Blood Line - Part 3

Kaider tossed the cadaver to one side. It thumped against the wall with an audible crunch. It seeped to the floor; coating the surfaces with all the life giving fluid that Kaider had not ingested. Kaider observed the situation. ISAD would sort this out. Just a drugs and gang related accident gone wrong. No intentional murder, just broke in, wanted to steal some drugs, got involved in a fight, leaving Arthur dead. Just an open/close case. Kaider smirked. Open/close case. If he was simply a simple case, then his life could have gone down a much different route.

He leapt through the window, without as much as a graze from the shattered remains of the glass window pane. He sailed through the air, dropping alarmingly quickly. He extended his fee, braced for impact, and then closed his eyes. The rush of air hurried up further, until the sound transformed itself into an almighty CRACK. This was also followed by immense pain. He opened his eyes. He was standing in a small crater that his falling body had created. His legs had broken, his spine was fractured, but even now as he looked down he could see his limbs coming back to where they should be, his left knee cap reverting back the correct way, his spinal column twisting into its original shape.

Pain subsides. No longer feeling the agonies of life. This scum hole of a city. I long to get out, but ISAD will never let me leave. My life will be simply terminated. No questions, I was simply the man that didn’t exist.

I load up the needle gun with a second hypodermic. This is filled with orange liquid. Antidote. Into the tube, through the flesh, under the bone. Press, pull trigger. SHUMT. Stab. Pain. Inject. No more orange. Convulse. Drop gun, writhe in agony. Cells changing, muscle reducing, body shrinking. Fall to ground convulse. The comedown is always worse than the pick up. Hate. This. So. Much. GRAAAAAAHHHH!!!

Back home. Kaider should have a nice penthouse, but he doesn’t. Grotty, pokey, small flat in the outer suburbs. The worst place to be in the world. The streets swim with savagery, are drowned in scum and are drenched in the watery filth of this entire ‘civilised’ world. We are the lowest of the low, but we don’t care. One day, we will take it upon ourselves to topple the fascists and the communists, to get the power we deserve. This is what Kaider wanted, and what all here wanted, but everyone knew that it would never happen. The amorality of the outer city was so great that a man would gamble his only chance of happiness on a single game, would trade his dream for a cheap whore, and would give his own mother for a goddamn drink.

Go home. Telegram on his floor. From ISAD. He picks it up. New target. Adrian Darget. Charlatan. False claims. Medium, fortune teller, telekinetic. Among other things. Suspected of human trafficking without license to do so. See picture. Seems familiar. Can’t remember where from. Open the file. Information. Will read tomorrow. It’s late. Want to sleep. Must kill by next Thursday. Must not forget. Jump into bed. Alone, no company. Sleep comes easily to one who has been fed well recently. Lights, out. Snore.