Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction ❯ Bullet in the Dark ❯ Dreaming... ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: If I owned Cyborg 009, do you think I would share it?

Bullet in the Dark

Chapter 3: Dreaming…

Author's Note:

Read this note! I hate doing this, really, I do. I hate explaining my work. I'm not crazy so I think people can understand me a bit. This story is (as you can tell) very dark. Lots of tears, angst, frustration… But to get to a good dramatic point, you have to go slow. Thus, this story is very slow paced. Deal with it. The real plot doesn't start until a bit later (two to three chapters). If you don't like it, too bad. I'm not usually this… ticked, but a reviewer told me that it was confusing and so on.

Okay. You can go on now. I'm done. Please leave a review. Criticism accepted (loved, in fact), while flames are not. Tell me what you think is bad so I can change it, people! I'm no psychic so I won't know.

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She woke with a headache.

She remembered dark eyes. Dark, dark eyes the color of the mysterious night. They were beautiful, yet so dangerous… Like the ocean, so inviting, yet so deadly in every way.

Moaning, she turned, trying to make the pain go away.

Who was he?

He was about to kill her. She remembered that at least.

But then again, she still felt alive… Her throbbing head told her that.

Why didn't he kill her?

She wanted him to, she couldn't live her life anymore, and still he didn't.

Where was she, anyway?

Slowly --oh-so-slowly--, she opened her eyes, surveying her surroundings.

It was still night, although the window on her right was beginning to turn light. She was lying on a silken bed with black sheets and coverlet. Dark objects were placed around the room, and she guessed them to be drawers and cabinets.

But the person she was truly looking for wasn't there. Where was the man?

She carefully rose from the bed, bare feet touching the carpeted ground. She saw a thin line of yellow light where the door was.

Holding her arms and hands in front of her, she walked towards it.

The cool metal of the knob almost startled her when she touched it, put her hand around it. Turned it, she opened the door.

A hallway leading to the light was what she beheld.

She followed it, wanting to shake with anticipation but not, still trying to be brave, to the living room.

The room was relatively nicely decorated, with matching furniture. No one was there, although the light was on.

A cool wind blew her way, and she followed it to a somewhat large balcony.

Someone was leaning again the rail. She caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke, slightly different from the cigars her father loved to smoke. His hair fluttered in the breeze.

She walked a bit closer; his aura was so entrancing, like flame to a month. Soon, she was right behind him.

"Why aren't you asleep?" she asked him.

He turned sharply, eyes flashing with the same fire she had thought about seconds earlier. "Why aren't you?" he retorted simply. His voice was smooth, honey coated, but still deep.

She backed away some, a bit afraid of him, which he noted with an inward smirk. "Who are you?"

"No one little girls like you should know," he answered without hesitating.

This hit a nerve. She leaned forward. "What do you mean, little girl? You don't look older than 20!"

"And you don't look older than 17. In that case, I'm older than you, and by every means can call you a little girl."

She wavered a bit; knowing that he, too, was cocky stunned her a bit. She had expected a dimwit who knew nothing except killing. "Why am I here?" she asked finally.

He shrugged, and looked back to the view, which she just now noticed.

They were high, high up, at least 9 to 10 floors up. She was never afraid of heights, thank god.

He took a long drag of the cigarette, and blew it out.

Finally, she asked the question she had been holding back for so long. "Why didn't you kill me?"

"Because you asked me to."

"What?" Françoise was very confused. Why was he…?

"What do you think I am?" he asked, meeting her gaze. Before she could answer, he did so himself. "I'm an assassin. I kill for pleasure. It's just my luck that they pay me for it. Do you think I aim to please?"

"So… You didn't kill me because I asked you to?" she was dizzy with a kind of rage she had never experienced before.

She was getting angry. He could tell. All his years of 'experience' told him that. It made him smirk, which infuriated her even more.

Françoise wanted to slap him, the maddening man in front of her. He took her life as a joke, maybe as a plaything. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, voice rising.

He was serious once more. "I don't know. Maybe it was because I saw my family get killed in front of me. Or maybe it was because I'm working for an organization that calls me by a number. It might be because you, the first one of the dozens I have killed before, asked me to kill you. I don't know. What do you think?"

She was taken aback, eyes wide. She had never thought about that. Never in the whole time she stood there. How could she have been so selfish?

He, in his mind, was also surprised. What had made him spill his guts like that? Even they didn't know about it. He considered that business his own, and no one else's.

"I'm so… sorry…" she whispered.

He glared at her. "I don't need your pity. I grew up this way."

"Why are you so…"

"Cold? Heartless? Unmerciful?"

She nodded slowly. "If you know, then why?"

"It's who I am." He glanced at her, shivering with either cold or fear, he didn't care, in her white, wispy nightgown. "Go back to bed."

"What about you?" It was true she craved the warmth of the bed.

"I'm a killer. I take care of myself." He looked back at the city view, his cigarette-flame extinguished from the ever blowing winds.

"Good night…" Françoise whispered.

He stood, still leaning, thinking about things far too transcendental to her. Unmoving, like a statue…

Françoise crawled back into bed, the coverlet still warm, massaging her cold flesh.

However, she no longer thought about the cold of her body, rather the cold of the assassin, her kidnapper, if you will.

Who was he? She hadn't even asked his name, although she was sure he knew hers. Why did he take the profession she thought was too quixotic to even dream about?

For all she knew, she was still dreaming. Dreaming about someone --something-- to take her away from her hated engagement.

But his eyes… his beautiful eyes… The things that drew her to him so much told her that it was real. It wasn't fake, a dream.

Strange… all too strange to her.

Was she still the 'little girl' he had called her? A fool to the world and herself?

It seemed so good… yet so, so wrong.

Why was life so harsh to her…?

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Finally a chapter with Joe/Françoise dialog! Still as dark as I can make it. I glad everyone likes it so much! I have another story now, called Oyabun. It's as dark as this, although the first chapter doesn't seem like it. It's rated R for language (I will not be holding back like I am in this story, written so my 10 year old cousin can read it), adult situations (a hint of lime, nothing serious), and violence. Go check it out!

Responses to Reviews:

InSaNe ReAdEr: As dark as dark can be! I'm trying my best so it makes you feel somewhat depressed.

Queen of Duels: I'm glad you like it so much! I feel so loved when I read your reviews!

KirbsterMK: Glad you liked it! I'm trying to make this a really good story!

Aria Zephyr: Actually… It's not as bad as you think! Sure, I'm making 009 and Françoise suffer, but that's okay! It's all for the good of their relationship (BWAHAHA)!

GoldenAngel2: Can it be? The author of the wonderful 009 story… r-reviewing --reading-- my story? I must be dreaming! Yes… I'm an evil kitty for making 009 suffer under my wraith! He is really think-y-like-y, isn't he? Anyway, thank you so much for reading and telling me what you think!

Kael: *hands you props* YAY! I'm happy you like this story! Thanks for reviewing!

Orphan: 009/003 FOREVER! You really like this story? Awwww! Thanks! *blushes* That makes me feel like… I'm special!

chuck: Well… What can I say…? I'm sorry it's confusing for you, along that it seems like there is no story line. I'm afraid to say that this is a slow-paced story, and that the real plot won't show up until like, the 5th chapter. Sorry.

Story Weaver1: Thank you for thinking so! I was trying to capture all the dark emotions I could, you know? Thanks for all the support you're giving me!

insanereader: Sorry the chapters are so short! I've tried loads of times, but I just can't seem to make chapters longer. It makes me feel rushed and really… crumpled. I'm so glad you think this story is good, with suspense and everything, instead of boring and with no plot line (as my flamer said). You're the best!

Venus of Love: OOO! A new reader! I'm glad you like this so far! I'll try to update faster!

CosmosAngel1: I rock at this material? Wow! You totally flatter me! Thanks so very much!

Serene Faerie: You think both my stories are good? *faints* I've gone to heaven!