eleven. menopause

41.4K 1.5K 1.6K
                                    

EDITED MAY 21, 2021

The pair was unstoppable.

Unstoppable. Abso-fucking-loutley unstoppable.

With Eight's ability to move things with her mind, killing was much much easier. They mostly did kills without worrying with fingerprints or anything. Five's power had also helped them through certain circumstances, like one of those times when they get caught, then both of them will disappear in the blink of an eye.

They had 19 successful missions in a month, and this caused them to be feared throughout The Commission. They were the best assassin team, and also the handler's favorite.

But, no matter how successful they were, both of them were still miserable. Sure, they were glad that their breakfast that consisted of burnt food turned into eggs and toast, and that every single day they were replenished with water unlike their state back in the Apocalypse, but somehow, that still felt better.

For a weird reason, the Apocalypse felt more like home.

After Eight's first mission with Five, her first kill couldn't leave her mind. The agonizing scream of the target begging for mercy was still on repeat on her mind like a broken record. But, as long as that what is needed to take to go back home to save the world, she would still do it. Eventually, the killing became easier for her. A part of her daily routine - and nothing was stopping her from doing her job; because she knew that one day, she'd return to the people she cared about the most and save them from eternal doom.

"Five, Eight. My best team." The Handler smiled as the pair went inside her office. "So, how has life been?"

Eight gave her a deadpanned look while she adjusted the gun that was on her suit. The handler had gave her a suit that was made out of a special fabric that protects her from extreme temperatures and small-arms fire. There are also suction cups to help her climb smooth surfaces. She had a belt like thing that she often used to hoard her weapons, incase she needed them.

"Just give us the mission, please." Eight stated, looking at the gun that she had. When she was at the Academy, she was trained with a gun since Reginald thought that she had no powers at first.

"You will be doing this mission the day after you arrive at the place and timeline." The Handler gave them a giant smile and handed them an envelope. Five looked at the envelope, then at her, before opening up the envelope.

November 22, 1963
Dallas, Texas
John Fitzgerald Kennedy

"It's going to be a pretty hard task," The Handler teased. "Perhaps you'll need some backup?"

"We can kill John on our own, thank you." Eight gave the woman a tight smile before leading Five away to go get their briefcases.

Five chuckled a bit as he noticed how tense Eight always was when she was around The Handler. It was no surprise that Eight hated her.

"Why do you hate her so much?" Five asked, stopping before they had entered the briefcase room.

Eight gave him an expiated sigh, leaning unto the window. "Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"She's clearly flirting with you!"

Five couldn't help but smile at how adorable his wife was being. He patted her on the head and started making his way towards the briefcase that they needed.

"Are you ready?" he asked, holding Eight's slender hands. "As ready as I'll ever be," the woman muttered, before opening the case, leaving them both into a giant blue hue and magically appearing in November 21. 1963.

WITCH. five hargreeves [1]Where stories live. Discover now