THEKYLEKURTZ'S PROFILE

Hey, I'm new here so I hope it's not too early for me to be posting work or anything. This is a story I completed before, and I'm in the process of editing it so any feedback would be appreciated. I can't stress enough how little I mind criticism.

Here is the first 2 chapters.

Chapter One: Hope




He moved without attracting even a glance, evanescent in the shadows splashed across the complex. His boots silently padded across the pavement, bringing him to the edge of an open door. A man took a single step out into the night, subsequently driven to the floor with a knife jammed down his trachea on the way.


Stroke looked up into the dimly lit hallway, knife pulled free from the man's spine with a bloody snap as he descended into the building. Each threat along the way fell before he had a chance to scream. One after another he left a trail of red cookie crumbs towards his target. Stroke shifted along the darkness, watching the last guard berate the trio of hostages, butt of his rifle roughly connecting with the jaw of one foolhardy enough to talk back.


The guard turned to the sound of a pistol cocking, silencer pushing against his forehead as Stroke sent a round tearing through the man's mind. He moved quickly, crimson blade slicing the binds at the prisoners hands. The youngest of them, a skinny blonde who couldn't be a day over twenty thanked him. Stroke stared down at her, blue eyes tinged with gray caught between pity and apprehension. His mouth opened, but he didn't say anything.



Red lights crashed throughout as alarms blared, warnings of an intruder rough on their ears. Stroke finally spoke, voice rough as he roared, “Run!” The four burst through the facility, Stroke only having to fire a few more rounds on the way. They dashed into the chilly night air, the three struggling to continue before the bridge ahead.


Stroke saw the lights at the end, recognizing the vehicles as he felt the first round hit. It easily pierced his vest, fifty caliber round exploding from his chest in a red spray across the pavement. The three stopped, staring uncertainly as he stumbled to a halt, blood frothing between his lips as he ordered them to keep running.


The blonde was the last to go, turning in time to miss another round hit. Stroke stumbled toward the edge, blood trickling free from him now as he struggled to stay on his feet. He turned to face the sniper, knowing somewhere on a rooftop he was lining up his sights. Between ragged gasps he smiled despite the agony, last bullet taking him off his feet.


His thin form flew off of the bridge, finally splashing into the inky water below. Even immersed in the cold, feeling his life flow free into the river Stroke continued to smile. He watched the blood and bubbles of his last breaths twist above.


And finally, he died.






Chapter Two: Immortal



“Activate Eighty Three.” The woman looked up from her monitor, thin rimmed glasses slipping from her soft blue eyes. She pushed them back up and asked, “What, why? The last already-” General Magnus stood over her, voice resonating if he wasn't already imposing enough,


“Dr. Andrews, that's an order. You can review his memories from last night some other time, but for now strike them from the record and recalculate his birth date ahead two months.”Dr. Andrews brushed aside a lock of blonde hair from her face, looking down at her hands before answering with another question,



“Do you think it's time we do another rewrite? He may become unstable if we keep using the same-”



“It'll be fine. That's my call. Now activate him, we don't have all day.” She nodded passively, biting her lip as she typed in several prompts, finally accessing the Stroke mainframe. With only another password the two looked up at the sound of hissing, cryogenic chamber in the vault moaning to life.


General Magnus stalked away from her desk, looking out the window at the rows of chambers, each fashioned like a coffin. One separated from the wall, gently landing on the track towards the two. Dr. Andrews adjusted the transmissions received from the last shell, prepping the download for the new body. She looked out at the still body being drawn from it's chamber with remorse, prepared to bring Stroke back to life.



The technicians took the body out of it's resting place and she began the download, wireless transceiver in the blank brain firing wave after wave of impulses. In only a few minutes, he was taken and propped up in the showers, still quivering as the steaming water blasted his cyanotic form.


The General watched for only a moment longer, ensuring the rebirth went well. Finally he turned to Dr. Andrews, smile plastered across his fading features as he said, “Looks like he'll come out just fine. Last couple ones have been doing very well. Good job.”



She only looked down at her hands again, feebly replying “Yeah.” From the showers Stroke emerged with a towel draped across his waist, complaining, “Don't you hate when you feel so cold after a shower? I don't get it.” Dr. Andrews faked a smile, replying weakly, “Maybe you should get some rest then.” Stroke nodded, intense features contorting as he rubbed his head and agreed,


“Yeah, my head's killing me. Night Doc, see you tomorrow.”