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The fiend continued laughing, its decrepit tongue hanging out and licking the air. It was revolting and needed to be destroyed. Samantha's swings still weren’t connecting. It lashed out with a tentacle, aiming for her head. Samantha ducked quickly into a crouch, she felt a whoosh above her. Had she reacted a moment later, her head would have been crushed by the sheer force the A.I. put out. It was strong. If she could bring it down its power would be hers. The thought of subjugating an opponent that was clearly stronger than her made her heart race. It was strong but slow. Samantha knew that had the horror been as fast as her, she would be a stain on the ground. Yet despite her speed, she couldn't hit it either. She chalked that up to inexperience. She had never been in a life or death struggle before. In fact she never really struggled for anything in her life. She had no clue how long this creature had to survive out on its own before being captured by the facility. How many people had it killed? How long had it fought others better than her before it was brought down? If she could bring it down, she'd prove to be stronger than those people. She wanted to be strong. She didn't want to be coddled or protected. She wanted to be the protector, the victor, and in control. She didn't want to be weak anymore, she wanted power. The only way she could obtain that was right in front of her. Samantha sprang forward, using her momentum to put additional force behind her swing. The brutal thoughts continued as her hands clenched the bat tighter. She wanted to break its skull open, suddenly curious what was hidden inside. She had been afraid and frustrated this whole time but now all that was there was a desire for violence. The bat seemed to swing itself, going straight for the gaping hole from which that grotesque appendage was hanging. She would beat it into submission and prove her dominance. Nothing would be able to stop her. No matter how many times she missed, she swing again. No matter if she was knocked down, she'd get back up. The bat reached the end of its arc and she brought it back for another pass. She felt the strain on her muscles as they began to reach their limits. Samantha's hands were hurting and she could feel the bat grip tape wearing in her sweaty grasp. Ending this soon would be most beneficial to her and she knew that. She could keep swinging at full strength forever. She had to get the best of this thing quickly. She was unsure what her true potential was but knew had yet to reach it. This fight was only the first of many and it couldn't be a loss.






Line Count: 451

“You are thinking brutally.” Samantha's jaw dropped. It could talk? How did it know what she was thinking? It started to circle her. She followed it with her eyes. Its voice sent a shiver up her spine. She couldn't decide whether she disliked its voice worse or its laugh or its overall appearance. She figured it was just guessing what was in her mind by the way she was attacking it. The creature continued to speak as it walked around her. “A perfect trait to use for destruction. To bring chaos to the world.” She wasn't shocked that it wanted to cause chaos and destruction. It was an alien being used by an unknown race. She understood its desire to bring down the people that tried to enslave it. The part that surprised her was that it seem to think it could use her to do it. Did it not know what the facility, where it was being held captive, was used for? She couldn't let it overpower her. It may get free if it defeated her. Even if there were people stronger than her in the facility, how many innocents would die before it was brought down? Its laugh snapped her out of her thoughts. An attack came almost unexpectedly, catching her off guard. The tentacle barely missed her as she stumbled back as it hit the ground, scattering dirt in the air. Despite her fatigue and the soreness in her legs, she managed not to fall over. Even after it talked about using her, it didn't seem to want to let up. “You're wrong.” Her voice came out ragged. Her throat was dry and her shirt was soaked, sticking to her with cooling sweat. She swallowed a bit before speaking again, her weapon still at the ready. “I won't bring chaos to the world. The only things I will destroy are monsters like you. I will protect this planet and the people I love. I will defeat you and your power will be mine to do with as I please.” Even with that said, her thoughts hadn't change. She would utterly destroy the horror and all of its kind. She would show them the tenacity of humans and how much they were underestimating her race. She would not be used by some alien A.I. that assumed it was stronger than her. It was in for a very unpleasant and very rude awakening. She willed her aching legs forward, charging the skeletal figure. In her tired state, Samantha wasn't certain she could put any power behind her strike. Her arms swung nonetheless, again aiming for the pervasively evil face in front of her. Using the momentum of the first swing to spin around, she brought the bat down for another hit. If it wanted brutality, she would give it all the brutality it could handle and more.







Line Count:

The girl on the table in the circular room suddenly shot bolt upright as Dr let out a scream "Sophia!!" Rachel's breathing was near hyperventilating as she suddenly forgot where she was and what was going on. As she sat there with the breathing mask still strapped to her face she whipped her head from side to side and brought her hands up to defend herself in case there were anymore A.I. present to attack her and her sister. However as reality slowly began to sink in Rachel remembered. Sophia wasn't with her. Her little sister was... dead.

The raven haired girl tore the mask off her face and flung it to the ground as her expression sank from panicked to grief stricken. What she had just experienced had all been a dream. She hadn't defended her sister, she hadn't saved her. She had been killed by one of those monstrous A.I. and she had been powerless to stop it. Her face sank into her hands as she began to sob anew. By now the shocked technicians in the room finally kicked into action after her sudden awakening and rushed up to check on her. The girl was almost as inconsolable as she had been when she first came in. The only difference was she was sobbing instead of numb. After taking a few vitals and noting down the changes to her A.I. core they then tried to help calm the girl. Their voices hardly registered in her ears. The people around her managed to get her off the table and standing as they tried to lead her towards the door. The technicians managed to get Rachel out of the room as they tried to explain what had just happened to her and what she would need to do next but all the while Rachel was not listening. She was still coming to terms with the loss of her sister when suddenly another though struck her as they finally got her out the door and into the hallway.

"W-wait! My brother!" she cried out. "His name is Matthew Caldwell! H-he came in with me! He has blonde hair and is about this tall. He said he was doing... whatever I just did too. Please, tell me where he is I need to see him!" the girl pleaded with the techs. The two men have each other's uneasy looks before one spoke up in a calming tone to try and cushion the blow. "Well, you see... the H.A.L.F. procedure the both of you undertook is an incredibly dangerous one Asmara you just experienced. It can be too much for some people and well..." as the man paused and looked uneasy Rachel's heart already began to drop. "Your brother, he... he didn't make it."

Any condolences the two tried to give Rachel were drowned out by the heart wrenching scream she emitted. The poor girl collapsed to the floor in a sobbing mess. Her face was buried in her hands as she wailed uncontrollably. Nothing the men tried comforted her, they could not even get her to move from the spot she had collapsed on. The fragile thing had just lost the last two family members she had in the world. Her entire family had been claimed by those horrible A.I.s. As her grief consumed her there was also a small fire that began to burn deep within Rachel's very being. A need to stop them. A burning desire to destroy those horrid creatures so that no one else would have to suffer the pain and loss she had been put through. This however was buried deep and covered by her current grief. All Rachel could do at the moment was sob uncontrollably on the floor.

Xander stared out of the window of the train as it shot through the city at blistering speeds, but he did not really see any of the scenery passing him by. He stared out of the window more to avoid meeting anyone else’s eyes than for any other purpose. What was there for him to see that he had not already seen before? He had lived in Toronto for all of his life; his father had wanted the security of knowing that his family was safe while he was off fighting for what was left of humanity. Safety was a funny concept; it was a mass delusion that allowed people to function without losing their minds, but that was all that it was. Toronto was completely safe from intrusion from A.I. Cores, but it could never be safe from itself. When people had no other enemies, they were quick to turn in on themselves with teeth bared. There was so much crime in Toronto that it almost felt as though the crime bosses were the legitimate government; they set the rules that everyone followed for fear of severe punishment. It was better to get on the bad side of the cops than it was to piss off a crime boss. Xander knew that much from experience, though he was at least fortunate enough to never personally earn the dangerous attention of one of these mysterious leaders. He’d tousled with his fair share of goons; there were always low level thugs causing trouble for anyone stupid enough to be out on the streets for long. And he had his run ins with the police; they had actually more or less ignored him for a while. The boy is just acting out, they would say. Someone would lower their voice and whisper; you know about his father, right? Then everyone would look at him with their eyes full of unwanted and pointless sympathy. Damn them all; their sympathy wasn’t feeding his mother or his sister and it wasn’t bringing his father back. To hell with them and their sympathy. He didn’t need it and that was for the best as it had eventually run out. Five years had passed since then; Xander was older and maybe even a little wiser. At least, he was just wise enough now to look back on the past and realize that he could not have kept up that life forever, no matter how hard he was trying to. He had been so angry and ashamed to have his life and his family exposed to scrutiny, but it had been for the best. The last time he had seen his mother, she was finally gaining a healthy amount of weight and looked at peace, sitting by a window. Julia was getting so big now. She was so happy; she never seemed to cry anymore. All was well that ended well; peace had finally returned to his family, for the most part. But peace wasn’t for Xander. He couldn’t stand it; he still couldn’t cope with the feeling of loss and frustration. He couldn’t just accept what was stolen from them all. And if there was one thing that he had determined for himself, ever since the first time he punched some thug in the face when he and his two pals decided to shake down the younger boy for money, it was that he wouldn’t let anyone steal a damned thing from him without a fight.

It was a quiet an uneventful ride, or at least it was for Xander. No one tried to speak to him and he definitely did not welcome it with his appearance. His clothing was dark and the hood of his jacket was up, casting shadow over his face. Anyone who bothered to look beyond noticing that would see that his face and knuckles were still bruised from the last fight he had been in and a lead pipe rested across his knees as if he expected to get into another on the train. That was not far from the truth; Xander always expected to get in another fight. His heavy boots were steel toed and significantly scuffed; that detail alone could have just meant he did heavy work, but combined with the rest of the young man’s look and the way he carried himself, that reason seemed much less likely. Between his feet was a beat up old army duffel that was something of an antique, rescued from his foster parents’ attic when the day had finally come for him to make this trip. There wasn’t much in it; Xander had brought only a few changes of clothing, some toiletries, his father’s hunting knife and brass knuckles, and a snack that his foster mother had insisted on despite his protests. Xander couldn’t eat if he wanted to; his stomach muscles were tight with anticipation and impatience. His mind was focused only on his destination and his reason for going. He even shoved to the back of his mind the faces of those he had said goodbye to; he couldn’t let that effect him right now. His foster parents tried to be supportive, but they were afraid. His foster mother had cried when she hugged him and wouldn’t let him go until her husband had gently pulled her away. Even Julia was upset that he was leaving and that everyone else was upset, but she was brave and smiled for him anyway. She told him to come back soon and play with her; that was the face Xander tried the hardest not to think about. Julia was just a kid; he hadn’t told her and he wouldn’t let anyone else tell her, either. Xander knew that the odds were not in his favor; it was likely that his little sister would never see him again. He didn’t like to think about how that conversation would go. Julia was only three when they lost their father; she didn’t even remember him and she was better for it. She barely remembered their mother. But now she was ten, only two years younger than Xander had been then. If she lost him now, she would remember it. She might even hate him for going. And Xander was just selfish enough that he didn’t want to deal with that today; by the time Julia knew anything, he would already be dead. He had to go, because he might survive. And if he did, he would to take out his grief and anger on the coded hides of the enemy instead of other humans who pissed him off in one way or another. This was the right thing to do. This was what his father would have demanded; Xander was sure of that.

The train slowed as it pulled into the station and Xander was on his feet before it even came to a full stop, the lead pipe hanging from one hand and the duffel slung over one shoulder with ease. The pipe was not exactly the most refined of weapons, and maybe it would have been smarter to bring more of his father’s old weapons, but most had been confiscated years ago. Xander didn’t know if he could have gotten them back, under the circumstances, but he didn’t even try. Screw dealing with the cops; he had survived this long with whatever was close to hand and the two, small weapons he had been able to hide before the pigs got to them. And maybe if that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t deserve to follow in his father’s footsteps after all. Xander stepped from the train into a bustling crowd of people. His impatience spiked and he pushed through the crowd with a bit more force than was really necessary, earning a few dirty looks. But Xander had places to go; he didn’t stop moving and those he pushed through weren’t exactly willing to be pushy themselves just to pick a fight with him. Finally he reached the entrance and paused to look for the taxi he was told would be waiting for him. Seeing a sign with his name, Xander was immediately in motion once more. “Xander James?” the man asked when Xander approached. ”Yeah.” The driver looked him over, lifting a brow at the pipe, which only brought a scowl to Xander’s face. ”Let’s go already.” If the driver was phased by the annoyance in his passenger’s voice, it didn’t show as he nonchalantly instructed Xander to put his things in the trunk. Finally. Xander dropped bag and pipe in the trunk and slammed it shut before climbing into the backseat.

Xander slouched in the backseat, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze once more fixed to the window. The driver made an attempt at small talk, but let it drop when Xander gave no response. He just wasn’t interested in talking to anyone. What was there to say? Hey, nice to meet you; I’m probably about to get myself killed because my dad died. Long story; don’t really want to tell it. Yeah, it was better to just keep his thoughts to himself until they finally reached the B.A.I.T.R. base. This was one place in Toronto that Xander actually had not been; out of respect for his mother, his father had kept his family as far from the base as he could without actually leaving Toronto. When he finally saw the building on their approach, Xander started to feel nervous for the first time. There really was no turning back; he was going to do this. Succeed or fail, live or die, he had really decided and he was going to do this. Xander steeled his resolve, his jaw clenching as he stared at the building as if to challenge it. He had decided and he didn’t want to turn back; he was doing this. There was a surprising calm in certainty that washed away the brief bout of nerves. The taxi stopped and Xander stepped out, pausing only to stretch his limbs while the driver popped the trunk. Xander wordlessly retrieved his belongings, only giving the driver a nod when the man wished him luck in passing. The young man strode into the building with all of the confidence that he could muster, and that was plenty.

The lobby was so clean and quiet that it actually gave Xander pause and slowed his steps. It definitely did not feel like a place where he belonged. Fortunately, a woman called out, asking what she could do for him. Judging by the placid and professional expression on the woman’s face, she had seen rougher people than him walk through the front doors into this pristine lobby. Xander walked up to the woman as he replied. ”Yeah, I’m Xander James. I’m here to take the H.A.L.F.” The woman turned to her computer and punched in a few things before speaking to him once more. “Xander James, please take the elevator up to the twelfth floor. They will be waiting for you.” The woman instructed with a smile. It was… strange to have someone smile at him for no good reason, but Xander only nodded before heading for the elevator. He rode up to the twelfth floor and stepped out into yet another unfamiliar place. Fortunately there was a man in a labcoat who gestured for him to follow. “Let’s have you put your bags right over there and then we can begin. We will be giving you a code core; it will need to be programmed onto a personal item. Have you decided on such an item?” Xander held out his left arm, gesturing to show off the wide, black rubber band that hung on his wrist. It was a worthless scrap, something that was meant to be thrown away ages ago. But it had once been a part of some piece of his father’s equipment. He had not let the man throw it away; Xander had hidden the band instead and he used to wear it under his clothing, on his bicep, whenever his father was away on missions. Maybe he even thought of it as a good luck charm, back then. That was stupid and he wasn’t a kid anymore, but he still couldn’t bring himself to throw the item away. It was always with him. ”Yeah. This.”

The man pulled the band from Xander’s wrist and let him set aside his things before leading him into an operating room and instructing Xander to lie on the table. The teen complied, watching the man in the labcoat warily as though what he held in his hand was precious. And it was, if only to Xander. Of course he knew better than to think anything terrible was going to happen to the band, but he still stared as it was attached to a computer. It seemed to take twice as long as it actually had before the item was returned to him. The older man was speaking to him, telling him to make sure he was prepared or something, but Xander wasn’t listening. The band was back on his wrist before the man had even finished speaking. ”I’m ready.” Xander insisted, to which the man nodded before pulling a gas mask over his head. And then, within seconds, the world faded away and there was nothing.



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Turn 1

Xander’s Skill= 15
Pit Viper’s Skill= 16
15/8= 1.875


Xander remembered his father’s stories about binding an A.I. Core, but there came a time when stories could no longer do the reality justice. The testing room and the people working around him had disappeared. The teen was taken aback as he found himself in new surroundings, standing in a place he had not seen in years. It was more years still since he had seen the place like this; it was so clean and organized. This was his childhood home, just as he remembered it. When he thought of this place, there wasn’t the smell of garbage or stains on the wall or any of the other flaws the place had suffered under the care of a child. It was pristine as though his mother had never disappeared into herself. It was as though his father had never died. Xander took a few steps forward to gaze numbly down at a small pile of his childhood toys, left as though he had just been playing with them a moment ago. He even thought he heard a peal of infant laughter and it was an effort not to run to the door as though he might see his father walking up the path to the house. He couldn’t get distracted; he was here for a reason, and it wasn’t to get lost in a fantasy created by his own mind and the lingering longing of a child. Xander clenched his fists, the right closing around something solid, cold, and hard. There was no need to look; he knew that it was the lead pipe he had carried with him, or rather the representation of it in his mind. There was an intruder here and it didn’t belong. He was here to eradicate it. Anger began to creep into his mind once more and he whirled to face the source of an unfamiliar voice.

And before him, once he had turned, was a large snake that was undoubtedly his opponent. Great… he was not exactly a big fan of snakes and it took an effort to stand his ground. The teen just needed to remind himself that it didn’t matter what the enemy looked like; it was all just code and any one of them would happily kill him, no matter what they looked like. He couldn’t puss out; he had to take her on. Xander breathed in through his nose and grinned at the snake’s assessment of him, though it was more a baring of his teeth. ”Yeah? Gonna make it pretty embarrassing when I kick your head in, won’t it? Are you going to get the hell out of my house or do I have to come over there and throw you out?” Xander may not have felt very confident, but he damned well sounded it. He stalked closer to the snake, moving carefully and with his pipe at the ready. There was no point to rushing in; he couldn’t use speed over a distance against a creature like this. The snake was going to be faster, that much he knew, and charging in recklessly just meant opening himself up for attack. So he waited until he was close before he finally lunged forward, taking a swing at the creature’s head and mentally praying that he didn’t swing wide and miss.

Turn 2

100 – (7-10= -3) 1= 99%

Xander was afraid; it was not something that he would ever admit to anyone, but he was far from immune to it. It wasn’t the first time that he had felt fear. More than once he had faced down someone much larger than himself or more than one at a time, but backing down wasn’t an option. And backing down was not an option this time, either. This was in his mind; if he tried to run, then he was already dead. Being afraid he couldn’t really help, but he wouldn’t cut and run. He especially wouldn’t run from this thing; his father hadn’t run from the A.I. Cores and neither would he. So the teen had to muster up what bravado he could, even if it didn’t seem to have much effect on the monster in front of him. Damned snake; she probably thought he was bluffing. Couldn’t they smell fear, or something? Whatever. Scared or not, he still planned to kick her out of his damned house. Even if it was just a dream.

Even as Xander went in for the attack, the damned snake was taunting him. So what if he was doing this for his family? What was pathetic about that? She dodged his attack easily and he grit his teeth as the whoosh of his pipe cutting air hit his ears. He was wide open! Xander stumbled to the side, momentum and luck saving him more than any grace or skill. It was a narrow miss and the enemy was still on the move, slithering between his legs to attack from behind. She was fast; he knew the snake would be faster than he was. It was all Xander could do to drop and tumble, rolling away just as the serpent’s jaws snapped, her head pulling back from where he was standing moments before.

Xander popped quickly to his feet, turning on his heel to snarl at the snake. ”What the hell do you know about anything? A dead man ain’t ashamed of nothing! He ain’t proud of nothing, either.” Goddamnit, he was yelling at some code in his head! He needed to shake it off. But that was easier said than done when the snake made a point of digging in at his weak spots. ”If I’m so damned weak, why aren’t I dead yet, huh? Are you lazy or just stupid? Come on! I’m going to die of old age, at this rate.” He was more careless this time and he knew it. Xander charged in toward the snake, only feinting to the side at the last moment, taking another swing at the scaly thing’s head. The entire time, the teen was wracking his brain for a way to gain an advantage. The snake was faster than him and he doubted she was weak. He had a little strength, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere if he couldn’t land a hit. He had to wear this thing down or maybe try to trap her somewhere… but he didn’t think the snake was stupid, either. It was starting to feel like he didn’t have a lot of options.


Attacking Pit Viper x 1

Turn 3

100 – (7-10= -3) 1= 99%

Xander was almost as surprised as the viper was; she was fast and he had been caught unaware by just how fast she really was. If he had stumbled away just a little more slowly, then those jaws would have clamped down on him without a doubt. He had lucked out, especially with the first attack. The second had been more deliberate, but if he kept using up that much energy to slip away from these rapid fire attacks, his stamina wouldn’t hold out much longer. And if the snake held out for longer than he did, then he was dead meat. The worst part of it all was that he really didn’t have time to worry about any of this; he was already in the thick of it and he only had instinct to rely on now.

It was too bad that instinct really did him very little good against the snake’s taunting. Yeah, she had definitely hit a nerve. And not only had he let her get away with it, he had let her words drive him into acting recklessly. He had charged in only to have his pipe slapped from his hand by a swift moment of the snake’s tail. Damnit… now he was disarmed. Now what? He was right in front of the creature and he only had his bare hands. Having only those, Xander balled them into fists and lifted his arms defensively.

It didn’t take long for the head of the snake to dart out at his side. This time he was expecting it and was able to move only minimally, turning his body just enough to protect it from wicked looking fangs. The snake was coming in for another strike, but Xander was able to shuffle back a few, quick steps. He focused his eyes on the snake’s head, concentrating on every movement with a grim determination. He wanted to ignore the words of the viper, but they sank in despite his best efforts. Xander snarled at the snake, but he didn’t let his concentration drop. ”You kill all your targets with boredom, or am I just special?” How the hell did someone attack a snake, anyway? He had to keep that head still, somehow. But making a grab for it could well end with her fangs in his arm instead. Still, he had to try something and Xander darted forward to make a grab for the head before he could talk himself out of it.

Attacking Pit Viper x 1

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OOC: Xander is less than pleased or impressed. XD