Survival With an Assassin (#2)

Oh, don't die yet...

The narrator stated softly as he searched through his screen to find where they were out of worry.

Narrow wouldn't be alive to find another job if he can't find the protagonist. He left for a moment, just a mere second, and he lost him. Well at least he was gone for about 5 to 10 minutes. Give or take.

As the man flip to different places where this chapter takes part and finally found him with the assassin. He sighed in relief that he had found them and that Preacher is not technically dead, but more importantly is that he's alive, and his job is safe for another day.

The older man, -who is only a few years older than the protagonist-, mentally pat himself on the back for not losing them. He cleared his throat.

B-Back to our protagonist, Preacher was... oh lord... -disbelief-

The narrator, apparently had found himself back at a wrong time or noticed what was going on. What was happening was, Connie had Preacher's shirt off, not that it was anything... unprofessional that is. She's only doing it to disinfect and patch up the wounds that scattered among his body. However, that's not the first concerning thing he found out.

The most concerning part that there're small tubes connected to the pale man's arms. Small, singular tubes on each arm with dark liquid flowing through them. Although it won't really be a surprise, the man does have robot hands, Narrow thought softly;

'Thank god for not having Preacher wake up at this moment because otherwise more injuries would ensue, and he's not talking about debris,'

Speaking of the man, the sound of a soft grunt alerted the narrator. He saw movement from him.

To Preacher's point of view, his visor fully powered up and fixed. His memory card is perfectly safe, as well as his vision. “What-?” He was about to ask the woman patching him up at the moment on what was going on.

However, he earned a slap to the face.

“Don't ever. Go near a bomb like that again... anyone with common sense can hear a bomb beeping-! Why didn't you run?!” she growled loudly, with her hand wrapped around his neck, she didn't strangle him too hard. Otherwise, she'd be responsible for murder.

She was shaking him, making Preacher babble words and choking from lack of air from this crazy assassin strangling the lights out of him.

Oh, dear heavens-!!

“Lady-! Can ya- stop that-!” he coughed out as she finally let go on realization that she nearly killed him.

Once he was released, he flop back down on the sleeping bag he was on with a wheeze, turning to his sides, he coughed and once again winced at his freshly patched up wounds. Connie scoot back a little with a sulky huff. “God, you're so weak...” she blew a strand of blonde hair away from her forever glaring eyes.

Preacher finally breathe easy, he looked at her with his mouth open to ask her what the heck she was doing but immediately shuts it when her glare was combined with sharp gritting teeth.

Whatever you do... don't move...

“She's not a damn T-Rex...” The pale man glared when he glanced upward. However, he made a mistake by saying it to her face which earned him a fist to the side of his face, “care to repeat that?” she growled lowly, like a dog ready to chow down on unforgiving trespassers.

Or make any sounds-!

The poor protagonist grunted and groan lowly in pain, “Like I need a warning, idiot-” He may have a dead wish since she heard and immediately became offended, she kicked him in the-

Ooh... you should put ice on that...

Even the narrator couldn't witness that without covering his own crotch out of instinct. Preacher felt the air was kicked out of him, he wheezed as he fell to his sides with a groan. “If yer going to help my part of the deal, just tell me already dumbass...” He squeaked out of wheezing.

“Why you piece of-!” She was ready to kick him again until she heard rustling outside. Connie let out a frustrated gruff before she mumbled and head out to see what or who's nearby. Preacher sighed in relief as he glanced up again.

You're welcome...

If Preacher were to say something, he would probably say whatever by now.

I found the scene you're in at the moment, apparently she was supposed to get hurt during the explosion but nonetheless it's the same thing but the other way around.

“So? What should I say without making her ticked (off) than I did already?”

Women are a mystery to me as well, Hmm... however, there's a way for her to be nice to you. Just be nice to her back.

With that being said he glanced at where went off and then glanced back up again, “how? I think that cookie is all spice instead of sugar and everything nice.” He stopped himself from talking too much when he realized he rhymed.

Appears to me rhyming won't get you anywhere young man.

“That's not on purpose-!!!” he quietly yelled.

Then that's when she return, mumbling once again though she's not feeling up to small talk at the moment. Connie sat on a stool and began to sharpen her dagger, in Preacher's head indicated that if he were to say at least one word, she'd cut his head clean off. Or at least that's what he imagined.

... say something...

“Like what? She'll cut my head off?” He whispered enough for her to not hear. The blonde merely took few glances at him and went back to sharpening her dagger.

She might if you don't speak. Honestly have you ever spoken to women?

An eye roll was a reply, “have you?”

Jokes on you, I have spoken to women!

The man merely raised a brow with a look that says, 'yeah right.'

... only one but still, I have.

“You're not from around here are you?” She finally spoke towards the pale man. Preacher blinked, as the digital eyes focused on the dagger being sharpened. He gulped in nervousness, biting his tongue as he tried to choose his words wisely.

Just say you are, Preacher.

The man hushed him, as he thought of the right choice of words. “Yeah… I'm really not... how obvious was I?”

The assassin hummed, “quite, as well as choosing honesty. That's a good choice... otherwise I'll kill you.” Connie threw her dagger near him but thankfully it went past his head and stabbed the wall.

“... Can I at least have a reasonable conversation after being blown up, crushed by rubble and strangled?” Preacher sighed as he's getting tired of this near death thing he's going through.

Connie scoffed and she actually laughed. “There's nothing reasonable, in this city... People are crazy left and right, only those apartments are the people that are at least sane...” she crossed her arms leaning back against the wall.

She's a tough one... do not make any mistakes...

“Dude, this is a conversation, not a date.” He hissed quietly looking away from her. The blonde already noticed that this strange cyborg looking man has been talking to himself for the past minute, she began to conduct theories on if this man is crazy as everyone else or if he's talking to someone. She checked him over when he was unconscious and found no trace of equipment attached to him that relates to a two functioning communication device.

Preacher noticed she's been waiting for a reply, or, so he thought. Apparently she's only observing him. “Uh, what?” he asked dumbfounded. She merely shrugged, “nothing, just you look crazy talking to yourself.” This assassin has a look that says, 'I'm on to you.'

That's it- We're finished- you're going to die- I'm going to get fired- oh the humanity-!!!

'If you stop being a drama queen... let me handle it please...' he mentally groaned underneath his breath. “Okay let me explain... I've...” He trailed off as she raised a brow in question, waiting for his so-called explanation.

The protagonist sighed, “I've been sent here to do this stupid scene because of me being the protagonist and I made a deal with the narrator, so he'll keep his stupid job, so I can live my stupid life without suffering a total reset and go through puberty again.” He stated quickly, taking a breather.

As if Connie believed him, “alright... crazy man...” Preacher slumped his shoulders with a frown, he told her the full story but apparently it's not enough to convince her.

What will our protaganist do? Tune in the next short hours...

Few hours later of cooperating with the assassin...

In these last few chapters you may know, Connie has taken our protagonist hostage. Or... recruitment? I'm not completely sure either. However, she doesn't trust nor think Preacher is capable for recruitment that can fit her standards.

“Standards my butt man, is she on that time of the month- or something?” Preacher whined with a frown. The man was given some new clothes, which is merely a big t-shirt and knee-length shorts. Connie does have some common sense not to have him wear burnt and torn up rags, it's a wonder if she had killed someone wearing this shirt.

“Keep up that insanity of yours, I'll take you to somewhere safe and padded.” She called out from the outside. “Look- Connie- right? I'm not crazy- it's legit the truth.” he crossed his arms with a frown.

The assassin walked in, “well-” she paused herself as she handed him some Chinese take out she went to get in those hours, “-I'm not legit believing a word you say, now eat, so I can kick you out in the morning.” Since she lost her targets, she's going to get an earful from her client.

He groaned, as he grabbed his take out. Preacher grumbled softly, he is pretty sick of this protagonist thing but... apparently this is worth more than puberty for this pale man. By taking out the chopsticks, he fiddled with the food in there. The man took notice of the blonde's side view. Since she's not wearing her assassin attire, but wearing a sweater and some track pants. He had to admit her skinny body is cute, it matches up with her natural smooth skin on her face.

Ahem, Romeo, stop staring at the assassin. Also, I decided to rewrite the scripts and have this all figured out. I may get in trouble but... my boss never said anything about changing the script.

Preacher munched on his fried noodles. Technically, talking with his mouth full, however the narrator can make out what the man had said. 'No shit Sherlock'.

-scoffed- Manners, Preacher. You're in a lady's presence.

With that being said, Connie popped in a pill of some sort into her mouth as she took her bottle of water and drank it, swallowing the pill in the process. The pale man swallowed his food when he took notice of her taking a pill. “What are you taking, Blondie?” he asked, putting his now empty take out box aside.

She scoffed at him. “Medicine, duh.”

False, it's a drug to keep her strength on low during the day. In her description, she's considered dangerous to the public with her strength and her short tempered personality. However...

The narrator paused as to hear Connie coughed a bit. She covered her mouth to muffle them.

... It's slowly killing her. Very slowly.

To be continued...

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