Roguelike

That wrinkly prick was off her fucking rocker if she thinks she can "level up" like that scrawny twink. 

Anyways, yeah, Lola and I went to this place's designated training area. I didn't eat, but I'm usually not too hungry, so it's whatever. The interior is around the same as the rest of the Specialist facility, with dark, almost futuristic-looking walls lined with blue lights. The place is pretty similar to a gym with a bunch of other facilities like a boxing ring, an assortment of weapons(not including firearms since those are restricted to the shooting range), and a couple of sandbags and training dummies. There's also a bunch of stuff I can't even clearly tell what they are since I've never actually seen them in a normal gym or whatever. From what I can tell, there's simulation machines in a room off to the side. Y'know, away from all of the dangerous stuff. There's also another room with a weirdly large chair in the middle. Not sure what that could be, but it's probably cool.

While taking a look around, Lola already had her leg up and knee bent with the bottom of her foot tapping a sandbag. She leans back and snaps her foot forward in the blink of an eye, her leg already back in its original position before you could even see it move back. The sandbag swung backwards after she kicked it, swaying upwards and just barely hitting the ceiling. It's honestly baffling to me how much she's pushed past her limit. Like, yeah, I get that her whole mutation thing or whatever helped her a fuck ton, but there's still a good amount of perseverance and stuff behind it.

But seriously, as much as I stressed it the last time, her legs are hella fuckin' strong. Hella fuckin' fast too in terms of her kicks and running speed. Even while walking over here it looked like she was going out of her way to go slower. 

"You okay?" Lola pipes up, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You go from exploding to going silent a lot, you know that?" She hits the sandbag with a roundhouse kick, quickly tapping the opposite side of the bag to stop its momentum. 

"I dunno what you mean." Still eyeing the sandbag, I take a seat on a nearby bench against a wall. Coming back to my senses, because I now realize I haven't been too detailed in descriptions and stuff for a while, this whole place smells like a gym, and if your ass has never been to a gym(what the fuck are you doing with your life), it really just has that weird condensed scent of sweat. It's nothing stuffy or whatever since the air conditioning here is really really nice and pretty strong as well. Strong enough to make me feel cold with a whole hoodie on at least. Might just be because I'm wearing shorts instead of pants too, but that's not the point. 

"See, you're doing it again! I've been trying to get your attention for like 10 seconds!" Lola suddenly says again while pointing at me. "You're always staring off into space. Something on your mind?" 

"Ugh, like I said, I don't know what you mean." I scoff and readjust my eyes, noticing that Lola switched over to a standing sandbag. Weirdly enough this specific bag looked a bit less airy than the others and even had strips of duct tape placed in certain areas. 

Lola put her hands on her hips as she stared at me with a constant frown. She sighs. "Whatever you say, girlie." Turning her hips, she bent her leg to do a roundhouse kick but interrupts it by turning her body so her knee was pointed to the ground and kicking downwards. That's what I think I saw at least? It was all so fast. Instead of her foot making contact and stopping, it went through the bag, causing it to rip open and its insides to pour out. I can see why it's covered in tape now. 

"Oop-" Lola hops back slightly as she looks down at the sand exiting the punching bag. 

"Pfft. Dumbass." I snicker and quickly turn away as she glares at me. 

"Whatever! What kind of weirdo constantly spins a gun around like a toy anyway?"

"Hah?" I raise an eyebrow and glance over at my right hand which still had the pistol that woman had spinning around its pointer finger. How I didn't notice it is much as a mystery to me as to Lola. I stopped spinning the firearm around my finger as quickly as I found myself doing so, the gun basically sliding perfectly into place for use. Weirded out, and not even sure if I should have this thing with me even though it's out of bullets, I drop it on the floor. 

"That's... weirdly impressive actually. But enough of that! You need to get ready for your next mission in... when is it?" She pushes her hands into her pockets and taps her foot on the ground. 

"Tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow?!" She flinches as she instantly speaks up. "Well, what are you doing, sitting around?! You should get your head in the game!"

I give her half of the stare she was giving me. Inhale and exhale. "Lola, you're cool and all, but respectfully, I think I'd rather shoot my head off than get it in the game. In fact, getting it in the game is probably the last thing I want to do to my head. Honestly, shooting my head off is the number one thing I want to do, followed by cutting it off, followed by getting it ran over by a car, followed by getting it fuckin' shot again." 

Homegirl's shoulders droop as she dips her head. I dunno why but even after physically looking defeated, there was still a sense of determination to push me to actually prepare myself. Psh. Fuck that. 

"Listen." 

I roll my eyes. "Listening."

"I get that you want to relax, but the mission you're going on is really, really important. Not just for you to get it over with, but for the lives of everyone else that's in this mess." She steps closer and towers over me, blocking any vision of light as her shadow darkens my body. 

"But, it looks like Pavul was right when he said that you don't respond to words." 

I raise an eyebrow as I squint at her looking up and down. Did he talk shit about me?

"Which is why I'm going to hit you." I back up an inch. 

You know, there was a lesson that Pavul and Chrissy taught me when I first started out being a Specialist. It was different than just simple info of hand signs or secret codewords that Specialists use to communicate, or the different classifications of Specialists. What they talked to me about was bloodlust. 

I'm sure all of you know what bloodlust is, with it basically just being the internal feeling to hurt someone, but what if that feeling wasn't as internal as people might've thought? 

Bloodlust is a phenomenon that people can sense if they have enough experience with it, be it if they have been around others with bloodlust or if they have felt it themselves. This "brutality detection" as people have labeled it, is found in many different criminals, all who have a history of violence and murder. That said, some Specialists are also able to feel the bloodlust of others, especially those in Team 13 because, well... we tend to kill the most. 

That said, I never believed any of that bullshit. I mean, who ever heard of being able to feel what someone else was feeling, right? What a weird concept to have just suddenly been found out. There's no way something like that is real. 

That's what I thought until now at least. And it's a weird feeling. 

I thought it was pure luck that I was able to see that woman earlier about to shoot us, but I felt this then as well. 

It all felt like time slowed down. Every single one of my senses were dulled yet heightened at the same time. All I could see was Lola standing in front of me, the pink streaks on her hair almost blinding me as everything else was blurred and had the crimson tint of blood. I could feel the hairs on my body stand on end yet I can't even comprehend where my body is at the moment. The roof of my mouth tasted disgusting on my tongue, but there was also a sense of dryness, like all of my saliva had been drained out. The beating of my heart echoed throughout my head, each thump about to topple me over and onto the ground. And lastly, I wasn't sure what I was smelling at first, but it all came clear to me as I looked into Lola's dull eyes. I smelt it. Her desire to hurt me. A cloudy and dense scent of blood and fire.

She looked at me like I wasn't a person. No. Like I was... less than a person. Like nothing would change after I died. 

Every single fight or flight reaction in my body and subconsciousness shut down all at once. My body couldn't move, almost as if it accepted its fate. I'm going to die. 

It's weird. I thought I've gotten used to knowing my life was going to end after all those resets, but not this time. All those other times, I couldn't feel this sense of dread. I miss those times. Every single time I was killed by someone else, this was what they were pressuring onto me while they ended my life.

It's terrifying.

I'm terrified. 

Even though I know I'm going to come back to life, I felt like my spirit had died the moment she locked eyes with me. 

Lola lifted her leg slowly, but strangely enough, it didn't seem like she was doing it on purpose. I was watching every atom that made up her limb move upwards. It was like viewing my demise in 0.5x speed. Every slight adjustment of her flesh was made clear to me, especially when the top of her foot made contact with my face. She did the same kick that she did on that sandbag earlier, and like the sandbag, her leg tore right through me. 

I first felt her foot make contact with the side of my head, then felt my skull slowly break then shatter into pieces. The kick pushed the broken bones deeper into my head, stabbing into my brain before the foot followed along with it. Every single one of my cells felt the pain of the kick vibrate through my head as I feel my eye pop out of its socket and pieces of my brain splatter onto the floor beneath the bench I was sitting on. My whole body took on the momentum of Lola's leg as I was sent flying to the wall to my left, the impact thankfully putting me out of my misery. 

Death 16.

Just like how when I died, my eyes were locked with Lola's.

"Well, when's the mission?" She says with a curious tone in her voice, tilting her head and unaware she had just killed me in my previous life. 

Despite not having gone through feeling her bloodlust yet, my entire body was still dripping with sweat and my vision was still blurry, almost as if the density of the murderous intent was strong enough to prevail even after death. 

"Vivian?" I recoil at her words as I bring myself to my senses.

"Uh- Tomorrow! But I'll uh... get to preparing for it." I quickly avert my eyes as I clumsily push myself up from the bench and start speed-walking towards one of the untouched sandbags.

"Oh, that's good that you're getting your head in the game! I don't know what I would've done if you weren't training for something so important." She places her hand on her chest and smiles with a sigh of relief. 

"Yeah- yeah." My face tenses up as I stare at the sandbag Lola tore open, images of my previous death flickering and aligning with it. I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. 

"So, how'd you do that kick?"