efficiently. As if confirming my thoughts, the van suddenly stopped, the tires screeching against the concrete roads at the abruptness of Five's foot stamping on the breaks.

No one dared to move an inch of a muscle or let out even the slightest of sounds. Breaking the tense atmosphere, Five sighed inwardly.

"Out." Five said, almost boredly.

"What?" I spat in response.

This time he turned to face me entirely. "Out," He repeated. "now."

I started at him and his unwavering expression. So I was right, he really was going to kill me. The only thing left was for me to figure out was how he intended to do so. I scoffed at the thought of him running me over, but nevertheless did as I was oh- so nicely told. My lips twisted into a sneer as I gave him a final glare, getting out of the car with an aggressive slam of the door, and marched ahead while digging my hands furiously into the oversized, grey zip up sweater I had found back in Diego's 'apartment'.

I span on my heels to face the duo talking in the car and froze at the sight of a briefcase sitting between the brothers.

Now it was clearer than ever what the assassin was trying to do.

On cue, the rev of an engine announcing one of the most infamous duos of the Commission, tore through the solitude of the countryside, signalling Five and Luther to exit the car, the case securely held in Luthers hand.

I bit down on my lip, hard. The metallic taste of blood helping to prevent myself from slapping five across the face and stealing the case for myself. Nevertheless, I locked these impulses deep within me as the brothers stood beside me, collectively watching their vehicle come to a stop several metres behind us.

"If this all goes sideways, do me a favour and tell Delores I'm sorry."

I held back a snort and rolled my eyes which seemed to catch Five's attention immediately. Hazel and Cha Cha finally left the car and walked towards us, Five and I doing the same until we were only a few steps apart.

“Are the masks really necessary?”

The duo gave the other a glance before stripping the sweaty plastic from their faces. Cha Cha's eyes shifted to Five, than me, and back to the boy. "So, where is it, kid?"

"Wow, that's how you're gonna start. You know, we can get right back in our car and call it a day."

A gun was quickly in her hands as she threatened, "You won't even make it halfway there."

"Maybe." Five maintained his composure. "But as I'm sure you found out in your previous foray, my brother is not your average giant."

"He's right." Hazel turned to Cha Cha. "You dropped a chandelier on him, got right back up."

"By the time you took him out, he'd smash your precious briefcase to a pulp."

"Probably us too, right?" Hazel confronted. "So how do we help each other?"

"I need you to get in contact with your superior so I can have a chat with her."

I physically tensed, my jaw clenching and mouth going dry upon hearing that soon, I'd have to explain to The Handler as to why I hadn't updated her on Five's progress for hours.

"About what?"

"I don't believe that's any if your concern." Five's voice was calm, too calm, only further fuelling the anxiety practically crawling up my throat and burning through my chest.

Cha Cha scoffed. "Oh really? Well you still haven't told us who this one is." She now pointed the silver gun at my figure, her eyes scanning my body and my face intensely, only for them to flicker in recognition.

"Look at that." She cocked her head to the side. "Well if it isn't the Commissions prized bloodhound." Her lips twisted downwards in distaste and her voice dripped in anger. "I still haven't forgotten what you did in Cairo."

I smiled a toothy grin. "Neither have I."

"So is it a deal or what?" Five quickly cut in, not forgetting to shoot me a glare.

The woman licked her lips, annoyed. "Just don't tell her about the briefcase."

"Fair enough."

With the final words exchanged closing the deal between the agents, Hazel and Cha Cha walked towards the payphone as Five and I retreated ourselves, taking measured steps away from the pair.

"What the hell was that?" Five seethed, keeping his voice low. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

I rolled my eyes and proceeded to walk towards Luther who was holding the briefcase a little too tightly for my liking. We watched as Cha Cha began dialling a number, peering over her shoulder towards us, along with Hazel's finger hovering above the trigger as a warning.

"What happens now?" Luther kept his eyes glued on the enemy ahead.

"Now we wait."

Anxiety swarmed through my body, invading the sane piece of mind I desperately tried to hold. I cracked my knuckles and gnawed down on my lip while my foot tapped impatiently against the road. Sure it was only a few seconds of waiting idly. But those few seconds stretched out into hours as the same thought consumed my brain, like a python unhinging its jaw and swallowing its prey whole.

The words, 'What if' rang in my skull like a mantra. And they were right to do so, because right now, just like she had my whole life, The Handler held all the cards and was just waiting to play her next move.

A quiet ring of a lullaby pulled me out of the depths of my thoughts, leaving me as confused as the rest. I turned my head towards the direction everyone was looking, surprised to see an ice cream truck of all things approach us at high speeds, the lullaby getting louder by the second.

"Is that her?"

The ice cream truck zoomed right past us and Luther immediately got his answer. In the truck sat a waving Klaus who looked excited to be here, and Diego whose expression turned from blank, to shocked as he saw his lost hoodie draping over my figure.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Five asked, our necks turning simultaneously to watch the truck start to accelerate as they approached the agents.

"It's a set up!" The duo aimed their guns at us and began shooting, a bullet just grazing my side. Five and I dove behind Luther just in time, said brother lifting his arms and shielding us with his body.

"What the hell was that!" I whisper-yelled.

Five glanced at me, then to my injured shoulder for split second before he groaned in frustration. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Well they're your brothers, aren't they?"

His lips parted to retort with his own response, only for an eerily familiar feeling to wash over us. One that still made a shiver run up my spine to this day.

I stepped out beside Luther, peering at his body frozen in time. I looked at Five and gave him a knowing look, a look that seemed to summon the devil herself.

"Neat trick isn't it?" A woman's voice spoke softly, juxtaposing the way the hairs on my nape stood while adrenaline coursed through my body. It seemed that my gut was leaning more towards flight than fight, but I stood my ground and faced the woman, glaring deep into her eyes hidden beneath her shades.

If Five could hear the way my heart was pumping loudly beneath my veins, he didn't say. The Handler removed her sunglasses and smiled.

"Hello, Five," Her eyes then shifted to mine, the corners of her mouth twisting upwards in an emotion I couldn't quite make out. But something within me screamed to steal the briefcase out of Luther’s frozen hold, warning me of the dangers beneath the blue glaciers of her eyes that seemed to be getting closer and closer to puncturing through my well seamed coat of armour I’ve been hiding under my whole life.

I knew I’d regret not giving into my gut instincts but for now, I kept my feet planted in place and fists clenched.

The Handler knew she had won right then and there, and for once, the woman’s smile reached her eyes.

"Hello, Y/n."

I could feel the taste of failure slowly start to creep on my tongue, attempting to scorch any schemes present into ash.

But I knew all too well that the war had just begun, and almost feared the extents I would go to accomplish what I was here for in the first place.

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c0ffee-stain · 1 year

Text

Whispers

Five Hargreeves x f!reader

Blurb • Prologue - 1.0 • Chapter 1 - 1.01 • Chapter 2 - 1.02 • Chapter 3 - 1.03 • Chapter 4 - 1.04 • Chapter 5 - 1.05 • Chapter 6 - 1.06 • Chapter 7 - 1.07 • Chapter 8 •

Warning: Contains: fighting, blood, the usual swearing

Nothing But a Puppet

Date: REDACTED, 1955 Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ Time: REDACTED

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

The shattering of glass rattled the Commissions first floor and everyone nearby. I reached for anything closest to me, in this case a stapler, and threw it with a great force through a large glass barrier dividing a few analysts and their seniors.

I dragged the back of my hand across the gash cut along my cheek bone and winced slightly after discovering yet again another bruise.

My tongue throbbed slightly, trying to distract my mind from formulating a well-planned murder that involved two people. A blonde with no wish other than to make my life a living hell, and- I couldn’t even finish the thought as it seemed so ridiculous in the first place. Not my plan that’d bring me nothing but glee, but the fact that I had to deal with this asshole in the first place.

I scoffed as blood slowly pooled into my mouth, the rich metallic taste forcing the corners of mouth to twist upwards in rage, forming a smile which didn't reach my eyes.

I took my gun out of my pocket and sighed inwardly, quickly remembering I was out of bullets. But that was fine. It wasn’t like a certain Handlers office was a fully loaded arsenal.

Plenty of weapons to use in there.

With every step I took, a group of eyes would avert my way, whispers of gossip accompanying their intrusive stares as they layed their eyes on my bruised, battered, and bloodied body.

Envy of my past reputation overtook my mind and any ounce of self-respect I once had left was long gone. Before, those pathetic workers didn't dare lay their eyes on me for too long in fear of my reputation and I was able to slip under the radar unnoticed and undisturbed. But it seemed that my previous engagement had circulated around the headquarters faster than I could've disposed of the evidence.

Finally reaching her office, I slammed my bruised fists against her door, repeatedly, trying to keep myself from wrenching the door out of its place and grabbing her by the neck. I slammed my fists once more until the door was pulled open, my eyes meeting the woman’s stare that was clearly trying to hide her irritation. Whether it was the fact that I was alive or that I had interrupted her beauty sleep, I would never know.

“Oh, It's you.” She looked me up and down, forcing a smile onto her red coated lips. “Come in. Or are you unable to control yourself with so many weapons present? It’ll be a shame to cut our deal short.”

“If I didn’t have any self control you would’ve been six feet under from the very moment I met you.”

The woman chuckled bitterly, her eyes drifting to the crowd now roaming behind us, waiting eagerly for her response.

“Why don’t we take this to my office. I’ve got a jar of candy calling your name.”

I followed her in, The Handlers white glossy heels clacking audibly before taking a seat behind her desk.

“You’ve got something on your teeth.” She spoke, watching her nails momentarily after inspecting my dishevelled figure. “Blood, to be precise.” With a manicured hand, she pushed a crystal vase that held mountains of hard candies towards me.

"I'm hoping you're here to tell me how..." The woman's lips faltered into a smirk as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "successful you're assignment went."

“How successful my assignment went...” Exasperation was clear in my voice.

"Yes, I suspect that everything went according to plan."

My teeth clenched as I seethed, "So being on the receiving end of an assassination order from one of your henchmen was part of my fucking mission?"

“Whatever do you mean? I helped you. Put one of the Commissions best assassins by your side.” The Handler leaned back, brushing invisible lint off of her 80’s styles dress. Her electric blue eyes narrowed as an annoyed smile pulled slightly at the tips of her mouth. She watched as I menacingly leaned in and planted my hands firmly onto her desk.

I dragged my tongue along the red staining the white of my teeth. “Now tell me,” A mocking smile adorned my lips. “why the fuck did you send one of your puppets to kill me?”

— ONE HOUR AGO - Date: 2nd of April, 2002 Location: Unknown Location, England Time: 23:55

I tied the cord around his plump neck, watching him squirm and gasp to get as much air as he could into his lungs, his blue veins bulging against the papery white of his skin. The moment the newly lifeless body dropped onto the filthy carpeted floor joining the 5 others, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and sighed.

Here they were. The main members of the Lionheart Mob.

Dead.

I looked around the damp living room, signs of break in and fighting evident in the knocked over and broken furniture, and blood splattered along the walls and already dirty carpet. My nose scrunched automatically at the stench.

I picked up my weapons and slid them back into my pockets, letting my eyes wonder around the crime scene once more after wiping down and ridding any evidence for the police to use from the house, except from one particular strand of hair.

I had instructions to leave the bodies as they are to let the police find them. Two of them had died from strangulation, three from blood loss from stab wounds to the kidney, and the other dying from blunt force trauma to the back of the head.

Just as I was ordered.

I, on the other hand, suffered no injury of any sorts. Some may say silently bragging to the dead would bring one horrible misfortune and fate. Not that it would stop me.

With light movements, I exited the house and closed the door gently behind me, finally being able to breathe in the fresh country air.

The sky had darkened from a soft navy blue to near black, the only source of light being the distant gleams of stars and the half crescent moon hanging idly in the sky. I covered my head with the hood of my jacket and proceeded to walk down the street that dipped downhill, stuffing my hands into my pockets to hide the blood splattered over my palm and under my nails.

For a while, my near silent footsteps were all that could be heard in the midst of the abandoned countryside of England, apart from the occasional drunken screams and wails. But no matter how peaceful the country posed itself to be, the eerie feeling that someone or something was watching me never faltered once.

The blade of my dagger was placed strategically under my jacket, and my gun strapped against my side. Funny how even my most useful and deadliest asset came nowhere close to the sturdiness and swiftness of my weapons.

‘So you think a few rusty pieces of metal compares to the abilities of a God?’

My body jumped at the sudden deep vibrations rattling at the back of my skull.

“Then you shouldn't be surprised that a human like me can't control a God like yourself.” I retorted, my words dripping in sarcasm. "At least I have control over those 'rusty pieces of metal'."

No matter how satisfying it felt to snap back, I immediately regretted my decision as millions of laughs, each barely above a whisper, echoed off of the walls of my skull.

It felt like millions of needles being stabbed into my brain repeatedly.

‘What makes you think you don't have control?’

I kissed my teeth and tried to distract that little part of me that wanted to reply and engage with its forbidden words. I could hear the amusement in its question. "Everything", Was what I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut and looked ahead.

They laughed once again.

I didn’t reply but pondered quietly. I had never been religious. My mother had always believed in a higher power. Whether it was the all-powerful being we call God, or many more of His names, or something different all together. Nevertheless, she believed. Something I just couldn’t find myself doing.

The only person I could have faith in was myself. A proportionate fate for someone like me.

It could tell I was deep in thought, my mind wavering from one conclusion to another, oblivious to the threat mere metres away from me. Usually, the voices would warn me when something strange was afoot or of any potential dangers. But it wanted to wait. To see how long I could go without the assistance I had gotten used to having my whole life.

An experiment.

Just like my thoughts, I couldn’t keep my eyes fixed on one place for too long. Every moment my gaze was fixed on something new as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows and swallow me whole.

Finally my suspicions were confirmed once my gaze ended its useless wavering and locked onto another a pair of eyes. My mind immediately flashed back to my case file of known associates of the Lionheart Mob.

The man I was ordered to frame.

The man and I kept eye-contact longer than intended, thoughts of fight or flight running through each of our minds.

There was nothing I could do or say to prevent this from becoming a tiring chase through the isolated region of the country, so I decided on the next best option.

Before the target could give into his flight response, I removed my gun from its once strapped position and began to shoot, a bullet just grazing his cheek before he could make a run for it.

My legs had a mind of their own, sprinting towards the target the moment he ran with my arm stretched in front of me, gun in hand. I took a shot, then another, then another, each missing as the man swerved with the endless streets branching off of the main road.

I was quickly out of bullets.

For every step I took forcing me further into the chase, the feeling of danger deep in the pit of my stomach only grew. My breathing began to deepen as drops of sweat slowly pooled down the side of my head, only to be dried by the ruthless wind whipping against my face.

I watched as he jumped over a fence, and I quickly followed, a grin curving on my lips once a large gate came into view. The man was rather short, so it should take him a few seconds extra than normal to cross the barrier. More than enough time for me close the gap between us.

I grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him harshly towards the ground, smirking as his sliced cheek broke his fall. I threw my foot back and slammed it against his ribs. He released a pained groan and I kicked him again, and again, and again.

“A well deserved punishment for someone making me run for so long, don’t you think?”

The man began to cough violently after another strike to his ribs, blood splattering onto the ground with every cough.

“Seems like I’ve broken several ribs.” I kneeled beside him. “They’ve punctured your lungs. Soon you'll start to drown in your own blood, and well... die.”

“I can help you. Relieve you from your pain if you tell me how you knew I’d be here.” The man watched me cautiously, flinching as I held the back of his head, gripping his hair tightly. “All I need is a name.”

The man swallowed thickly and averted his eyes from one side and back. “It…” He opened his mouth, hesitation clear. I dug my nails into the flesh of his skull, breaking through the layers of skin.

He winced as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“It was...”

His eyes shifted to the side.

“…him."

BOOM

I spun my head around the direction the bullet was shot, only to be blinded by a flash of blue and a foot being swung at my face. I barely had any time to react, but was able to evade just in time.

I fell on my back and quickly leapt onto my feet waiting to be greeted by another attack which never came. I furrowed my brows and my forehead creased, letting my eyes scour the area only to come up empty handed with a mutilated corpse right beside me.

The common feeling of blood had drenched my palms in an instant once the bullet was shot through the side of his skull. My brain hadn't fully registered the moments part of his ear were blown off, making way for the bullet to exit his body. I peered down at his mutilated head, the only emotion consuming my body being annoyance and hatred for the man.

This situation, right now, right here, was supposed to be impossible. This mission was crucial to the deal. It was the only chance I had left. Without it, I was back to being The Handlers little bloodhound on a leash, ready to execute all orders with no hesitation. Back to being a creature of sin that couldn't possibly stray any further from God.

In the midst of my endless train of thought was when I saw it. The dim light from a lamppost hit against a small piece of metal a few metres away from me. I approached the bullet, taking it into my hands and held the bloodied object towards the light.

My lips parted as my gaze met a familiar imprint. "You've got to be kidding me..."

The words left my lips in a hurried whisper while I inspected the awfully familiar crest imprinted on the reddened copper. There it was, clear as day like the thousands of alter-egos that bitch of a Handler was housing.

The Commissions crest.

My lips pressed into a sneer. I dug my canines into my tongue to stop myself from saying three specific words that would end this fucked-up situation I've been living my whole life. Three simple commands and the beasts I've been housing for a lifetime would shred The Handler into pieces.

'What are you waiting for, bloodhound? Her permission? Just end it all.'

No matter how much my mind craves to see The Handler kneeled before me and begging for her life, I couldn't do that to him. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for him. Not for my own selfish gain.

It was for Jasper.

I took a deep breath in attempt to reel in my thoughts.

My fingers travelled through the knotted mess of my hair. I couldn't help but scoff. "Of course it was a fucking set up."

"So then you know what happens next." A voice spoke behind me, followed by a cock of a gun.

I didn't bother turning back to meet the hard stare of my attacker, but proceeded to watch the crest deeply, as if trying to fool myself into thinking I was dreaming. But the stench of the corpse, and the rush of the wind yanking me back to reality said otherwise.

I threw the bullet to the side and wiped the blood on my hands against my sides.

"No, I don't know actually." I slowly turned around on my heels to face the man, confronting his hard glare with my own uncaring one. I cocked my head to the side, challengingly. "Why don't you remind me?"

I felt a rush of adrenaline sore through my veins as the whispers began to get louder..

The click of his tongue rang through the alleyway. The man scoffed in agitation.

"Gladly," He began, slimming his deep green eyes, and watched my reaction once the distance between his finger and the trigger narrowed.

A familiar source of power devoured my body. The shadows that stretched against the concrete and towering brick walls shifted manically, dancing in celebration to be alive once more.

My hazed stare flickered from one thing to another as I relished in the tingling sensation burning through me.

'Kill him.'

My pupils dilated.

'Kill them all.'

My heart was racing.

'We know you want to.'

"Any last words?" He called, as if taunting me.

I snapped my head up and focussed my eyes on the target, then at the collection of abandoned buildings a good distance away.

"I think I should be asking you the same thing." My body moved on autopilot, my mind too preoccupied on the sensation burning through my veins. I was now a few measured steps closer to the assassin. "So tell me, then,"

The hardened gaze that I kept sternly focussed on the male hadn't faltered once, opposing the restlessness and unease of the shadows "any last words?"

My wrist snapped upwards before I could properly register what I was about to do. The shadows beneath the mans feet rose around him and the world seemed to stop spinning.

My eyes were pulled wide while I watched in anticipation. The shadows merged into hands as they rose from the depths of the darkness and latched themselves onto the agent, covering his body faster than I could blink. I stepped forwards, pulling my arms back before pushing them in-front of me. The shadows followed suit, launching the man they held captive into the buildings nearby.

Dust and rubble exploded from the collision, along with splatters of blood on the loose debris.

I licked my lips and sighed glad to have squished another pest crawling around in my way.

Next was The Handler.

I picked up the gun he had dropped and walked towards the collapsed building, releasing the bullets on top of the bloody debris while strolling to the agents 'burial site' as I doubted he would be anywhere but smashed under the concrete.

"Rest in pieces, asshole."

I took in several deep breaths to level the adrenaline I felt myself drown in. I couldn’t lose control. No matter how much I itched to dive deeper into the ins and outs of my abilities like I did years ago, it was too risky.

It was too soon. But it wasn’t too soon to kill The Handler as I did to her puppet. I turned around, the taste of freedom fresh of my tongue and my guard lowered.

A fatal mistake.

A hand slammed into my shoulder blade from behind to stop me from moving any further.

"Now, where do you think you're going..." A raspy voice spat behind me. "...bloodhound?"

I twisted my neck to the side just enough for my peripheral vision to catch the large pair of green eyes bearing into mine. Blood dripped from a large gash on his forehead, painting his whole face a deep crimson. His laboured breaths hit the back of my nape making my hairs stand.

"What do you propose we do then," I licked my lips. "number five."

His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I could practically feel the rage radiating off of him through the wide smirk etched across his lips. My body began to respond to the adrenaline pulsing through my veins as the corners of my mouth and fingers twitched in anticipation for another fight. Another excuse to use my powers. The only thing I wanted to do right now, right this second, was-

A flash of blue light engulfed the area, blinding me for a moment before I was able to notice the large piece of concrete being launched towards me, held tightly in his cut hands.

I shifted out of the way, relishing in my increased reaction time, and span on my heel, sending a spinning hook kick to the back of his head. I made contact but it was short lived with his fist suddenly in front of my face and punched my jaw forcing my head to snap to the side, small pools of blood building up in my mouth.

Before his knuckles could leave my face, I latched my hands onto the assassins arm, spinning on my heels so my back faced him and threw his body over mine, slamming him onto the ground. I reached for my knife and towered over the boy, ready to plunge it into his heart, but in a blink he was gone and behind me, holding a long metal pipe and smashed my head in. I stumbled forwards but quickly regained balance before he could repeat his action.

The agent was now in front of me and aimed the pipe to strike the side of my head. But I was faster.

I blocked the pipe with my lower arm and palm-striked the assassin in the nose simultaneously, preparing an elbow to his face only for him to disappear into the air leaving me to bathe in frustration once more.

Blue then caught my eye in the distance. I rapidly slammed my palms onto the earth beneath me, raising an arsenal of shadows and launching them towards the light, smirking with the thoight I had dealt serious damage and possibly killed him.

But a hand latched onto the back of my collar and I knew I had fallen for a trap. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching feeling flooded my senses and my head was being smashed into something hard. Calloused palms were wrapped around my neck as Five prepared to jump again after slamming my head into a wall as many times as he could.

"You won't escape them." Was all I said before the mans grip was torn off of me from the missiles of shadows following his silhouette and launched him into the distance.

I got up, flexed my jaw and sneered at the sight of the man still standing, covered head to toe in blood, bruises and cuts. I could tell he was tired. His shoulders were slumped and head tilted downwards. His Adams apple bounced as he swallowed thickly and took in several deep breaths.

Number Five finally looked up, and I had never been more excited in killing someone than I had now.

FWOOSH

I raised my arm and slashed it through the air, sending a rapid wave of darkness slicing towards him, allowing myself to succumb deeper into the web of voices echoing off of my skull, each of my strikes increasing in power and precision for every time he'd teleport out of the way and into a wave of new danger.

Tired of the constant game of cat and mouse, Five blinked above me, carrying yet again another large piece of rubble and released it. I sent another cut through the air for the shadows to follow, shattering the rubble into pieces.

A gasp left my lips as another gut-wrenching sensation overtook me while a pair of hands grabbed my ankles tightly. My eyes widened and jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and confusion as I felt myself being dangled upside down and mid-air from the roof of a building that was over ten stories high. I tore my eyes away from the daunting scene several hundred metres below me and snapped my head up to see the man dangling me by my ankles.

The first thing I noticed was the slyness coating his eyes as he knew he had the upper hand- literally.

"I'll ask you one more time," Five spoke calmly, trying to contain the anger desperately trying to rip through his throat. The grip on my ankles faltered slightly but tightened just as fast. "Any last words?"

"Yeah," I breathed out in a ragged breath as a plan slowly began to form in my mind. I pulled myself up as much as I could towards the man and seethed between bloodied gritted teeth, "Suck my d--"

The man released his hold before I could finish with a disgusted expression as if he had just killed a bug, sending me plummeting towards the ground.

I raised my hands beside my body as I approached closer to my demise and quickly raised an army of shadows. I twisted to face the assassin, mid-air, throwing my arms towards him with the shadows following suit.

I looked back down and landed on a cushion of molten energy raised from the patches of shadows hovering just above the ground. The shadows had plunged into Five's stomach and forced him off the roof, his body being tackled towards the ground only for a blinding flash of blue to consume him.

My eyes slimmed in annoyance and brows furrowed to the sight of the assassin stood before me with a large knife pressed against my neck.

"You look tired." I eyed him up and down, very clearly mocking him, while I admired all the damage I had inflicted as if it were a piece of art.

Five's black suit was dirty and torn in several places, more prominently at the front, revealing the blood and bruises on his stomach and muscles. His red tie was barely hanging by a thread and the white blouse underneath was all torn up and practically non-existent.

His nose was purple and blue from the palm-strike, with smudges of red streaked across his forehead and upper lip.

Five stepped dangerously close towards me and pressed the knife deeper into my neck, almost drawing blood. He was less than a few small steps away from me and by the looks of it, he seemed eager to close the gap and assert the power he desperately yearned to hold over me.

I looked up at him with a devious grin, daring him to do it.

"How about I slice those lips off of your face. Will you be grinning then?" The man snarled and glared daggers.

I raised a brow. "How about I carve out your larynx so I won't have to listen to that aggravating voice of yours?

My neck began to sting from the knife cutting deep into my flesh, drops of crimson now gracing my collar bone.

The assassin forced out a low chuckle and shook his head slowly while his hold on the knife stiffened. His forest green eyes followed the blood pooling down my neck and raised them to meet my stare.

"Who are you."

"I thought you knew who I was, number five. I'm a bloodhound, remember? Or has all that damage affected your memory--?"

I was caught off guard. Five grabbed my collar and slammed me against a brick wall, pressing the knife deeper into my wound. My nose scrunched in disgust to the smell of blood radiating off of him and the sudden boldness washing over the man.

"Listen hear you piece of shit." Five seethed. His veins bulged against his neck and his teeth were clenched and bare. "As you see, you have no fucking where to go. So you better answer my questions if you want to live the rest of your vulgar, pathetic life in peace. Got it?"

A tense silence fell between us. I felt the mans warm breath fan over my lips and his knuckles press against the end of my neck as he held my collar tightly. The distance between us was almost non-existent, causing discomfort to stir in my stomach.

I wanted to vomit.

But I did the next best thing.

I held eye contact with the assassin before I descended into laughter right in his face. I took a deep breath in and titled my head up towards him, watching his expression slowly unravel through hooded eyes.

"Even after beating you relentlessly, you still don't have the slightest idea of how dangerous I actually am. I seem to have overestimated your intelligence, Hargreeves." I neared my face up towards his, smiling cruelly at the anger he poorly contained.

I spoke before he could cut in. "Yes, I do know who you are, and you don't know who I am."

"And we're going to keep it that way."

Date: REDACTED, 1955 Location: TEMPS COMMISSION HQ Time: REDACTED

"Did you kill him?" The concern was evident in The Handlers voice, making me raise a brow. Nevertheless, I knew her concerns were directed at her future plans, not the welfare of some field agent. But then again, Five Hargreeves wasn't just some field agent.

My lack of response seemed to fuel her agitation, my eyes noticing the quick clench of her jaw and flex of her fingers as she awaited my reply. In retaliation to the assassination attempt, I decided to not ease her fears.

Not one bit.

A deep sigh caught her attention, followed by an amused scoff.

"You're seriously asking me, the bloodhound, if she spared some second rate assassin?" A twisted smile pulled at my lips and I sighed again dramatically. "After years of working together and you still don't know me at all."

"Stop playing these games and answer my question." The Handler, who usually handled things with a certain measure of grace and passive aggression, snapped clearly annoyed at my antics. She quickly realised her mistake however. The woman cleared her throat and took a long drag of her cigar, blowing the toxic fumes right at my face.

With a few steps towards the display of weapons sitting behind The Handlers figure, I decided to test the already fragile boundaries of the situation.

I traced my finger along the surface of the weapons. "I've always been jealous of your collection." My voice held a certain playfulness. One I knew the woman behind me despised. "Especially ever since I saw this glorious artifact hanging on your wall and collecting dust, never to be used again."

The sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed through the room. "The very Turkic-Mongol sabre used by Genghis Khan in battle."

The Handler flinched ever so slightly at the press of the cold blade against her exposed neck. A significant movement that most would miss.

She proceeded to look ahead, not faltering once as she said, "You know very well that even if you kill me, I'd just be replaced by another desperate senior waiting to have their shot at such a powerful position in such a powerful organisation." The woman turned to face me and a shiver ran down my spine. Even when confronted with death, her expression was void of emotion. And for a moment I saw someone I wished to have long forgotten. And The Handler knew that. "Take this cog out of a machine and it will soon be replaced by another. But they won't give you the same leniencies as I have with your dear Jasper. So I recommend you consider your decision very closely, darling."

She took the weapon from my hands as I stood there, mimicking a child frozen in a trance, realising they were in no control of their fate.

A hand crept on my shoulder and a pair of lips whispered against my ear, "Because this is the best you'll get."

She took her seat and released a relaxed sigh. "Now then, you were about to tell me what you've done with little Number Five?"

“His heart is beating.”

“Good.” She purred, coating an extra layer of lipstick on her lips. “Did you use—”

“Yes.”

I felt her tense for a split second before her shoulders relaxed once more.

This time her voice is serious. “Does he remember your… abilities?”

“No.”

“So he remembers the fight but not the powers. Interesting.”

A loud alarm screeched from outside the commission, followed by a woman's scream and the slam of a car trunk. That's when an echo of a recently familiar FWOOSH rang in the room, revealing the asshole I longed to kill.

"You." His voice came in a growl. The mans eyes were wild, like those of a predator stalking their prey. His hair was a mess with random strands stuck onto his skin from the sweat and blood in his face.

"Five Hargreeves," The Handler's voice pulled the assassin back into reality. "Meet your new partner."

I could hear the smirk and utter joy in her voice as she spoke my name, forming the deadliest partnership the Commission had to offer.

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