Nami

I haven't forgotten the girl I was. I still remember the feel of my fingers on the piano, the face of my sister, and the first day I held a gun.
I just don't dream about them anymore, because his voice is all I hear. He whispers in soothing tones so loud that it drowns out my screaming.





BIO:
“You worry too much, you make yourself sad
You can't change fate, but don't feel so bad...
Enjoy it while you can, it's just like the weather!
Quit complaining brother, no one lives forever!” -Oingo Boingo



        Death came down the halls like a flash of lightning. The sterile white walls were liberally stained with dirty hand prints. They marked a clear trail towards her next set of victims, and she was pleased to see the state of panic. A mixture of blood and chemical cocktails littered the floor, no doubt the glass containers had become a problem when dropped or squeezed as the alarms sounded.
The rooms behind her were silent. Nami wasn't sure how well she would catch the sound of slippered feet.
It didn't matter. The way behind her was sealed. They weren't going far from here.
Instead of quieting herself she dug into her pocket and turned the volume up on her player, hooking the headphones into her ears.
She was glad she'd gotten the sports set. The silicone was nestled comfortably inside.
Next, she unclasped the twin blades at her side before continuing her path.
It was better that she didn't hear the screams.
Nami couldn't stop, not even if she wanted to.
   
        She'd caught the first man with ease. His lab coat became a death sentence once she had him by the sleeve. Nami had dropped the blades, instead pulling hard towards her as the young man tried to bolt. He momentarily came to a rest against her chest as he tumbled backwards.
His head cracked against the white tile, leaving the man winded. With only small gasps he met her eyes
with terror shaking his focus.
Not like this.
The part that was left of her, the one that could still protest was canceled out by pain.
Her fingers came down to his neck and she squeezed. The supple flesh popped easily and Nami was oddly detached at the sensation of warmth running down to her wrist.
Carefully, she plunged her fingers inside and felt thin muscle fall apart to her tearing.
His body seemed to vibrate on the inside, humming with life as precious fluid ran out of him.
She found the fragile bone and traced one hand over it. It didn't feel brittle here.
“This is the hyoid...When it snaps, your throat collapses. You can't breathe.”
His eyes were dull, he must not have heard her. He was still now, but she felt air bubble out towards her. One last gurgle.
In frustration, Nami lifted her Beretta to his partner in the corner. Withdrawing her hand, she shook the blood off onto the floor.
“I guess I'll continue this lesson with you. If you crush the bone, you asphyxiate. You know that word, right? If I sever the spinal column...” she trailed off, pulling the trigger suddenly.
Not this way. Let him die fast.
His skull seemed to crumple at the impact. She was already out the door. She dropped her favored gun to the floor as two men bolted from the bathrooms in front of her. It was time to end this, he wanted her back soon.
       
        It still hurt every time it happened. She would have given anything for him to take her humanity away, her ability to feel. Almost in cruel mockery, he had left her mostly intact. She could feel his additions sliding along her spine, sickly separating muscle. Even through the blaring music she heard the pop of her own flesh as it opened and the writhing masses extended from her. The pain of it blinded her reason, sending her stumbling. Maybe this was why her BOW brothers and sisters screamed and roared with such rage. It hurt, and she wanted to share that experience.
NO. NO I DON'T!
Her mind howled against the invasion but the extensions whipped forward forward.
One friendly doctor found himself skewered through the hip, the tentacle imbedding in the wall behind him. His howling pain reach her ears and shook her down to the bone, but she didn't stop. No matter how sickened she was, she couldn't stop. The second buried itself into free mans throat. He stopped his running, his throat bulging outward as she ruthlessly drilled. She could feel her tentacles pulsing, wondered briefly if that fluttering of his heart was him feeling it too.
Maybe he felt violated.
She even had a gift to leave him, in this way he could live forever. She could defy the good doctor.
She withdrew both tentacles as the first man stopped moving, falling to the floor like a ragdoll.
The second stood, pumped full of the virus. His eyes were wide, pupils constricted to tiny pinpricks in his shock. He fell to his knees and she saw his mouth opened wide, spilling blood and vomit onto the floor in front of her.
Nami wasn't supposed to do this. She was supposed to protect, but he'd ruined that too.
She turned, blinking back hot tears as her insides screamed for freedom.

“No one beats him at his game
For very long but just the same
Who cares, there's no place safe to hide
Nowhere to run--no time to cry
So celebrate while you still can
'Cause any second it may end.
And when it's all been said and done . . .
Better that you had some fun
Instead of hiding in a shell-Why make your life a living hell?
So have a toast, and down the cup
And drink to bones that turn to dust ('cause) . . .
No one, no one, no one, no one . . . . . . .
No one lives forever!!”-Oingo Boingo