Tales_from_the_Hard_Side_ReLoaded / Episodes | TftHS-Ep10.5_Cold_Angel_Part_I

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Trying to survive she discovers her worst enemy is hunger. As stealing not always an option doing some jobs come in handy once or twice a week. Jobs came in on regular basis. First the Johnsons thought her some cheep to lay chunky. She came back at them mercilessly leaving another dead body in the bowels of concrete and steel. As time goes by she made her self a name within the Johnsons. She goes by the Name Cold Angel. But at this time she didn't even begin to understand her abilities inhabiting her body.

First time realization hit her as hard as an Ogrefist was on an rainy evening striding along one of the faceless city streets. It was near an subterranean coffee-shop were trids allowed wannabe hackers to enter the net without the benefit of hard wired brains. First she only felt a dizziness then the light came through. The street went a blending white, the voices around her were reduced to slow gulps of some unrecognizable language and her body moved like stuck in glue. Suddenly the white resided and her vision focused on some distant light under a night sky unknown to her. Memories of training routines of some distant time raced through enhanced parts of her brain. To short to remember she was kicked back into reality as her body went into combat mode. Adrenaline raced through her blood and made it a roaring stream of energy. Within six seconds three dead bodies littered the small alley. The scum bags must have brought her here while she was in that virtual reality.

Back in her paper shag under sum trees near Lake Michigan she puzzled about the memories. Trying to get back into that other reality - she remembered something called The Matrix - her fingertips began to glow and out of the air in front of her materialized a keyboard strangely familiar in layout and meaning. AS her hands began to dance over it in patterns she only recognized afterwards reality began to fade behind a curtain of living data. the dizziness came again, but this time she was prepared. Her brain fired up some genuine barriers and she stepped into The Matrix. As memories came back she knew how to navigate through the flood of data. She stood, no hovered over Lake Michigan and saw her image on the water. Tight black pants and shits, camovest and helmet. Two small objects circled around her head. Her two watcher programs ever vigilant. Speaking of which she thought to remember that one of those tightly coded masterpieces were destroyed some day earlier! In the right corner of her vision an icon began to blink feverishly. Back in real time her body recognized some movement in the security parameter. Like it was she did this since ever she touched it which her mind and opened a window that gave her a visual through her real eyes. slowly she willed to move her real head to look around. someone stood outside her paper-house. Her voice came from far away as she willed her mouth to speak: "Get lost". The figure outside was gone. To fast for one of the loosers that inhabited the shore near her.

She came back in time to see someone or something to move behind her. And the second time today the hot fire of alpha-adrenalin and something else made her moves a blur. But this time was different. Whoever was on her now was as fast as she was. The paper-hut exploded around them in tiny fragments. Lit by the camp fires around them the two figures stepped, punched and parried in inhuman speed. Her opponent was gruesome fast and vanished from time to time only to reappear beside her. Strangely he never hit her strong enough to tricker her biomonitor to bleep. The fight was over after ten seconds with her enemy vanished and dozens of fearful eyes locked on her. The ground near the shore was trampled like it was used for bullfighting. Alex breathed hard. Slowing her heart beating cautiously she growled at the gaping bystanders to get lost. Slowly the drunken figures vanished into the shadows around the fire. For one brief moment she could see a figure melting away like fluid darkness. It was gone the moment she tried to focus.

Next day Alex brawled the city limits next to Lake Michigan. Not knowing what to do about yesterdays events but unable to think about it she criss-crossed aimlessly through the suburban concrete-jungle. Weather was bad again. The Sky seemed to start on the 23rd level of the nearest skyscraper and rain was poured down since dawn.

Looking for some dry place and something to eat she suddenly felt eyes on her. Turning around ready for trouble she saw a dark figure vanishing only half a block away. Frustrated she glanced around and met eyes with a handsome guy sitting by a table eating. Through the window she could see some other guys but none was interested in her. The sign over the door reads "Mr Wang Fighting School". One last look over her shoulder she entered the room and went straight for the guy.

The guy she aimed at happened to be Drycon Gold. Private-eye-for-hire, private gun for the family he kept his privacy and his connections very tight. Not so with women it seems. Alex tried her best to convince him in buying her some meal by playing his lover. Wits against wits it turned out to be a draw. So they both decided to make the best out of it and went out for meal and something else.

Fate is a slick bustard and Drycon tried to stay upright in its wake. And tonight he thought he bested him by far. His mood was high and so was hers. The perspective of real food was worth a killing but tonight she tasted more than that. She felt like stepping out of some gruesome shadow into the bright light of sun. The italian sun in fact. Pasta was so delicious it took three plates to still her hunger. For Drycon it was not only astonishing but reminded him on someone else ...

Out on the streets again they strayed around seemingly aimless. Cautious Drycon directed them toward his home. They passed through shopping malls, watched gamblers on the side walk and vanished around some corners the time police enforcers showed up. And there he was again. Alex saw the image reflected in a shops window. The time he told Drycon about it, it has vanished again.

For both of them it was down to business again. He took her the next sideway into the shadows crisscrossed a few small streets opened doors and got out on the other side of the buildings. After five minutes of dodging the ghostly pursuer he decided it to be save to aim for home not so confident anymore about besting fate this evening.


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