-Control by Hasley

Flashbacks from today's mission played over in her mind as she dawned her gloves and prepared to strike.

One, two, one, two, one, kick, one, two.

This has been her daily routine.

After every assignment she goes down to the workout room to clear her mind and refocus.

Today's mission … There had been some … complications. Unexpected circumstances.

She kept her calm as she carried out her routine with ease. With control.

She could remember every detail clearly.

She remembered the determination she had felt as she chased her target through the icy streets of the night.

One, two, one, two.

The sounds.

The sounds still fresh in her ears.

The sound of her car's engine as she sped through the streets.

One, two, kick, one, two.

The sound of the impact her car had made when hitting that of her target's as she rammed their rear bumper.

Sweat formed on her brow as her movements became faster.

The sound of tires screeching as her target tried to break and regain control.

Her eyes grew hard, her movements becoming even faster and harsher.

Memories had completely flooded her vision now. Flowing within her mind fluidly.

"No.", she thought to herself. "Don't. This mission was no different from any other. It had been a success."

She carried on. Clearing her mind once again.

"Control. Control." She chanted over and over to herself, in time with each strike.

The sound of her hitting the punching bag reverberated throughout the room. She felt content when she was able to come down here, at this time during the evening. No one else was here. It worked out for her that way. She hated the stares she got from the others.

She heard the whispers behind her back whenever she walked through the halls to deliver her report. She knew they were nervous around her. Scared of her even. She knew what they thought of her. She had been raised to be like this. She knew she was considered a favourite, the best at what she does.

She didn't care.

The name "Mercy". As she grew older she became to hate it. She knew she had been named that as a joke.

Mercy. Please.

There is no mercy shown in what she does. She grew tired of hearing that name. Her amateur lessons in hacking taught her two things. One, that she was no good with computers. And two, 404. A code she remembered and felt was true to her. 404, not found. Mercy, doesn't exist. She remembered smiling at that. Perfect.

Let them call her that instead. It was far more fitting than "Mercy". As far as the outside world was considered, she didn't exist anyway. So why not.

404's fists continued of their own accord. Her mind no longer focusing on her movements, but on her memories. Soon, the events of today came back into her mind to haunt her.

Each strike she made had the scenes replaying again and again.

Until.

The screech of fearful children flooded her ears. Wincing in pain she pressed her forehead to the punching bag as she gripped the sides of it within her hands. Nails digging in the leather, eyes shut closed.

"No, no! Control, control, control! Don't!"

She remembered each painful moment. It was the first time she was caught off guard. The sound of children screaming rang through her ears. The look on their faces as they looked back at her through the rear window, the vehicle teetering off the bridge, icy water just beneath.

She opened her eyes, revealing them to be filled with rage. Hateful.

They did not inform her. They didn't tell her!

Each strike was fueled by her anger.

They lied to her! There were children in that car!

She ignored the tears that began to prick her eyes. She was angry.

And she was losing her control.

She tried. As soon as she had snapped out of her daze, she had tried. The water was too cold. The car was sinking too fast. She didn't want this. She never intended this! But she let it happen. She was the one responsible now!

If only she had known. She would have never. Never! She had never taken a life that she did not intend. That hadn't been her target. Especially children.

She roared her frustration as she attacked the bag in a blur of movements, tears streaming down her face.

She didn't want this!

Her instincts kicked in as soon as she felt a presence near.

With one last hit she whipped her head towards the doors. Yellow eyes narrowed as she saw who stood there.

Luciel, 707.

The agency's best hacker.

He stood there looking at her with solemn eyes. Like he understood.

She scoffed at the idea. He didn't understand. All his work was done behind a computer screen. He wasn't the one with blood on his hands.

She straightened. She held back any lingering tears, eyes being red and swollen. Feeling his eyes watching her movements, she gathered her things and walked towards where he stood. He made no move to give her extra space. No move to try and comfort her with words. It wasn't anything she was expecting anyway.

She grew closer. Holding her head up, she looked straight ahead as she passed by him. Walking towards the exit, leaving him behind. Not even bothering to acknowledge his presence.

Her eyes filled with bitterness.

She didn't see how Luciel's hands clenched into fists and she didn't hear the sound of his sorrowful sigh he released as she walked away.