Codename: Supermassive

“Who are you?” the voice echoed through the dark room. Slowly a light illuminated a figure sitting in a chair. She looked defeated as she sat there, her head hung in front of her chest, the cut on her head was bleeding still, her hair soaked with sweat and blood, the curls hanging loosely from the weight.

The woman didn’t answer at first. She didn’t even move looking dead as she sat there.

The shift of the chain that held her in place startled the user in the simulation as she tugged the chain tight, a smiling snarl of rage on her face. “I’m your sister’s girlfriend. Don’t you remember?” she taunted. “I told you that last time you asked me who I was.” The attempt was feeble, her smile fading as quickly as it came. You could tell she didn’t have much fight left in her. She was broken.

After a moment a dark figure of a woman emerged from the shadows and straddled the woman, a knife held lazily in her left hand. The new woman was just as sweaty and just as covered in blood. She seemed content with the blonde woman’s answer as she set the blade on her own cheek thoughtfully, an alligator smile on her lips. “Well if I had a sister I’d believe you,” she frowned unconvincingly before tapping the blade on the blonde’s cheek. The brunette hummed thoughtfully tilting her head to the side curiously, “You know, for being dumped and turned over to the government by your boyfriend you are a rather stubborn bitch you know? If I were you I’d have started squaking hours ago. No point in protecting yourself when your boy toy doesn’t even care about you.”

“Kane?” the blonde breathed making the brunette on her lap smile more broadly.

“Yes, him,” the brunette said.

“I don’t believe you,” the blonde replied lashing out in the only manner she could, sinking her teeth into the fleshy jugular of the woman, the knife slipping up her cheek at the rash action and then right back down leaving a deep wound on her cheek and neck.

Both woman cried out in pain as the brunette pulled away and stood up. Immediately afterward the brunette’s hand crossed the blonde’s already bloodied cheek the loud slap from the backhand resounding through the room. The brunette then covered her wound with her hand placing enough pressure on it that her knuckles turned white.

The brunette scowled at the blonde woman, “Believe it princess. He came to me personally and told Nyle and I how to get you. So who are you?” she repeated letting her hand fall from her neck, the blood seeping from her wound and dripping from her fingertips, her knife tapping against her exposed thigh in a methodical rhythm.

The revelation seemed to cull in the woman’s fiery spirit, her bruised and battered body relaxing in defeat. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as my momma’s dead and my dadda too,” the brunette informed the woman. “I mean I love to play these games and all. Fuck you, fuck you yadda, yadda,” she waved her bloodied hand around and made it look like a moving mouth as she bobbed her head along, “but I always win,” she stopped her bobbing and looked straight at the blonde. “I mean if you want I’ll go get your boyfriend, fucker, lover man and get him to tell you but do you really want him to see you like this?” the brunette circled the blonde like a vulture, her bloodied hand dragging across the bare flesh of the blonde’s arm leaving a streak behind. “I can already see the look on his face,” she continued a tauntingly dreamy look in her face, “the look of disgust as you sat there begging for it not to be true and as he stood there glaring at how rotten you really are to him.”

The brunette’s head came swooping down to the side of the blonde’s face her voice dropping to a whisper, “How much he really loathes even meeting you.” The brunette pulled away taking the steps to come full circle and stand in front of the blonde again. “So tell me, who… are… you?”

The information seemed to be enough to throw the blonde over the edge of full defeat, the tears welling in her eyes as she tried to stay defiant straightening her shoulders slightly. The moment of defiance was gone now as she answered the brunette’s question, tears rolling down her face, “My name is Violet Simril,” she responded.

“Are you a knight?” the brunette spoke forcefully with amusement tinted in her voice.

“Yes,” the blonde responded with a bob of her head.

“What is your codename, Violet?”

The blonde sighed her frustration, more tears falling down her face. “I am codename Supermassive,” she said with a tinge of anger in her voice.

The brunette smiled broadly, her tattooed brow lifting at her victory, “Tell me everything Supermassive,” the brunette taunted with a cocky side step, her grin growing.

“First, tell me Smiles, why do you like working for Euphoria?” the blonde questioned, defiance lacing her voice.

“That’s easy,” the brunette responded with a roll of her eyes, “They let me hurt whoever I like, they pay me mass amounts of credits for it and I get to be myself,” the brunette lowered her voice conspiratorially, “no drugs attached,” She lifted her brow with a shrug knowingly, “More then I can say for the rest of the population.”

The blonde huffed in amusement, “If you say so.” The comment seemed to pique the brunette’s interest enough to raise an eyebrow for a second before letting the comment go.

The brunette grabbed a metal chair, the metal feet grinding against the floor. The blonde cringed only relaxing as the sound of metal grinding stopped. The back of the chair faced the blonde as the brunette stepped over it and sat down resting her arms atop the back followed by her head. “So tell me everything Supermassive,” the brunette reiterated.

“Well my favorite color is green. My favorite number is three. I prefer skirts over pants. I like long walks in the desert and tequila over rum. What else do you want to know?” the blonde replied bitterly.

The brunette rolled her eyes, tilting her head to the side, “How about your preference in underwear?” she queried cheerily.

“Red,” the blonde responded with venom in her voice.

“Hot,” the brunette leaned in slightly as if she didn’t want anyone to hear what she was about to say, “after this do you want to go get a drink? I think you might make a good fuck buddy if your boyfriend is any indication,” the brunette chuckled leaning her head back. The blonde’s face turned angry before the brunette continued on, “So little red, tell me about the knights,” the brunette said cheerily lifting her head off of her arms. “Security codes, locations, passwords, people. I need information and we’ll stay in here until I’m satisfied so I suggest you start at the beginning,” her voice quickly went bland as she settled her head back onto her arms.

“Well I was born 30 years ago in 3165, is that far enough back?” the blonde countered with amused annoyance.

The brunette woman shrugged uncaringly. “I get to eat whenever I want. You only get to eat when I’m satisfied,” she stated knowingly.

“Won’t I be dead before then? Or won’t you be?” the blonde offered jokingly.

“I have nanite syringes,” the brunette teased.

The blonde shifted uncomfortably, pulling at her chains. She grunted when she reached the end of her tether, still held in place. “Fine. I’ll start more recently,” the frustration apparent in her voice.

“Good girl,” the brunette woman taunted.

“I think I’ll start with Fillip,” Violet said after a moments contemplation, the difficulty of the decision apparent as she looked to the ground.

“Fillip huh? Was he everything you wanted?” she questioned with a suggestive lift of her brow as she licked her upper lip suggestively.

The blonde huffed. “You could say that.”

“Why start with Fillip?” the brunette asked curiously.

The blonde’s face contorted into something of pain, like her entire being hurt to even tell the woman the next thing, “I think the events that put me here all started with him.”

“Good reason,” the brunette said with her seemingly common expression of arrogance on her face.

The blonde, appeared to focus on her breathing for a moment, waiting for some signal to continue. The room seemed to throb with silence until the sound of the blonde’s chain shifted breaking the almost painful quiet. The woman exhaled in defeat, “It was a few months ago…. About a month before my birthday. I only remember because that time of year always makes me feel the same,” the blonde finished bitterly.

“Old and ugly?” the brunette queried.

“No…” the blonde sighed agitatedly. “Alone.”

“Typical,” the brunette said rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“At least I feel,” the blonde said sourly looking up from the floor to the brunette.

“I don’t envy you,” the brunette said rather cheerily. “I tried feeling once,” she shrugged. “It was exhausting,” she said with a bit of exasperation. “Pain is at least rewarding… for me”

“So you do feel,” the blonde said, a smile curling onto her lips.

“No. You do. Remember?” the brunette responded in amusement with a tilt of her head.

“Pain is a feeling too Smiles,” the blonde replied sternly.

“Physical pain can be healed with a nanite syringe and an hour,” the brunette rebutted as the blonde shifted uncomfortably at the mention of nanites again, “Emotional pain can last a lifetime. I don’t feel like you do Supermassive,” the brunette spoke darkly, “Now tell me about the beginning. What is the first thing you remember in this story about Fillip?” the brunette asked skeptically.

The blonde huffed before she shifted again, closing her eyes. “It started with,” she breathed. “The buzz.”

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