Phantom Assassin (2015 version)

Chapter 09

Trace thought about the possibility and then thought it preposterous. A fiery personality? A hot personality? It almost made him laugh.

"Trace, we don't have a mission today, so you can experiment with your Tool and figure out what special properties it possesses," Hailey suggested, pulling her sleeve back down. The rest, like lemmings, pulled their sleeves down too.

"I can train with him," Shallomar volunteered, raising her hand childishly.

Hailey smiled at her and nodded. "Sure, Shallomar. But first, we need to tell Trace about the eyesight." She turned to Trace. "Activate your scan feature, Trace. We can't see each other's faces unless we all activate them. You must've shut yours off when you teleported."

Trace lifted his hand behind his neck and touched the disc softly. The faces of his comrades came into focus, red-eyed and smiling.

"Whoa," Isaac backed up a few feet and excitement spread across his face. "Your eyes are really weird!"

"Weird?" Trace laughed. He glanced at Hailey and saw her mouth twitch nervously.

"Yeah, they're not red, like ours," Isaac said in awe, reaching out as if he was going to touch Trace's eyes. He reconsidering and coiled back to Shallomar, who steadied his shaking shoulders.

"It's okay, Isaac. He doesn't know about his predator partner yet," Hailey whispered reassuringly, smiling back at the scared boy.

"What?" Trace blinked, confused.

Hailey turned to him and offered a sympathetic smirk. "The guy that took both your hand, and your family from you."

Trace unconsciously reached down to his robotic hand and brushed his fingertips along the soft metal. He shivered slightly.

"So what does my 'predator partner' have to do with my eye color?" Trace asked, leaning on the bunk bed ladder.

Hailey hesitated, glancing at the members of the group, all of their eyes glowing red.

"Sit, Trace," Hailey ordered him, not looking directly at him.

He obeyed, slightly annoyed.

"There are fifteen squads in Phantom, each with their own Tools, insignias, and predator partners. In Wolf Pack Seven, our insignia is a sleeve-tattoo illusion. Our eyes are red for keen vision and so that we are distinguished as WP7," she explained, gesturing to her arm and eyes.

"So," she continued, sighing. "You don't have red eyes, like my Tool was supposed to deliver. Instead, they're..."

Trace blinked a few times and furrowed his brow. What exactly was she babbling about?

"Purple," Hailey sighed again. She lifted her gaze to Trace and stared him directly in the eye, smiling. "It's not a bad thing, but it means we can't help you with your predator partner. All of ours are ideally the same, and we don't have a clue what yours could end up doing."

"What's a 'predator partner' or whatever?" Trace asked, slightly aggravated.

Hailey laughed. Dereck rested a hand over her shoulder. "Trace, you seriously don't hear the killer intention trying to free itself from your soul?"

"Killer... intention?"

Suddenly, his heartbeat sped up rapidly. He definitely felt something clawing at his lungs.

"Finally. Took it long enough," Hailey rested her hand under her chin and pursed her lips.

Trace burst out in sudden laughter, and he wasn't Trace anymore. His hair switched from dark brown to bleach-white and the bright purple took over the whites of his eyes. His cloak switched from black to silver and red.

"Finally," the voice that wasn't his own crept out. It was hoarse, testing his vocal chords. "He couldn't hold me in forever."

Trace was trapped under his own skin, not in control of this strange being possessing him.

"What's your name?" Hailey asked casually, yawning.

"I'm Mylo, Trace's predatorial partner," the voice was more fluid now, but it was still rough and threatening.

"Ah, I see. Well we aren't on a mission at the moment, so we'll prune Trace for when he needs you for real combat," Hailey waved away. Her calm demeanor was polar opposite to her actual emotions. Somehow, Trace's old identity had found a way out... or a hybrid of his old self, at the very least.

Mylo popped his knuckles by simply squeezing his fist.

"Whatever. This lame host body wouldn't be able to control my spiritual power, anyway," Mylo rolled his eyes, now plain black irises, and sighed. Then, saluting, he retreated back into the depths of Trace's soul.

"Hm, it may be a bit difficult to tame a predatorial partner, but not impossible," Dereck acknowledged, pecking Hailey on the cheek. She smiled at him and then stared at Trace's immobile body.

"Snap out of it, Trace. You're back in your own body. No need to panic," Hailey laughed.

"No need to panic?! What garbage are you spouting?!" Trace spat, shooting up from the chair he was sitting in. "Who the heck was that? My so-called 'predator partner' trash?!"

Hailey smiled. "Yes. And I'm sure he would feel very violated if you said that to him."

"How could I communicate with him, anyway? What if next time he decides to take over my body entirely and never go back?" Trace rambled, scratching his head. His hair was back to its normal color.

"That won't happen if you're trained to control him properly," Isaac butted in. "And when you can assassinate victims quickly and expertly, you can have your predator partner take over your Modifier, where he will filter out orders from Phantom."

"That was what you meant by 'getting to know your Modifier' or whatever?" Trace mumbled. Hailey laughed at his stupidity and stood up.

"Exactly. But don't think too much about it. It'll fry your brain," she giggled, sticking her tongue out childishly. Then she sighed and stared at him. "It's only after lunch. Why don't you train with Shallomar? She's one of our junior members, so I'm sure she'll be an equal match."

"Can I eat anything first?" Trace asked, realizing the sudden burst of hunger attacking his stomach.

"No, Trace. Most of the time you won't be able to eat. On very few occasions, you will make it to breakfast," Dereck laughed, patting his flat stomach.

Trace gulped back a sigh.

"Hey," Shallomar appeared in front of him with a smile. "If we don't hurry, you won't have enough time to improve on anything."

Trace nodded hesitantly and then looked at the members, each smiling at him. Shallomar grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door.

"Why don't we just teleport to wherever you're going?" Trace asked, confused.

"Because you won't be able to get there unless you're going on foot the whole way through," Shallomar stated simply, dragging Trace across the empty hallway.

She opened a door near the end of the hallway and locked it once they were inside. It was pitch black, and she never flicked the light on. Trace's heart jumped to his throat.

The blade stopped when it pierced a millimeter into his neck.

"Aw, that's no fun," Shallomar pouted, retreating the knife.

Warm, slick blood trickled down Trace's neck, sending cold streaks through his veins.

"Well, no matter. Come at me with all you've got." Her voice seemed to come from everywhere.

Trace clumsily retrieved the only weapon in reach. His Tool.

If only he knew there was a way he could draw out the power it possessed...

His insignia lit his body up like a fire catching flame.

The sword sparkled purple.