text: "We have plenty of time." The voice called out from behind, a throaty, chilling voice that was just as out of breath as I was, choking up on the dust that flew into their mouth as we ran. My feet pounded the floor, scraping at the rocks and sand in this torturous desert as I feel my heart ramming into my ribs, my body begging for me to stop but I won't. I breathe out, leaning forward and jumping over a rock here and there, running past into the mini village that lay settled between two abnormal canyon rocks. You'd occasionally hear the townspeople yell, "Hey!" or, "Running is proh-" but I couldn't care to zone into their words much less than to stop running. Because the woman behind me was one made from an engine so powerful she could keep running for miles, literally. I turn a sharp left, skidding on the floor and flailing my arms around before regaining balance and sprinting off, cutting into an alley with walls coated in an ugly white, clothes shattered on lines above and around the floor as I desperately try not to entangle my feet into them, but there was one thing that I had noticed past my harsh breath and the slamming of my feet. There was no longer an echo of my thudding, and as I slow to a stop I allow myself to regain my breath, hacking and coughing up dust and whatever else my dry throat can offer as I lean against a wall, looking back to find that no one was there. And it was awfully quiet too... A little too quiet. I inhale, holding my breath as the sound of the bustling town plays in the background, the shifting clothes in the almost non-existent wind rustling against my ear as I scan the environment. The scene was god awful too. Shattered pottery and glass had scattered all over the floor alongside soil and plants that hadn't been watered for near days. The only sound I could hear was my heart, that was still hammering at my chest as my hand trails up to grip the fabric that hid my torso, slumping my back against the wall as I squint, falling down onto the surface as I still wheeze for air, closing my eyes and feeling the beads of sweat slide down my fair skin. I could still hear her. She wasn't here, at least not that I can see, but she was here. The shift in her movements due to not being oiled for days, the way her breath trailed down people's ears after an unsuccessful heist. The way her eyes burned holes in your head when she was angry, clenching her mechanical fists before closing her eyes and tilting her head up, smiling to herself and fixing her hair. And if you're wondering, she was angry. Very angry, and angry at me. A nearby pot shatters on the floor next to me, and as I open my eyes I feel the air leave my lungs as a powerful blow is dealt into my stomach, causing me to hunch over with wide and terrified eyes as I fall onto my side, clutching my stomach and gritting my teeth to keep me from screaming out. So she can't hear me, right? "Plenty of time that I won't be wasting on anyone at the likes of you." I open my eyes slowly, my vision divided into two and slowly blurring into normality, my back pressed against the shards on the floor as I grunt, trying to sit up but it was useless. She brings her hand down onto my shoulder, drilling me into the floor and being held there, as she leans down. She was still so young... the same girl I knew back at high school down near the docks of "River Side". Though she changed. Her hair was short and ruffed, as if been cut by a child in the middle of a tantrum that she knows how to style well, though she wasn't all skin, as a large patch of metallic skin conceals half of her face reaching from her right eye to the corner of her left jaw. Her eyes were a sharp yellow, like those of a bald eagle as her brows knit together in the most unearthly irritated expression. Her lips parted to breathe softly as she cracks that same old grin I recognise from years ago. Back when she was still human. "You offend me, Hexen." She speaks soft and slow, an edge embedded in her tone as she lets go of my shoulder, only to bring it up and connect her knuckles down onto the side of my face. The blow sends me straight to the wall again, feeling as my side hits the concrete wall before I roll back down onto it again, causing me to gasp out, my mouth hanging wide open as she walks back over, gripping my face and lifting me up close to hers, growling through gritted teeth. "Give me the amulet." I stare up at her, feeling the blood tickle my lips down to my neck as I crack a smile, earning another sadistic blow to the face as I let out a loud groan, hearing her stand up as I rub my jaw, fixing it straight and massaging the pain, spitting specks of blood onto the floor as if it would make it look anywhere near prettier. "I don't want to hurt you but you are making it rather difficult not to." She begins, running her hands through her hair as she turns back around me. She was tall, a black, denim jacket lazily thrown over her shoulders as a ripped, black shirt is shown underneath, as if she'd gone through hell and back. And she did. She wore monstrous boots, spikes jutting out from near every angle around the brim edges of the shoe, the laces winding up to the top and back around from the length. Her jeans were ripped, and not the type of ripped you'd buy from a store, they were ripped, long gashes slashed from her knee to her ankle, exposing the metal beneath or the skin, depending on where you looked. She was a mess, and she was losing her patience fast too. "We both know what you will do with that damn amulet." I spit at her foot, and she simply smiles, bringing her hands together and breathing in slowly. "It's for the best, give me the amulet." "I'm not giving you the blasted amulet, chase me all you want I won't hand it over to you." I stand my ground, trying to haul myself up but ending up using the wall and ledges as support, leaning back against the surface with an obvious limp. "It'll be easier to retrieve it from you if you were dead, but dead is not the state I want to leave you behind with." "Oh, but near dying is fine?" I tease, grimacing as she lets out a small chuckle from the empty joke. "Dying state is perfect." She finally repeats, "Stop being so stubborn Hex. We both know that this is for the best, and one of the only ways to stop the machine. I'm not the bad guy Hexen, we just need to blow it up and we can only do that if your naïve hands toss it over." "You will blow the ENTIRE WORLD if you choose to do that." I yell. "SO WHAT?" She yells back, and the atmosphere grows silent, tension crawling through the air as she begins walking over to me, her fists clenched together and her jaw tensed. "You'd rather breath dust, ash, and smoke for the rest of your life? You'll be dead before you even reach 30." She leans her face closer towards mine, speaking slowly between gritted teeth as I feel myself sink further into the wall. She gently grips my face again, before tightening the grasp as I squirm against the wall, my hand diving down into my pocket and clasping around the gem. "I don't have a death wish, Mox." I breathe, and she tilts her head, her eyes wide and her face unmoving. "Oh, but it's a shame that I do then, isn't it?" She smiles, and her hand connects to my arm fast enough to make my heart lunge up to my throat, cracking the wall as I feel my arm embed in the wall, and it takes all I have not to yell out in front of her, but I wish used to this sort of stuff. "Give it up Hex." She says, a newfound solemn tone to her voice now as her fingers work down to clasp my hand, and though I didn't notice, I was holding my breath, watching her every move as I feel her fingers slip into my palm, gently lifting the amulet out of my grasp, before taking a step back and nodding at me, before turning on her heal and flinging the amulet around her fingers, "We were never going to make it."