Unfinished Project

*Prologue*

They'd arrived.

The building didn't look unlike one she had used before when she was escaping from that prison in... it was the same place. What else had life decided to throw at her this time? They escorted her in via the front door, Cynthia didn't mind, it made a change from her usual 'yank the window open' routine. The pervert and brainless one were replace with two burly, heavy-set guardswith close set eyes, big noses, and squashed faces. They reminded her of the pig-like guards from Star Wars VI.

However she opted against pointing that out as they did have weapons and she didn't.

She recognised the guard from the hotel. He was sitting on an office chair in the middle of the room. The guards pushed her towards him.

Apprehensively she sized him up and cursively glanced around. Shit. There was no way out.

Without warning the guard swung his fist and caught her lower jaw with a crack. Cynthia fell to the marbled, dusty floor with a crash. Her eyesight going blurry and starry; her face felt as if it was on fire; blood poured out of her mouth forming a perfect puddle encroaching on her right hand; a chipped tooth dropped with a splas into the scarlet. Cynthia didn't know how long she'd stayed like that until she finally got up. Her foot fell into the muck that was now slowly curling in on itself and turning brown and she nearly slipped.

Regaining her balance she turned to look at her attacker. His face was impassive. Half of the guards had been replaced by the technicians.

One of them was Marc.

He felt awful. He was crying as he watched the conversation between her and sir.

He was crying as they encroached and turned on the lights.

He was crying as he was given the signal to press the button. He hesitated and that gave her time to run - but not far enough.

The button was pressed.

And Cynthia Sparrowhawk ceased to exist.