ATLAS // Five Hargreeves

[#26] Va Te Faire Foutre

Atlas thought that stealing The Handler's sweets would make her irritated, a habit that the woman never appreciated, but then again, she had failed to notice that The Handler never left the bowl empty or hid them from her sight. After all, Atlas' sweet-tooth ensured that she was constantly under their control, disguised as something that stuck to her teeth and made her feel sick the more that she ate.

She frowned in annoyance, and slipped the tracker into her pocket.

Not a second later, the door swung open and was followed by a sigh that would have usually made Atlas grin, if she had not been so occupied with her latest discovery. Now, she could hear the fake sigh in The Handler's voice, her performance letting Atlas know that despite her reaction, The Handler already knew she would find Atlas not in her room, but instead sitting at her desk.

Because of course, she did. Atlas' stomach was filled with taffy trackers.

She hated being tracked. She hated not knowing things. She hated taffy trackers and why did she even take them in the first place? It was her fault anyways, always trying to irritate The Handler through simple acts and now she was being tracked. She was being tracked, and Five was being tracked, too.

Five was being tracked.

The Commission knew where he was.

If they knew where he was, why wasn't he dead yet? Why wasn't The Handler celebrating? Gloating in her face that there was no other option left for her, other than to come back to the Commission? Why hadn't the world below them been blown into pieces?

The Handler did what she did best. She was stalking, and then she would pounce. But at first, she would wait.

But what was she waiting for?

"Atlas," The Handler sang, crossing the room with a tutting sigh. "You can't keep escaping."

She turned and snapped her fingers, gesturing to two security guards that made their way towards the young girl. Atlas let them pick her up by her arms with ease and escort her towards the exit.

"It would be much harder for me to escape if you upgraded the security system." Atlas retorted. "I suggest you add a few more locks."

"You broke through forty-two of them in an hour."

"But it would have taken me longer if there were forty-six."

The Handler didn't reply, instead pinching her nose in defeat and waving a hand.

"Take her away. Please."

Atlas grinned at the reaction and shrugged off the man to her right. He winced slightly and she wriggled from her grasp, skipping down the hall to her new home; Secure Unit #4. Behind her, The Handler made sure that she closed the door and slid open the small slit resting at her eye-point.

"Anything you would like to add?"

Atlas' hand curled around the tracker in her pocket and the muscle in her jaw jumped and clicked. She forced herself to smile, a sardonic, sarcastic grin that beared her teeth. She could feel The Handler wince.

"Va te faire foutre."

The French could always make everything sound so much nicer.

...

LEONARD PEABODY LIVED at 31 Acer Drive with a small garden, pickett fence, and a porch that would have been perfect for a dog laying in the sun. Leonard, however, didn't have a dog. Psycopaths didn't do well with dogs.

"Be careful, okay?" Allison warned her brothers as they walked up the garden towards his house. The lights were off, allowing them to realize that he wasn't home. "We don't know what Peabody is capable of."