Remember Me Ch. 01

A/N: My second try at a weaponry story.

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Summary: "You want me to save the world from my demented Ex-Boyfriend? You've got to be kidding me."

In a world full of choices, Dante has only a few. She just wants a peaceful, quiet, gunless life in the country where she can forget her bloody past. Forged passports, name changes, and isolation in the most remote landmarks in the world seemed to be the only way to live.

But then the past comes knocking at her door with an offer... in exchange for her services. Just one last mission along with the most eligible agents in Hime; including the mysterious Drake Valentine. One mission that will redeem herself and give her the chance to live in peace without being hunted 24/7...

How could she refuse?

Mature themes including genres of romance, action, and tragedy. Very loosely inspired from Resident Evil.

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Chapter 001: Beginning of the end

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Dante took a rugged breath as she turned over in bed. Thin rays of sunlight flickered through her dark curtains, dust particles floating amid thin air. Usually she would expect her alarm clock to start screaming murder right about then. But after she went on the run Dante had decided to get rid of unnecessary things.

Annoying mechanics being one of them.

But still, eight years of isolation didn't erase her habits. Even without a clock she usually woke at dawn. It was hard for her to get rid of her OCD tendencies as well after she ran off. She had literally needed to discipline herself to stop being a neat freak.

If her former co-agents could see her now...

And like a light being switched on, Dantes drowsiness disappeared. In its place there was a bitter aftertaste of what could have been. She threw her covers off of her body, humid air basking over her, and slid her sun tanned legs over the bed.

'You can never let go can you?' She thought irritably as her feet made contact with the cool wooden floor of her bedroom.

'It's like you take pleasure out of torturing yourself.'

And it honestly seemed true. No matter how hard or long Dante tried, she couldn't keep the memories away. In fact, trying only seemed to emphasize her pain.

Not bothering to freshen up in the bathroom of her small shabby house, Dante slugged her robe adorned body toward her bedroom door. The wooden planks creaked underneath her feet and the door similarly made the same sound as she opened it. She really hated loud noises.

Which was kind of ironic, since her field of work dealt with guns. Well, more like former field of work. It seemed like everything needed to have a 'former' pinned in front of it now.

There was a time when she had been a normal girl. Well, as close to normal as someone like her could be.

Dante had been born Dantrese Reed, the child of two normal as fuck bookstore owners living in the slums of Hime city. Despite how similar her parents were-Brown hair, brown skin, brown eyes, and a love for literature-, Dante had still preferred her ditsy mother over her control freak father.

Sure Elka Reed hadn't been the sharpest tool in the shed. Despite being able to memorize the entire dictionary and even quote it word for word, she had been pretty dense in the social area. That had rubbed off on her daughter apparently, and for most of her life Dante had been the type to keep to herself.

It was a peculiar choice since in her small cyberpunk town everyone knew everyone.

Still. No one really knew what went on behind her head, and so no one had really expected for Dante to sign up for the army and become a soldier. Needless to say, Dantes parents hadn't supported her in her dream to become a warrior for Hime. She had been on her own.

Just like she was now.

Dante hummed quietly as she walked through her home towards the kitchen. It was a two story cabin like home, with the basic essentials. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a tiny bedroom that seriously needed to be refurbished. Not only was her house rotting old and reeking of essence oil, but it was in the middle of the Bahamud desert.

Miles away from Junsen city, the only populated area close enough for her to drive to without running out of gas.

It was safe to bet that it was a normal occurrence for the house to have severe heat waves. And with a faulty air conditioning system, Dante usually had to have a desk fan nearby. And even that didn't help much.

She should have just moved underground. Though the cons were there, Dante would have been safe and undetected...and she wouldn't even need air conditioning.

Sadly it was out of the question, since with her experience as an agent she knew that underground facilities were constantly being checked by government services. Not only that but she was a nomad runaway. She was never in one area for too long, and underground homes were hard to travel to and fro.

They would have found her in a month.

Dante scratched at the bare skin that peeked beneath her skin tight camisole and stepped into the kitchen. It was half the size of her tiny bedroom and cluttered from the small old style shelves to the bloodwood counter-tops.

She honestly hated deep shades of red because staring at the color for too long made her eyes bleed. Well, not literally but it irritated her. It was one of the many reasons why she hated the house, because the walls, floor, and yes even the counters were made of bloodwood.

It was like the fates were mocking her.

Grumbling to herself, Dante brushed stray strands of hair out of her eyes as she fumbled through the cupboards. Since becoming a runaway agent she hadn't been a heavy eater, and several a time she had checked her food supply only to realize she was low on munchables.

Including now, since all she saw in her cupboards and fridge was a small bottle of fruity cocktail and a box of oatmeal. Dust seemed to be her new roomate, since it was literally everywhere. And she hated oatmeal...

So much for a yummy breakfast then.

With a scowl Dante yanked the box of raw oats out of the cabinet and fetched a small pot to boil it in. She had never been picky with her choice of food, but some of the natives of Junsen had visited their new 'neighbor' to give her welcome gifts. Which so happened to be several bags of self grown groceries and homemade 'peace' quilts.

She'd eaten her fill of yogurt and fruit and hadn't seen the need to go shopping since the town was so far and it had seemed like enough food to last a lifetime at the moment. There had been so much her fridge had been overflowing for crying out loud.

But now it was the complete opposite, and none of the natives had visited since then. Dante was pretty sure they had forgotten her. She wasn't a social butterfly after all, and despite their kindness they obviously still thought of her as a mysterious foreigner and no more.

Just the way she liked it. If a government detective did so happen to find the small and remote town of Junsen, it was unlikely the natives would mention her. Her house was a tiny dot in the distance and as far as she knew, no one had lived in it for decades. For good reason. Who in their right mind would look for her there?

Dante got her answer abruptly in the form of a loud knock on her kitchen door. The kitchen was at the very front of the house and donned one of the two only exits. Since her door had no window or peephole, Dante couldn't see who it was without opening the door.

Glancing at the rifle that hung beside coat rack, Dante took a deep breath and turned the stove heat down. She looked down at her attire. She was showing alot of skin since her camisole and boy shorts weren't exactly modest. Her robe was ratty and her curls were unkempt. But she wasn't about to go through the trouble of changing her clothes. It was too hot for that.

Sighing, Dante turned toward the door and shouted for the person to hold on.

'It's probably just a native.' Dante thought silently as her ashy fingers fumbled with the lock.

When the door finally swung open, Dante quickly put on a fake smile and lifted her head to welcome whoever it was. Of course, when her eyes focused on the view in front of her, Dante froze in her tracks.

Several uniformed men stood before her on the dusty patio, their eyes hidden beneath dark tinted sunglasses. A large helicopter was planted a few yards off, and Dante briefly wondered how they landed without her hearing.

And just as quickly as the thought came, it vanished as one of the men took a step forward. Dante felt her heart beat quicken at a rapid pace as she quickly tried to shut the door. But a large booted foot swung forward and lodged between the door and the wall, halting her attempt.

"Good morning Ms.Sandal, or should I say former Agent Reed." A deep voice called from behind the door. Dante swallowed a large lump that had formed in her throat.

Jessie Sandal had been her cover name when she transferred to Bahumad. There was only one way these men could know her real name. They had found her. Eight years of laying low and they had still fucking found her.

Her gun. She needed her gun.

"Who's asking for her?" Dante replied coldly as she pressed harder against the door with one arm and lifted her other to reach for the rifle. It was just inches beyond her reach.

"Reed, I'd advise you to not ask questions. Remove your hold from the door and let us in. Failure to do so will require us to go by forceful means-" The voice went on. Dantes resolve snapped that very second.

"Not likely asshole! You tell the Hime Navy that I'm done being their puppet." And with that she summoned every ounce of her strength and slammed the door on the mans foot. She heard a howl and then curses as the foot slipped away, allowing the door to slam shut.

With rapid speed she locked the door and grabbed for her gun. The oatmeal forgotten, Dante sped through the house and toward her bedroom, which had the only other exit in the house.

It was more of a fire exit, but it led to a blind spot outside of the house. If she hadn't heard the men coming it was plausible to assume they had her place surrounded. The blind spot led to her car, and her car was the only ticket out of there.

Her only bet was to lose them, and the only way to do that was to get to the city and hide. She quickly threw her robe to the ground and grabbed for her jeans and boots. She couldn't very well run off in her pajamas.

At that very moment she heard the door to her kitchen slam open. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed throughout the house, and she heard shouted orders to find and restrain her.

'Well. Fuck.'

With no time to spare, Dante slung her purse over her shoulder and pushed open the fire escape. The heat of the desert sun stung her shoulders as she climbed out back first, rifle in hand.

But the second she was safely out of the house and above the metal stairs leading to her car down below, Dante felt the cold barrel of a gun push against her neck.

Her blood ran cold just as the uniformed men ran into her room, guns at attention. They spotted her instantly but froze when they saw who was behind her.

With her heart pounding a mile a minute, Dante slowly turned her body to face the perpetrator who had ruined her escape. Her jaw went slack and her expression filled with recognition when gray eyes met blue. Eyes that belonged to her former partner and co-agent.

The blue eyes of Elliot Brasker. And boy did he look furious. Despite the cold smile that adorned his pale lips, he didn't make a move to lower his gun. Even after Dantes rifle fell to the ground.

"Found you."

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