GAINSBOROUGH, CELOSIA

TWENTY-THREE

FEMALE

HETEROSEXUAL

MILITARY

instrument

RESEARCH

Celosia wasn’t always the daughter of destruction. Born as an only child to a well-to-do mother and the affluent director of the Military Board, Celosia was to live a prosperous life in the Alpha Sector. The first five years of her life were rather sheltered. A line-up of doting nannies took care of her every whim, and her dearest parents cherished her as their trophy. She had the entire Biome at the length of her fingertips.

But alas, good things never last. Her father took on a grim state on the days preceding her sixth birthday. He locked himself in the confines of his office, and designed a special “gift” for his beloved daughter. So on the eve of Celosia’s sixth birthday, her father swept her from her bed in the wee hours of the night and ushered her into one of the testing facilities. As all fortunate children do, Celosia trusted her father; she was certain he wouldn’t do anything heinous. Her father bestowed upon her what he thought to be the greatest gift of all, a genetic enhancement.

Her father’s logic behind the procedure was dubious at best. The popular belief was that he wanted to see if the Board could mold proficient and obedient soldiers from a young age. The procedure was quick and painless; Celosia can’t recall ever feeling a thing. It’s the one thing her father did right, she supposes. Being only a child at the time, she was bed-ridden for the days following the procedure. Her “gift” is the ability to involuntarily conjure a barrier to ward off the effects of a Potential’s attack. She experiences the attack full-throttle, but the properties are diminished. Besides subsequently becoming accustomed to the bearing of her “gift” and feigning undying gratitude to her father, life went on as was expected for dear Celosia.

Despite vehement pleas and protests, her father admitted his daughter in her twelfth year into specialized training. She was to become a tool for Task Board assassins to utilize, an instrument of unbridled power. Over the grueling years of training, her arms and legs became taut with muscle. Her eyes had grown dim, no longer gleaming with a fluorescent blue. In her father’s mind, she had blossomed into what he had intended her to be, a product of the Biome.

She tries with a great deal of effort to leave emotions out of her work. There's no time to impart anguished declarations of remorse when the carnage will occur either way. Some people gossip that she's a cold-blooded murderer, a heartless killer, the daughter of destruction. Those accusations are only partially true. Celosia has a heart with warm blood flowing through her veins — of that there's no doubt — it's that she's learned through years of experience that emotions only complicate things.

Her complexion has taken a paler hue of late, and the arms hinged with taut muscle dangle at her sides. She's wilting like a delicate flower. The overwhelming shame of committing atrocities in the past, from setting a Beta Sector barn ablaze to slaughtering innocent Potentials, has become etched into her very being. "Judge me by my actions in the present, not by my former self," she reassures herself. Recently disillusioned by the misguided ideals set forth by the Biome officials, she contemplates donning the mantle of traitor. The only hitch in the plan is the state of her father's reputation and her inevitable execution.

None have ever truly known the woman beneath the soldier's guise. Celosia comes across as haughty and almost downright cynical, but the premise of her actions are often misconstrued. She acts within the boundaries of her duties, not in accordance with her personal moral code. Whether originating from her sheltered childhood, the reception of her atrocities or the way she carries herself, she struggles to connect with others as they habitually distrust her.

"Celosia-" How many times must I plead of you to not say my name like that, Julian? I'm not an ignorant child; I know what's to be done. The crimson wall of the barn towered above the woman and the man she accompanied. Dark stubble lined the assassin's chiseled jawline, his thin lips twisting downward in a faint grimace. He inquired, "Is everything okay?" He noticed. With an ever-so-slight bow of her head, she ran her crystal blue eyes along the length of the barn.

Silence danced awkwardly about the pair, a breeze whistling through the barn's wooden boards. Neither of them were much for words or pointless conversations, and Celosia took some amount of comfort in the quiet. Julian graced his hand on the gaunt wing of her shoulder, brushing the thick brown tassels of her hair to the side. She shifted herself around to meet his blue-gray gaze, and his arm fell back to his side with a soft thump. He said softly, "Whatever happens, I'm by your side." 

By my side. Celosia cringed. The mission at hand required no feelings, no exchange of mutual fondness. "Julian," she enjoined, "I appreciate your consolation, really I do, but this can be postponed until after the mission is completed." His expression sank and he nodded compliantly. He was the only assassin I've collaborated with took my opinions into consideration. Perhaps I could make the effort to be a little easier on him. "The plan is to invade the barn, exterminate any signs of Potential activity, and dispose of the debris promptly. Do you have any questions?" Julian nodded his head eagerly.

Shepherding the fledgling assassin around to the front of the barn, she fixated on the wide two doors making up the entrance. Celosia pulled out her semi-automatic pistol from under her leather jacket and whispered under her breath, "I want us to storm in there together to catch them off guard. Typically, I would go in first to soak up the brunt of their attacks, but I figured you'd want a piece of the action from the start." I'd give him that at least. A pearly-white, lopsided grin manifested on his face, and she couldn't help but to reciprocate.

Celosia unbolted the door and let the door fall open. She motioned for Julian to follow her into the barn. A foyer paved with hay and manure was surrounded on both sides by two sets of four stables. Huddled in the near-center of the barn, what looked to be a family with a man, a woman, and three children held each other firmly. They knew. Julian pressed along quickly, and Celosia sprinted to catch up. There was no trepidation about the assassin, only an intense fervor that he was conditioned to embrace.

Approaching the quivering family, Celosia took a deep breath to give the semblance of composure. She commanded, "I'm going to try to make this as painless as possible-" Julian interjected sternly, "All Potentials to the back of the barn!" She shot a glare his waty. The hostages didn't move. The team prowled around the huddled family, their weapons at hand. The mother remarked off-handedly to Celosia, "You monster." Fumbling with his gun, Julian fired at the woman. She uttered a bloodcurdling scream and sank into the hay. Furrows depressed in her brow, Celosia glanced at the assassin. Julian... Cheeks lit up cherry-red, the father trembled violently and bellowed. He drew near to the assassin with his fists clenched. Julian fired again, and the father fell in suit.

All that remained were the children. Celosia rustled her jet black combat boots in the hay with every step as she advanced toward them. The older sister took the youngest sibling in her arms. Unlike her brother who stood in front of her with wide arms, her expression was not of hate but of grim acceptance. She swallowed the fate that befell her. She's the one. Why else would she look so pleased with herself? "Now you're going tell us which one of you are Potentials," Celosia's eyes like burning axes, "Or we're just going to have to kill you all."

Placing her younger brother on the ground and gently motioning her other brother to the side, the older sister bowed her head. Only the crinkle of her smudged yellow mary-janes against the hay broke the eerie silence that pervaded the barn.  A glistening tear trailed down the side of her soft cheek. "I'm the one you want," her voice cracked at the end, a lingering despondent echo in the barn. Celosia turned her head to look at Julian for something. Reassurance? Confirmation? She wasn't sure of the reason. Rotating her head back to face the girl, Celosia bit her lip. With a sideways glance, she rose her gun with a trembling hand. Julian, I can't do this. Julian, we already killed her parents; isn't that enough? Don't let doubts seep in where they're unwarranted, Celosia. The trigger clicked back and with an earsplitting — shot! — the figure of the girl fell to the ground. Her knees buckled under her sylphlike torso, her chocolate-brown curls sprawling over the hay.

With a step to the right, Celosia beckoned to the entrance of the barn, "The rest of you are free to go." The brothers looked at one another for a moment and walked off hand-in-hand. Julian came up behind Celosia. "Well that was easy enough," he pulled out a matchbox and handed it to the woman. The daughter of destruction took it and marshaled the assassin and herself out of the barn. Outside the entrance on the corner of the right side, she struck a match to the barn. Red-on-red, the inferno overtook the structure quickly. Celosia bowed her head as the crinkle of the fire lulled her into a trance. Orders or not, I can't deny my regrets.

MADE BY KIROUKO OF GANGNAM-STYLE