Goonhub
12-26-2025, 03:05 PM
BEEP! BEEP! ACCESS: DENIED.
The maintenance door’s speaker blared into the hallway as the Syndicate Operative pressed his newly acquired Tourist ID against its scanner. Labelled with his given name “Silas”, and framed alongside a ‘portrait’ of a rather large DO NOT ENGAGE symbol, it was as low in approachability as it was in access. With a sigh of knowing despair, he turned around to his chaperone.
“Excuse me. Could you grab this door, too?” Within seconds, he received a tidy response.
“No.”
Giselle was hardly experienced, but it took a sizable amount of pure idiocy to let a criminal into the place where only nerds and criminals lived. Realistically, if she wasn’t to follow him in, the only people that would spot him were either nerds or other criminals; two sets of people that were frankly awful to talk to. Giselle leant to the side of the tunnel and continued her response, the red of her garb and hair serving to help her look at home within the outskirts of Security.
“The captain asked me to keep an eye on you at all times. I don’t particularly see a need for you to be here, let alone skulking about in the most dimly lit part of the station. We can go literally anywhere else- I’m sure there’ll be crowds of people ready to boo you there, which I can only imagine is the sole reason you showed up here so… conspicuously.” Syndicate spies were not so obvious about their appearances, and every time she remembered that fact, her eyes stared a little harder into his soul.
“Ah, but you see… I’m here on work. Technician work! I’m… a technician.”
“We have technicians.”
“Well, you have a new one?”
“Is that what they told you to say? We have a new one? That’s what your greatest minds in infiltration came up with?” She nearly scoffed, but the sincerity of his words was just too thick to doubt. There was something endearing about how expectant he looked, like his words alone were buttery enough to let him slide through the crack in the door. The sword on his hip kept her wits just as sharp as his blade, however.
A group of workers, scientists, walked by the pair. Their eyes burned into both of them, and just before Silas could reach an arm out to bother them with the same question, Giselle’s hand gripped his wrist and forced it back down to his side.
“No. Having to make me fucking follow you around is one thing. Bothering the workers is another.”
“You do not have to stay here, you know. I am trustworthy.” Silas smiled as he spoke, leaning back against the doorframe of Maintenance, eliciting another beep from its speaker. “You can leave me alone for a little. There’d be no problem.”
“I can’t think of a more forward criminal than you. You speak like you have some kind of… stake in this, you know? Like you have leverage. I choose whether or not you get in-”
“-ENOUGH!” The agent screamed. For a moment, the world stood still, as if the trigger of a gun against her neck had already been pulled. Silas continued within the silence.
“Make no mistake…” He glanced down to the card on her chest, squinting his eyes with anger, “...Giselle. My formal onboarding was not our best option. It was your best option. I would recommend following my orders, because you and I both know your pathetic little hunk of metal isn’t prepared for the kind of onslaught I can order.”
The silence perpetuated. Giselle stared at him, offended with the truth-laced sharpness of his words. Her fists clenched, and she leaned forwards. With a huff, she pushed Silas out of the way, muttering under her breath a single-
“Fuck you.” Giselle grasped her ID, cleaving it from her chest and slamming it against the maintenance door’s input. It chimed happily before opening wide.
The maintenance halls stunk of everything Giselle hated; crude oil, chemistry, and crime. The pair had just made it in before Silas began to walk with power, with purpose; she had no option aside from walking with him, staying behind to guarantee that he would be the victim of anybody jumping out to kill.
“So, dude, do you mind telling me what could possibly be in here that’s so pertinent to your mission?” She called out, idly gazing at the pipework around her. It was impressive, but downplayed by the fact that she had to keep throwing glances behind her. One, two, ten trips into this place and that feeling of eeriness never left its walls. Even the noise of her almost-certainly-evil compatriot starting to speak was warming… but the substance of the words was not.
“What I need?”
Silas stopped, and Giselle flicked her head back to keep both eyes on his form. There was no need to idly gaze behind her… danger radiated from him like heat from a fire. “What I need- or rather, what I needed,” he continued, “was a nice and quiet spot. Free from your coworkers, free from your little fucking cameras… perfect for finally getting you people off of my back.”
Giselle took a step back, reaching into her pouch with her left hand and producing her panic button.
“I have to be honest.” Silas turned around. A gas mask was firm on his face, shining red along its eyeholes. Giselle sucked in a breath, eyes quivering from inexperience. “Truth be told, this was our best option. You’ve all gotten in the way of our plans one too many times, and we’ve begun to lose hope. Your little fucking taser guns, cameras, radio systems, armed spacepods… they’ve a habit of cutting our antics short. No, what we really needed was innovation… and it’s that which I have provided to them.”
“Twelve…-” Giselle began-
“-Was us- well- Me’s the better word. It was me.” Even behind the mask, even behind the red, glee and sickening self-satisfaction secreted from his words, thick and slick against her throat. “Innovation was what they needed, and now, I’m a hero. Our next hit was always going to be Thirteen…”
Giselle’s finger gently began to push down on the panic button, her face trying its very best to be stoic against the aura of evil right in front of her-
SLASH!
Silas held the tip of his katana to Giselle’s neck. It was covered top-to-bottom in blood. Fresh, bright red blood.
“...And you were my entry point. New, eager to please, eager to hate, and easy to kill.” The sound of a small, plastic object hitting the ground rang out. Giselle looked down… and saw the panic button on the floor, coated in a new coat of red. Just alongside it sat her arm.
Her other arm shot around, grasping at her shoulder, grasping instead at the tender flesh at the very stump of her torso.
“You… You- you fuck-”
“You can stop talking now.” Silas wiped down his blade. “I’ll grab your uniform, wear a mask, make my way to the captain…”
“No… N-no, you fucking-” Her legs began to buckle, but she stayed upright from the willpower.
“If you try anything, I’ll take that other arm of yours. Be lucky I’ve left you with one.”
Giselle took a step back. Then another, then one more, going from a slow walk to a desperate sprint, trying in vain to stop the fountain of blood from spurting out of her side. The pain was irrelevant for now, but the tension was not. Her heart beat with ferocity, the wound on her shoulder squeezing out extra crimson with each terrified pump. A doctor wasn’t needed to know she had not long left, and the slow footsteps behind her promised that it wouldn’t just be the blood loss killing her.
“Stand still. Please… please, just stand still.” Silas grimaced as his feet entered the blood pool. Giselle’s legs spasmed, leaving her to trip and fall without the strength to get back up. The shadow of Silas loomed over her, blocking out the only light in the hall. The last of her strength was mustered to flip onto her back and bend her knees.
“Listen,” he gently spoke, tone like butter gently melting on a piece of toast, “it’s not your fault. Nobody can survive with an arm gone. It’s not your fault I won… It’s just how it goes.” Silas lifted the sword, letting the light pierce her eyes one final time.
The light reignited her will. As the sword came crashing down, Giselle mustered the last of her strength to throw her leg up, shooting her foot right in front of the blade and kicking against it with all her strength- it buried itself deep in her bone, leaving her to whimper but live- and shove her hand deep in her holster to grab her taser. Silas grunted, pushing against her foot until it was hanging off of the bone, but couldn’t get it all the way through. With a relieved sigh, her hand finally grasped the familiar curve of the handle, pulling it out and pressing it firm against his leg. Without a single second to spare, Giselle pulled the trigger.
“GUGHH...!"
Silas’s body shook, his hands loosening their grip on the blade- without the support of his counterweight, his body was left to plummet to the ground. Giselle took the opportunity to immediately shoot forwards, prying her foot from the sword with arduous and agonising sluggishness, before throwing her hands onto the agent and flipping him over. Two more shots to his thigh got rid of his struggling, and at last, a pair of cuffs were wrapped around his arms.
“There. I fucking got you.” Giselle gasped out, using her only intact leg to rise for just a second to slam her ID against the maintenance door. Her hand wrapped around the frame, pulling her head out of the hall.
Just before she succumbed to her wounds, she managed to control the rumbling in her throat for just long enough to let out a single word.
"HELP."
The maintenance door’s speaker blared into the hallway as the Syndicate Operative pressed his newly acquired Tourist ID against its scanner. Labelled with his given name “Silas”, and framed alongside a ‘portrait’ of a rather large DO NOT ENGAGE symbol, it was as low in approachability as it was in access. With a sigh of knowing despair, he turned around to his chaperone.
“Excuse me. Could you grab this door, too?” Within seconds, he received a tidy response.
“No.”
Giselle was hardly experienced, but it took a sizable amount of pure idiocy to let a criminal into the place where only nerds and criminals lived. Realistically, if she wasn’t to follow him in, the only people that would spot him were either nerds or other criminals; two sets of people that were frankly awful to talk to. Giselle leant to the side of the tunnel and continued her response, the red of her garb and hair serving to help her look at home within the outskirts of Security.
“The captain asked me to keep an eye on you at all times. I don’t particularly see a need for you to be here, let alone skulking about in the most dimly lit part of the station. We can go literally anywhere else- I’m sure there’ll be crowds of people ready to boo you there, which I can only imagine is the sole reason you showed up here so… conspicuously.” Syndicate spies were not so obvious about their appearances, and every time she remembered that fact, her eyes stared a little harder into his soul.
“Ah, but you see… I’m here on work. Technician work! I’m… a technician.”
“We have technicians.”
“Well, you have a new one?”
“Is that what they told you to say? We have a new one? That’s what your greatest minds in infiltration came up with?” She nearly scoffed, but the sincerity of his words was just too thick to doubt. There was something endearing about how expectant he looked, like his words alone were buttery enough to let him slide through the crack in the door. The sword on his hip kept her wits just as sharp as his blade, however.
A group of workers, scientists, walked by the pair. Their eyes burned into both of them, and just before Silas could reach an arm out to bother them with the same question, Giselle’s hand gripped his wrist and forced it back down to his side.
“No. Having to make me fucking follow you around is one thing. Bothering the workers is another.”
“You do not have to stay here, you know. I am trustworthy.” Silas smiled as he spoke, leaning back against the doorframe of Maintenance, eliciting another beep from its speaker. “You can leave me alone for a little. There’d be no problem.”
“I can’t think of a more forward criminal than you. You speak like you have some kind of… stake in this, you know? Like you have leverage. I choose whether or not you get in-”
“-ENOUGH!” The agent screamed. For a moment, the world stood still, as if the trigger of a gun against her neck had already been pulled. Silas continued within the silence.
“Make no mistake…” He glanced down to the card on her chest, squinting his eyes with anger, “...Giselle. My formal onboarding was not our best option. It was your best option. I would recommend following my orders, because you and I both know your pathetic little hunk of metal isn’t prepared for the kind of onslaught I can order.”
The silence perpetuated. Giselle stared at him, offended with the truth-laced sharpness of his words. Her fists clenched, and she leaned forwards. With a huff, she pushed Silas out of the way, muttering under her breath a single-
“Fuck you.” Giselle grasped her ID, cleaving it from her chest and slamming it against the maintenance door’s input. It chimed happily before opening wide.
The maintenance halls stunk of everything Giselle hated; crude oil, chemistry, and crime. The pair had just made it in before Silas began to walk with power, with purpose; she had no option aside from walking with him, staying behind to guarantee that he would be the victim of anybody jumping out to kill.
“So, dude, do you mind telling me what could possibly be in here that’s so pertinent to your mission?” She called out, idly gazing at the pipework around her. It was impressive, but downplayed by the fact that she had to keep throwing glances behind her. One, two, ten trips into this place and that feeling of eeriness never left its walls. Even the noise of her almost-certainly-evil compatriot starting to speak was warming… but the substance of the words was not.
“What I need?”
Silas stopped, and Giselle flicked her head back to keep both eyes on his form. There was no need to idly gaze behind her… danger radiated from him like heat from a fire. “What I need- or rather, what I needed,” he continued, “was a nice and quiet spot. Free from your coworkers, free from your little fucking cameras… perfect for finally getting you people off of my back.”
Giselle took a step back, reaching into her pouch with her left hand and producing her panic button.
“I have to be honest.” Silas turned around. A gas mask was firm on his face, shining red along its eyeholes. Giselle sucked in a breath, eyes quivering from inexperience. “Truth be told, this was our best option. You’ve all gotten in the way of our plans one too many times, and we’ve begun to lose hope. Your little fucking taser guns, cameras, radio systems, armed spacepods… they’ve a habit of cutting our antics short. No, what we really needed was innovation… and it’s that which I have provided to them.”
“Twelve…-” Giselle began-
“-Was us- well- Me’s the better word. It was me.” Even behind the mask, even behind the red, glee and sickening self-satisfaction secreted from his words, thick and slick against her throat. “Innovation was what they needed, and now, I’m a hero. Our next hit was always going to be Thirteen…”
Giselle’s finger gently began to push down on the panic button, her face trying its very best to be stoic against the aura of evil right in front of her-
SLASH!
Silas held the tip of his katana to Giselle’s neck. It was covered top-to-bottom in blood. Fresh, bright red blood.
“...And you were my entry point. New, eager to please, eager to hate, and easy to kill.” The sound of a small, plastic object hitting the ground rang out. Giselle looked down… and saw the panic button on the floor, coated in a new coat of red. Just alongside it sat her arm.
Her other arm shot around, grasping at her shoulder, grasping instead at the tender flesh at the very stump of her torso.
“You… You- you fuck-”
“You can stop talking now.” Silas wiped down his blade. “I’ll grab your uniform, wear a mask, make my way to the captain…”
“No… N-no, you fucking-” Her legs began to buckle, but she stayed upright from the willpower.
“If you try anything, I’ll take that other arm of yours. Be lucky I’ve left you with one.”
Giselle took a step back. Then another, then one more, going from a slow walk to a desperate sprint, trying in vain to stop the fountain of blood from spurting out of her side. The pain was irrelevant for now, but the tension was not. Her heart beat with ferocity, the wound on her shoulder squeezing out extra crimson with each terrified pump. A doctor wasn’t needed to know she had not long left, and the slow footsteps behind her promised that it wouldn’t just be the blood loss killing her.
“Stand still. Please… please, just stand still.” Silas grimaced as his feet entered the blood pool. Giselle’s legs spasmed, leaving her to trip and fall without the strength to get back up. The shadow of Silas loomed over her, blocking out the only light in the hall. The last of her strength was mustered to flip onto her back and bend her knees.
“Listen,” he gently spoke, tone like butter gently melting on a piece of toast, “it’s not your fault. Nobody can survive with an arm gone. It’s not your fault I won… It’s just how it goes.” Silas lifted the sword, letting the light pierce her eyes one final time.
The light reignited her will. As the sword came crashing down, Giselle mustered the last of her strength to throw her leg up, shooting her foot right in front of the blade and kicking against it with all her strength- it buried itself deep in her bone, leaving her to whimper but live- and shove her hand deep in her holster to grab her taser. Silas grunted, pushing against her foot until it was hanging off of the bone, but couldn’t get it all the way through. With a relieved sigh, her hand finally grasped the familiar curve of the handle, pulling it out and pressing it firm against his leg. Without a single second to spare, Giselle pulled the trigger.
“GUGHH...!"
Silas’s body shook, his hands loosening their grip on the blade- without the support of his counterweight, his body was left to plummet to the ground. Giselle took the opportunity to immediately shoot forwards, prying her foot from the sword with arduous and agonising sluggishness, before throwing her hands onto the agent and flipping him over. Two more shots to his thigh got rid of his struggling, and at last, a pair of cuffs were wrapped around his arms.
“There. I fucking got you.” Giselle gasped out, using her only intact leg to rise for just a second to slam her ID against the maintenance door. Her hand wrapped around the frame, pulling her head out of the hall.
Just before she succumbed to her wounds, she managed to control the rumbling in her throat for just long enough to let out a single word.
"HELP."