Harlow turned on her heel to look back at him, still smiling. "No, Alex, you know I can't go against mission orders. It's not that important anyway." She shrugged, turning around to keep walking. Alex yanked out a gun, his hands shaking slightly. A "No, not for you or the company. So just give me the fucking flash drive, Har." He asked, sounding distressed. Harlow turned and looked utterly confused. "Alex, I can't give it to you unless you tell me what's going on- I could die if I disobey an order like this. You could too. And don't point your fucking gu-" She was cut off by a sharp round being dispatched from the chamber. It hit her in the side before she could comprehend that he shot. He looked just as surprised, but he pressed anyway while Harlow pressed a hand to her new wound, lifting it to see thick red liquid on her fingers.

A shudder ran through Harlow on the table.

A "I'm sorry, Harlow, but please, please just give me the drive." He pleaded, panic setting in. Harlow blinked at him, tears in her eyes. "...you shot me." She said quietly, looking from him to the bullet wound. Alex was paler than white. "Alex, I'm not giving you this drive. I don't know what's going on, but-" Alex took a step forward and Harlow lifted her gun quickly. Her hand, unlike his, wasn't shaking when she did. If she shot, her bullet would go right between the eyes. Even she seemed surprised with the action. A "Harlow, please, I didn't- I never meant to- I'm sorry, but I need the flash drive." He said, his gun held limply out from his body. "You're not getting it." Harlow said coldly, watching as Alex went to speak again. She shifted her aim lower, the chest. Less damage. As he opened his mouth he also tried to take quick steps forward, and the movement made her pull the trigger. Twice.

-INHALE-

D A R K ))

Mark was really a bit terrified, trying not to show it in his face. He clenched his jaw, turning away and shutting his eyes as the gun fired, flinching the second time. He felt a pit in his stomach. He never realized he was holding his breath til he gasped quietly, sitting back in the chair. He felt like he was invading her privacy, even though it made a whole lot of sense, why she had mens pants and a bullet hole in her side. He swallowed hard, wishing it be over.

You're talking to someone who reads

SOLELY DYSTOPIAN BOOK SERIES

Oh and it's not over yet

This is the best part - evil cackle -))

Alex collapsed, a slight gasp and a few shivers as he hit the ground, on his back. Harlow blinked a few times, shaking her head and shuddering at the consequences of her own actions. "Alex?" She asked quietly, dropping her gun and the flash drive, crawling to his side and blinking rapidly as she started to cry. She sat on her knees, Alex's head in her hands and his shoulder across her knees. She was cradling him, slightly, rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean..." She blinked at him, gently tapping his cheek. Nothing. No response. She was more accurate than she meant to be. After a small big longer of cooking and pleading for him to wave up, she seemed to accept that there was nothing to do. So she sat sobbing, quietly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet with her head pressed against his.

Meanwhile her real body was shuddering violently as the other screens faded to black and the serum wore off. When she woke up, her eyes were wild, and tears were streaming down her face as she yanked at the ties holding her against the table. "Let me GO!" It was the first thing She said, shrieking at the woman by her side, bitter, acid filled words.

Mark was most certainly traumatized by the whole ordeal. He nearly didn't open his eyes, all he could do was listen. He was extremely uncomfortable now. He watched her through the one of her real and present self, he understood things a little better now. The sound of her shrieking seemed to be a cue, a man walked in, under 6', white apron. Round and small glasses. Mark stared, so much was going on theough his head as he watched the man admire and arrange one of the tables of tools.

mmmmhmmm))

Eventually, she got her bonds off and the woman left, so she was allowed to rock back and forth a bit to calm herself down before she turned to watch him through the glass. As soon as she did, an alarmed look crossed her face and she walked to the window in a panic. She didn't have wots for it. She forced her still recovering brain into making a plan, but it was working, and it made her anxiously run her fingers through her hair and tug at it as she paced along the window.

unwanted gills muahaha))
Mark laid his head back, shutting his eyes for a moment. His chest rising and falling quickly. He glanced up at the screen thst was still on. He could see Harlow. He looked into the mirror. He felt like he was gonna pass out but he knew they'd just wake him up and continue most likely. He looked back to the man, who grabbed himself a scalpel. He walked around to Mark's left side. T(torturer) "You know we want to know where your father is, right?" Without hesitation, he flipped over Mark's hand and sliced a line across his hand. He winced and shut his hand, which started bleeding immediately. He wiggled hard in the chair. "OW! First of all. And second, I don't know, I haven't seen him in two weeks." He said sharply. Against his wishes, the man found a couple more spots. Slowly draging the blade along the bone of several ribs, leaving two lines in the left side of his abdomen to drool blood out of. Mark kicked lightly, coughing. He put his head back on the chair, squeezing his eyes shut with a wince, holding his breath again.

*still maping out torture*))

Harlow was leaning against the double-sided window, her head pressed against it and her palm pressed against it anxiously. She was shifting nervously as she watched the man move around beside Mark, trying to force her brain to make a plan after a traumatizing vision and while watching Mark prepare to be tortured. Whatever she did, it had to be fast, because if the cameras saw her doing something it surely wouldn't be just Mark who could see it. Then, Mark got his hand sliced open, and Harlow flinched, swallowing and forcing her eyes closed as he continued to get cut up. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She muttered breathlessly, looking up at the nearest camera.

Time seemed like it was passing so slowly when everything hurt. He glared at the man who was walking around him, pacing, circling. He looked up at the screen for a moment, she was watching. He sighed quietly, she would save him. He knew she would. The man zeroed in on Mark's face, lifting his chin, but letting the scalpel touch with jaw. T "I don't like liars. You know you can tell me anything." He was edging on the creepy side, Mark stared, breathing hard. The blade moved along the right side of his jaw, leaving it's trace with the drips of blood off his chin. "I don't think I will." The man turned to him, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, he cut a line beneath Mark's left eyebrow. He dropped Mark's head and ruffled his hair. Mark let his head hang for a moment. He mouthed a few curses, he was doing his best not to lose hope.

Harlow opened her eyes and simply watched for a moment before she stood, pacing beside the glass and staring at her hands. It was hard, not to look at him while she thought. Eventually, she put together some sort of plan- she hadn't worked out... all the details just yet. She looked up and held in a sob at the sight. It made her wanted to curl up and rock back and forth, a familiar feeling.

((Eee she rescue now or he gets cut up for a little longer?))

She can save him at anytime))

He brought his head up slowly, blinking rapidly, his whole eye was red from the blood dripping down. It looked vaguely gruesome. He panted slightly, getting more and more exhausted. They may have been flesh wounds but it was like pulling an all-nighter. The man came back. T "Would you like to continue lying?" He pressed the blade on the right side of Mark's chest. Mark stared up at the screen for a moment, and then turned to glare at the man. Deadpan. His neck twitched, he turned his head slowly down as the scalpel ran over his skin, trailing blood. He looked down, grimacing. He clenched his jaw, his eyes getting heavy.