I've lit hundreds of matches by now.
It instantly catches.
Dodging a thrust from the Griever's spikes, I push the match towards the alcohol dripping down its side, ignoring my hand's proximity to the instant blaze of fire. The Griever stops trying to kill me. The burst of flame immediately burns through the blubbery skin, reaching the internal workings. As its oil and fuel catch fire it thrashes and flails, metal flying everywhere as it short circuits.
To my utter joy, my plan works. One of the appendages crashes into the window, shattering it instantly.
The guards take a step backwards, but I dash past the flaming Griever through the remnants of glass. I'm coming, WICKED.
Best of all? The remaining Grievers follow me when their companion rolls to the side, still burning merrily.
The guards are staring at the Grievers in horrified awe.
In their indecision, I attack. I charge the scientist. I attempt to stab her before her gun is aimed at me. She uses her free hand to grab my fist and direct my knife away. Behind me I can hear the guards trying to fight the Grievers off. I punch her jaw, the blow far weaker than I would like since I'm scrambling to regain control.
Unfortunately, no one has ever taught me to fight. The barrel of the pistol finds the side of my head and she clicks the safety off. It doesn't need cocked. I know she won't hesitate to fire.
I don't see my life flash before my eyes. I have no life, and I have no time anyway. I'm already moving, pushing myself out of the way, shoving against her, trying to get clear of impending death.
She lets go of my fist, her attention caught by something behind me, and I fall backwards onto the ground. Above me, a Griever lashes out. The blow catches the scientist on her side, tearing an instantly-fatal gash in her. If I hadn't fallen...
The Griever powers down a second later. I don't take the time to see why. I'm already bolting for the gun that had clattered to the concrete. Something flies past me and crashes into a nearby table. It's a sort of sparking energy field, and I know I don't want to be hit with one.
When my fingers grasp the hilt I instantly turn. The Grievers have been shut down, but only one guard is still alive. He's cocking his Launcher, clearly preparing to fire again.
I don't give him time. I've never shot a pistol before, but it comes almost instinctively to me.
It's not until I'm sprinting down the hallways of WICKED that I realize I killed him.
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World Gone Mad (TMR fic 3)
FanfictionWiping Ash's memory was a mistake. As she slowly begins to piece together her old life, all her lost anger returns. If her life is falling apart, she'll make sure to set the world on fire with her. But will her focus on revenge destroy what good is...
