"Banshee... Mom's dead."
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Seven children share one combined and twisted past. When they aged, they all separated and grew into their jobs, trying to ignore the past. They rarely connected with one another throughout the years. But, what hap...
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SHE was chasing someone.
Technically, this woman was a part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation - otherwise known as the FBI, children.
She was chasing someone.
Because she was part of the FBI, she technically had a right to chase this someone. After all, that someone was a threat and she was attempting to eliminate that threat.
She was chasing someone. She also happened to have the higher ground.
"Red, I think you can run faster," spoke a person in her ear. She knew for a fact that the voice in her earpiece was lounging in the car eating chips.
"Want to run instead of me, Davis?" the redhead grunted as she continued to chase the bad guy of this situation.
"Quite comfortable where I am, thank you very much," she heard him chew in her ear.
"Close your fucking mouth!" she ordered as she finally got closer to the bad guy.
She caught him and handcuffed his hands behind his back.
"Your welcome," the guy with the surname Davis spoke into her ear again.
She rolled her eyes, knowing that it would be no use to fight Davis talking her ears off.
She cursed her luck, and her boyfriend, for ending up stuck with Mitchell Davis for this mission. He was - with no exaggeration - probably the worst in their field with all of his slopiness that was there since day one.
But, it was the price to make life seem fair to the people who think life is fair. In reality, life is not fair in the slightest, children. I think, in conclusion, that is what makes it life.
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I have previously stated that I could just suddenly, out-of-the-blue, in the story give you a time where I tell you a memory. Trust me, right here and right now, it will happen many many times throughout our time with this entire story.
After all, memories seem to be our past life moments bottled up in our brain to remember suddenly from time to time.
How about we pluck one memory of many from the redhead's brain and test our luck, children?
This memory might not be nostalgic as the previous ones.
This memory might neither be bittersweet like one of the precious, aforementioned memories.
This memory might probably win a title in the sadness category.
This memory might not be nostalgic as the previous ones.
