Villainess

3.1

This body was Lorraine Robinson, the third Robinson, and she is only 21 years old. 

She has an two older brothers, Luciano and Lorence, who are 5 and 3 years older than her respectively. Lorraine happens to have, rather, had a twin sister. A month ago, everyone had been called to a rented out bed-and-bath for a future heist-planning. However, someone wiretapped the telephones and found out the location of the meeting. 

The police fired off a round into Ruth and Harry while the house was set ablaze with the 4 children inside. 

After the fire, Lorence, Luciano, and Lorraine briefly saw each other in their separate escapes, but not Lucille. Wordlessly, the remaining Robinson heirs split, just hoping to survive.

And clearly, Lorraine wasn't too good at surviving on her own. 

Tracing the faded circular scars on her arms, the transmigrator realized how long Lorraine had been using drugs. How stressful being a Robinson was. If one wasn't perfect, then Mother Robinson would...

Lorraine shakes her head in disdain. None of that, now. 

Besides, I have more important matters to attend to than the past. Being an addict on a mission won't do. 

The rest of the memories showed how Lorraine became so addicted to heroin that she tried to con people again to get money. However, she was unable to do anything on her own and was thus imprisoned. After that, she died from a seizure.

At least she wasn't directly killed by someone else...

'What's the goal?' Lorraine asks, standing up from the bed as her joints crack wearily.

'To steal this country's most important treasure,' 008 answers. Lorraine's brows furrow.

'Isn't that a bit subjective? How do I know if it's the most important or whatever if you don't tell me what the object is?'

'Hmm...well, once you figure out what you want to do, I'll relay it back to Corporate. I can tell you if it'll be enough to get the points. Until then, you must survive.'

'Sounds like a deal,' Lorraine grunts out in acknowledgment, grabbing the faded gold doorknob. She swings open the dingy bathroom door and flicks on the lights.

Lorraine's eyes widened at her appearance, pausing completely. A slow hand moves to touch her gaunt cheekbones, and the person in the mirror mimicked the hauntingly slow action.

God, I look like a walking skeleton from a Tim Burton movie. 

Her clothes certainly didn't help. It looked as if the original Lorraine had stolen this red-and-black dress on the run, especially with how there's still the XL price tag on it. The skirt flared outwards like a bell, falling just at the knee of Lorraine's long legs.

Lorraine moved back, looking at her hair, damaged and frizzy from excess bleaching.

I can tell that my eyebrows aren't bleached, so why did the original even bother making her hair more blonde? Now my hair is as yellow as a highlighter...

Just then, Lorraine's stomach grumbled. Sighing, the girl went back into the motel room and grabbed the stupid scarf from the floor and tied it back from her face.

'008, is there a gas station nearby?' she asks, ransacking her own purse.

'Yes. You just have to walk across the street, it's open 24/7. If my memory serves me correctly, there is a twenty-dollar bill in your purse."

Lorraine's joints click as she squats down, rifling through her purse for any cash. Finally, she pulls out a crumpled bill. 

It was a light periwinkle, with a picture of a distinguished-looking old man on it, unrecognizable to Lorraine's eyes.