The Amnesiac - A Zako Story


Vivacious Visitor
Sep 18, 2018
Hello! I’m a lurker, and I’m here to add another story of decent length (at least, that’s the intention right now) to the pile. Since you’re probably reading a fetish story for one reason, this top post will be a quick summary of what’s to come. Just making sure you don’t waste your time before diving into the wall of text below.

My interests are more towards realistic zako: smaller groups with maybe some dudes thrown in (though the guys are not my interest). Like, the type of henchwomen and thugs you see in spy flicks, modern action movies, those sorts of things. Thus, this story is going to have such a scenario, and will aim to capture that feeling.

As for take-downs, though I can do about anything, I bias heavily towards hand-to-hand combat. This means this story will likely have more knockouts and return zako than usual. Kind of like a beat-em-up, with longer fights. I’ve prepared about twenty-five zako for that purpose, as well as a handful of easy throwaways, since they are, well, zako. The amount of Ryona content here is probably a little tamer than most of the other zako stories, though, as rape and gore are two turn-offs for me.

Finally, quick shout-out to slayer slayer for his Streets of Girls, which was a big inspiration for this story.

Well, that’s enough of my rambling. If you decided to read onward, welcome. I do hope you enjoy.



Vivacious Visitor
Sep 18, 2018


Its dark.

I can’t see.

My eyes blink open. Well, at least, I think they do. It’s hard to tell, when all they see is nothing but darkness. Is it nighttime? Am I inside? Why does my head hurt so badly?

I try my best to slur into a sort-of awake state. My initial dizziness finally subsiding to reveal my current situation. Despite the lack of vision, I feel my hands tied behind my back by some sort of thick woven rope. I’m seated on what seems to be a cheap, sturdy wooden chair. The air feels like room temperature and lacks wind.

Though, probably the worst one of all: I can’t remember anything. Nothing. Zilch. Being trapped in a scenario like this, combined with a complete lack of memory, was not one I wanted to be in for very long. I twisted my arms slightly, feeling the rope binding my wrists were slightly loose. Was that on purpose? It was hard to tell. Though, maybe if I could just get it off…


The room suddenly lit up like a camera flash, shocking my eyes and confusing my brain momentarily. A thin buzzing sound emanated across the ceiling as I finally gained the ability to look at the room I was tied up inside, after a short period of blindness. Though, the sight wasn’t a very helpful one. The room itself was a boring grey, looking to be made of some sort of steel, and lacked any defining features what-so-ever besides being a flat little cube. My chair stood firmly in the center, and the only other piece of furniture was another unassuming rectangular wooden table in the corner.

My view turned to the side, where four individuals, one man and three women, came out of a thick iron door, closing and locking it behind them. The man was thickly built, sporting a black t-shirt, sunglasses, and a buzz cut. He looked nearly double the size of any of the girls and looked like some army sergeant you saw on television.

Two of the women stood near Sergeant and didn’t feel a whole lot friendlier either. One, with stunning bright blue eyes, wore the same style of black t-shirt, together with tight, black leather pants and boots. No sunglasses, however, though I wouldn’t blame Blue there for not wanting to cover those eyes.

The other, I’ll call her Jacket, put the black leather on her jacket instead. Her shirt inside was grey, however, and her pants were just black jeans. At least the boots were the same.

As I observed the three standing by the door, the third woman began to practically skip towards the table in the corner. Her bright, white t-shirt was a huge contrast to the black outfits of the other three, as well as her cheery demeanour and overdone make-up. Miss cheery over there, however, had one very concerning, defining feature that the other three did not possess.

A revolver.

“Goooood morning!” The cheery woman greeted me, doing a little spin. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she did so, with the revolver hanging lazily by a finger, “do you remember who I am?”

“N-No,” I stuttered out, my throat a lot dryer and my nerves more shot than I had realized.

“Ah, well terrific! I suppose I must reintroduce myself, then,” the woman did a little bow, “you may address me as Solo.”

“S-Solo…?” I responded.

“Oh, just get on with it,” came an irritated Blue from the side. Solo, in turn, looked agitated, and turned her heel around to face the three guarding the door.

“Pardon me? I do not recall asking for opinions from the peanut gallery,” Solo growled.

Blue sighed, rolling her eyes, “look, whatever. Just hurry up. I hate it in here.”

Solo signed in turn, “always rush, rush, rush with you ladies! These are moments you have to savour!”

Blue leaned her face against her hand, mumbling to the side, “why do we have to protect this psycho.” Jacket only gave a look of indifference to Blue and shrugged, while Sergeant continued to stand at attention.

Though, Solo didn’t appear to have heard this comment, as she spun back around to grin widely at me.

“Sorry about that. Now, where was I…?” She mused, seemingly waiting for a response.

“You, uh, you were introducing yourself?” I answered.

“Oh yes, right, right! Yes, my name is Solo. Would you like to know why that is my name?”

I hesitated for a moment. The revolver in her hands, the ‘get on with it’ comment. Somehow, I had a feeling why I was here.

“W-Why is that your name?” I asked, nearly choking on the words. Solo responded by skipping daintily over to the table in the corner, placing the revolver on top. Removing a single bullet from seemingly nowhere, she held it up to me.

“Why, what a fantastic question! It is because I only need a single bullet to do my job,” she smiled one more time at me, shoving the bullet into the six-slotted revolver.

Yeah, I thought that was going to be the case.

I reeled back in my chair, my mind began to race. I was going to die here. Or, at least I was, if I didn’t try something. I recalled the loose bindings on the rope tying my hands together. Was I able to escape this room alive? Well, I don't know if whoever I was is capable enough to do so, but the alternative to not trying is…not a very bright one.

“Oh, you look so scared! What a delightful look,” Solo squealed, giggling a bit as she held the gun in her right hand, “do not squirm too much, it is less painful that way. Do you have any last words to say to this cruel, cruel world?”

“Y-Yeah,” I said, lowering my voice purposely. I felt the sweat beginning to build along my skin, though it would only help with the rope. Solo cocked her head to the side curiously, leaning in slightly closer to my face. The smell of her thick perfume was rather intoxicating.

“Come again? I am afraid I did not hear th-“

In one swift motion, I lifted my arms from their binding, and grabbed Solo’s right wrist, thrusting it to the side. In her panic, she discharges the revolver, the bullet blasting to the side and piercing directly through Sergeants head. The door behind him splayed with blood as he drops silently to the floor. Before Solo can recover from the shock of what she had done, my spare hand balled into a fist and drove itself directly into Solo’s soft left cheek.

“Ah-!” She cried in surprise, as her head whipped to the side. Her whole body flew to the ground front first, sprawling as she moaned in pain. The revolver leaving her grasp and scattering across the floor.

“Idiot!” Blue cried, as she and Jacket sprung into action the second the revolver went off. I tried to leap up into action as well, but in the moment and adrenaline I had failed to notice two separate pieces of rope tying both my legs to two legs of the chair. The result was a faceplant directly forwards, my chest slamming into the legs of Solo’s writhing body.

“Should we find another weapon?” Jacket asked quickly, only for Blue to respond by kicking me directly in the ribs. It hurt.

“Just beat him to death, for Gods sake!” Blue yelled back, delivering another kick.

With the chair still attached to my legs, I swung the chair towards the two women with all the strength I could muster from my position on the ground. Being taken by surprise, Blue reeled as the chair slammed into the left of her torso, releasing a cry from her lips as she slammed in turn against Jacket next to her. The impact sending Blue against the floor. Jacket slammed her head against the wall, her back colliding against it afterwards before she slowly slid down in unconsciousness.

I moved immediately to the rope against my legs, now noticing that the knots tying these were also slightly loose. Thankfully, these did not take very long to untie, but Blue suddenly caught me by surprise. The rope which used to bind my wrists now wrapped itself around my neck as I untied the last bind against my leg. My body was jerked backwards from the rope, falling closer to Blue’s body as she tugged.

“Don’t…struggle-!” She grunted, her hands gripping the rope tightly. My neck continued to be strangled. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. I kept thrashing my body, desperate to free myself from her grip. Nearby, Solo’s body had went still, splayed on the ground front first. Jacket was the same, with her unconscious body lying along the edge of the wall. Both their breathing slow and quiet.

I punched behind me as hard as I could, and by some luck my fist met a pair of lips. Blue’s head recoiled backwards, her grip loosening just enough for me to pull the rope free from her grasp.

Leaping to my feet, I managed to turn just in time to catch Blue making a desperate lunge at the rope loosely hanging from my neck as she stood. Instead of the rope, her chest caught my fist, throwing her whole body backwards once more. Her face seemed dazed as I laid another punch directly against her gut.

Blue moaned, clutching her midriff with both hands as I removed the rope from my neck. I kneed her pained face, whipping her body straight up, and wrapped the rope around her neck.

“Kha-,” her surprised gasp barely left her lips as the rope pulled tighter and tighter around her neck. Her vivid, beautiful blue eyes looked at me in shock and terror. A brief, silent plea while her hands scratched weakly at the rope around her neck. I almost let up.


A cracking sound echoed through the room at the same time as an odd, metallic one, as Blue’s body went limp. Her shocked eyes never closed, as her weak body rag-dolled onto the floor. Her cool blue eyes now stared blankly at nothing, up into the air, as her body relaxed and stretched out. Her laid out head just inches away from Solo’s, though at least one of them was still breathing.

I dropped to the ground in turn, though only to my knees, as the adrenaline slowly subsided.

Clap. Clap.

My heart nearly jumped to the top of my throat. A slow clapping sounded from behind me. My exhaustion subsided immediately, as I leapt to my feet and turned to face the sound, now realizing that the metallic sound moments ago was likely the iron door. What met me was a new, red haired woman, standing in front of the door. Her head was cocked upwards slightly, and her neat clothes and prim demeanour clashed heinously against the splay of blood along the wall behind her.

“Well done, well done! I must say, I think I missed a rather entertaining party in here,” the woman laughed, seemingly completely unfazed by the fact that there were two dead bodies in this room.

“W-Who are you,” I asked wearily, ready to fight at any moment.

“Melody,” she responded, “I’d ask for yours back but, ah, I suppose you don’t really know, do you?” Her mocking tone grating against my ears.

I gritted my teeth, assuming a fighting stance. I had already defeated the four people in this room, what was this woman going to do to me? The thought crossed through my mind, but from her cocky attitude, Melody didn’t look very concerned about her wellbeing.

“Right, right, you want to fight. Of course,” she rolled her eyes mockingly at me, before giving a little smirk, “I was hoping you would. I was always rather curious if you were really as good as they say.”

Melody took a step towards me. Her body still completely relaxed.

“So, don’t disappoint me, ‘kay?” She giggled.

Yeah, I’ve already had it with her. I took an aggressive step forward, driving my right fist forwards directly towards her face. Melody’s lax stance never let up, as she casually turned her body to dodge my strike.

I didn’t let up either, delivering another punch with my left fist. Then, with my right again, then my left again. But, with each attack, Melody continued to twist and deflect my punches with little effort. Her body deftly weaving around each continued attempt at knocking her out. I must have lost myself in the frustration because a sudden kick had found its way to my gut. The strength of it sending me recoiling backwards, as Melody only stood back, giggling.

“My my, what a brute! Coming at a poor defenseless woman so suddenly, I’m in shock,” Melody teased in mock surprise, giggling behind a light hand placed against her mouth. She certainly looked like she was out of place, but her strength wasn’t. While I felt decently fit, I wasn’t too strong, and still suffered weakness from the earlier headaches. Her arms were capable of swatting and deflecting my messy flurry of attacks like nothing.

I brought back my fighting stance, glaring at her wearily, trying to find some kind of opening I could take. Perhaps trying something a bit lower? I went in with a low sweeping kick, only for Melody to leap over it by backflipping over it. Her feet knocking my chin upwards in her spin, before landing gracefully. Immediately, Melody delivered another horizontal kick against my chest, knocking me backwards and against the wall. I slammed against the wall, weakened, but still barely standing. Melody didn’t seem to have even broken a sweat.

“Is that all? Honestly, I’m rather disappointed,” Melody put her hands on her hips, sighing.

“B-Bitch,” I spat out, breathing heavily.

“Mmhmm, that’s me,” Melody smiled, speaking with a cutesy voice, “sooooo, ready to die now? We may as well end it.”

“I’ll take a pass on that,” I growled through my teeth, though I was running out of options quickly. Melody took a dainty step, then another, before tumbling in a cartwheel towards me. I stepped out of the way quickly, but Melody was just as fast, punching at my face as soon as she landed on her feet again. I managed to block the first punch and subsequent kicks and delivered an easily negated response. But this back and forth didn’t last long, before another punch was landed against my chest, sending me backwards.

Melody gave a high kick against the side of my head as I recoiled, sending me sprawling to the floor. I rolled for a moment, and as I did, I noticed something on the floor. The revolver, still centimetres away from Solo’s unconscious grasp. Melody’s overconfident demeanour had never really faded, but she definitely seemed to be a lot more in the moment now.

Without even thinking whether a plan like this would work, I made a dive for the gun. Melody’s gaze shifted to the spot I was diving for, and her eyes went wide. Her focus on the revolver, she made a short sprint towards the weapon on the floor. Her trajectory, from my eyes, seemed intent on kicking the gun away.

But I didn’t care about the gun. I lunged out, grabbing Melody’s leg as she focused on kicking the revolver. A surprised gasp left her lips, before her imbalance sent her tripping forwards onto the floor.

Melody panicked, yanking her foot from my grasp and tried turning the momentum into another frontal flip. However, I wasn’t about to let this opening escape me. I kicked my legs against the floor, rushing forwards before Melody recovered from her flip, and tackled her back.

“A-Agh-!” She cried, as I carried my momentum by shoving Melody directly into the wall. A pained moan sounding as her chin slammed into the wall.

I pinned her head against the wall, pulling it back and slamming it once, twice, three times. Her strength against my grip slowly felt like it began to loosen. I didn’t let up, grabbing her upper torso and slamming Melody’s body against the ground, hard.

Melody moaned on the ground in a daze, struggling to even get up into a crawling position. In her sight, however, was the revolver right beside her hands, and in a desperate last attempt, Melody dove for the revolver and immediately turned it towards me.


Her eyes could barely focus on the revolver in her hands as she looked down at it, confused. Though, despite her condition, it did seem like she finally realized.

“Solo only needs one bullet,” I smirked, standing high above her.

“…P-Please, don’t,” Melody looked up towards me, her shattered confidence on display. I merely just shrugged.

“Nothing personal, lady,” I said, before delivering a hard upwards kick against her chin. Melody’s head lurched backwards, the rest of her body following suit, as she flew backwards with a little whimper. Her body landed face up against the floor, her eyes closed, and her head rolled to the side. Her hands relaxing, releasing their grip on the gun as her arms relaxed outstretched to the sides. A slight bit of breathing from her chest suggested that she was only unconscious.

I had several thoughts past through my mind. You should finish her off, one said. You need to take a rest, another spoke. I ignored both. It felt wrong to kill an already defeated opponent, and I had to leave before someone else found these bodies in the room. Perhaps it may kill me later, when they awake, but oddly enough, despite my strong frontal feelings of fear, I had a deep-seated feeling of confidence inside. Like I could escape with no issue even after leaving the survivors alive.

Geez, who was I, anyway?

There wasn’t time to dwell. I snatched the empty revolver from the floor and made my way to the closed iron door.

It was time to see what awaited me.

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Vivacious Visitor
Sep 18, 2018

The door opened to another darkened hallway, with nothing but my door and a small flight of stairs leading upwards. Above, all I could see was a ceiling made up of thick, steel pipes. And, once I climbed to the top, it seemed like that was all the walls were made up of too. Steel pipes of varying sizes and lengths, zig-zagging every which way, connected in all places, and circling around a metallic catwalk that seemed to twist, veer, and split in random directions. The sound of rushing water from the pipes suggested a kind of basement sewage area, but it could really be anything.

I ducked out of my hallway into the catwalk, sneaking around as best as I could to the nearest corner to take a better look around the rather expansive area. Though the guards out here followed the trend of lacking any friendliness what-so-ever, this dungeon/prison/sewage area also seemed to lack any coherence either. Guards lacked similar uniforms and ranged from grizzled fighters to looking like they were picked from the nearest college. In addition, this place didn’t seem to like guns very much, as most guards only carried singular, handheld pistols on their belt, and some didn’t even have one at all. Better for me, but still.

“Uhm, excuse me?”

My skin nearly jumped off at the female voice behind me, as I leapt from my position and bolted. Walking as fast as I could, I weaved in and out the paths at random, ducking and praying that I didn’t run into another guard. The clomping sound of boots on metal sounded with moderate pace behind me, as my pursuer followed at an unknown distance. It was hard to tell with all the sounds of rushing water and random other metallic clomps of other guards in the area.

I finally stopped by a darkened corner off the catwalk and leapt off, hugging the wall as I hid myself into the dark. I was dead if anyone had found me, but the position provided ample cover.

Eventually my pursuer finally revealed herself: an attractive, young woman with moderate length light brown hair, a white tank top, and blue denim shorts, cut halfway along her thighs. Her features were so soft and delicate, I was almost tempted to leap out and enquire about directions, but her hand positioned near a gun on her waist made me rescind that thought.

She walked past my position, giving myself an inner sigh of relief, but soon returned to the area, scratching her head. Frowning with her hands on her hip, she sighed deeply before another girl walked up and tapped her shoulder, causing the soft girl to give a startled yelp. The new, incredibly flashy girl, seemed completely unfazed by the reaction.

“Christ, Kaylee, the hell you doing?” The flashy woman asked, her hands on her hips with a cellphone in one.

And when I say flashy, I mean boy, this one looks like she walked straight out of a Paris fashion show, with her vertical striped crop top, matching pants and black beret. If there was ever a walking embodiment of ‘not ready for combat’, it would be this woman. Or maybe ‘unenthused at her job’, because that’d probably fit too.

“O-Olivia you scared me,” Kaylee responded, clutching her hands against her chest.

“What, were you expecting the boogieman?” Olivia mocked, unamused by Kaylee’s behaviour.

“N-No, I-I, I mean I thought I saw someone earlier,” was Kaylee’s still nervous reply.

“Right, and where is this someone?”

“Well I lost them,” Kaylee’s head fell, dejected. Olivia only rolled her eyes, punching something in her phone with one hand for a second before speaking.

“Yeesh, hoped you could’ve been more normal than those other two,” Olivia said.

“W-Which other two?”

“Gracie and the ‘floor manager’,” Olivia spoke, air quoting the floor manager part, “look just go scurry off and patrol somewhere else so Sierra doesn’t cap your scared face out of anger.”


Kaylee didn’t get her answer before loud stomps and a louder pair of voices came into hearing range. At what I assumed was the sight of the two individuals in question stomping down the catwalk, Kaylee ducked and swiftly walked off in another direction.

“I’m saying its for safety, that’s all! What is even wrong with you?” One woman yelled, waving her arms as she walked beside the other woman. The woman wore a professional blend of practicality and sexual appeal, sporting a black sweater cut to reveal an open midriff, and tight jeans. Her voice, despite being rather angry at the moment, also possessed a slight British accent, and was rather pleasant to hear.

The other woman suddenly stopped in place, turning towards her arguing pair and shoved a finger into her chest, “don’t you think that I don’t know what you’re up to, Gracie,” Sierra growled, at least assuming that was her name based off the earlier conversation. Sierra’s height towered way over Gracie, bending down with her scooped neck top in a very intimidating fashion. Gracie, despite her weaker stature, didn’t seem at all fazed.

“What I’m up to?!” Gracie gave a flabbergasted wave, “look, you bloody moron, if Melody actually disappeared in that room and Nadiya, or whatever she’s calling herself now- “

“Solo,” Olivia interrupted with a monotone response.

“Fine, Solo, whatever. Look, they are taking way too long. Don’t you think that area is incredibly dangerous considering who we are dealing with?”

Sierra smirked, laughing quietly before it roared into something much louder, causing Gracie to flinch. After her moment, Sierra’s shoved finger turned into a hard shove, causing Gracie to stumble backwards.

“You think I don’t know that?! Hah, listen here, little girl. I have the only real gun down here,” Sierra removed what seemed like either a machine pistol or an Uzi from her belt, taunting Gracie with the weapon, “you think I’m scared of some hyped-up weakling like him, escaping from a room with no real weapons?”

“I-I’m not saying we should run, I’m just saying we should bring a group!” Gracie continued to argue, but Sierra just laughed again.

“A group to do what, slow me down? The boss will pay me generously for delivering his head to him alone. The glory is mine alone, dear.”

“Your...glory? You can’t be serious.”

“And if you continue to stall me out here, I’ll just shove a bullet or two into your sweet little chest,” Sierra shoved the gun into Gracie, causing her to wince, “nobody will care about you after I bring his head to the boss. You understand, don’t you?”

Gracie finally lost her fire, taking a feeble step backwards, “you are insane.”

“No, no,” Sierra holstered her gun back again, turning around, “you are just a coward,” she mocked before walking away. Gracie stared in her direction for a moment, before looking over to Olivia, who never seemed to have put her phone down at any point during that fight.

“You agree with me, right?” Gracie asked, still flabbergasted. Olivia sighed, putting her phone in her pocket slowly before looking up.

“Well if anyone can take that guy down if he really did escape, its Sierra. Now, can you shut up for a bit?” Olivia then, too, turned and walked away in a different direction, leaving Gracie alone right in front of me. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised nobody had noticed me wedged right beside them, but I suppose they were preoccupied.

I had already processed a bit of their conversation, but the alarm bells were already sounding within my head. Melody, the red-haired woman that came in later on, was mentioned, as well as the rather eccentric executer Solo, or, I guess Nadiya was her real name. I saw numerous other dead-end hallways on the way here, leading me to believe there had to be other rooms, or potentially jail cells, but I was fairly sure that the prisoner in question that Sierra had left to investigate was me.

There was no time left; I needed to escape this area now, before Sierra discovered a room filled with nothing but dead and unconscious bodies. Considering the possibility of an organization, there was likely some kind of emergency system. Those walkie-talkies on everyone’s belts surely wasn’t just for show.

I still had no real weapon, and Gracie still stood near where I had to walk out to leave this hidden spot within the tangled pipes. She seemed like a nice person, but I had to dispatch her somehow, and retrieve the gun on her belt. A sneak attack could work, but the catwalk was incredibly loud despite the sounds of rushing water all around masking it, and Gracie could definitely be a very capable fighter despite her slim appearance. But I had to try something.

I moved my body, leaping out of my hiding spot as quietly as possible and drew my empty revolver. Upon taking a few silent steps towards Gracie’s still body, she turned her head in my direction, only for her eyes to go wide.

And thank God I didn’t try the sneak attack.

“Its you…” She mouthed in awe.

“Hands on your head. No sudden movements,” I whispered swiftly. Gracie complied with the order. Her face filled with fear as she alternated between staring at my face and the empty revolver in her hand.

“J-Just don’t shoot,” she stuttered.

“I’m the one deciding that, not you,” was my curt response, “now, where am I?”

“You…don’t remember?” Gracie asked, a tinge of confusion entering her timid voice.

“Am I supposed to?”

Gracie swallowed, her voice dry when she spoke again, “s-so it really worked.”

“What worked?!” I raised my voice by accident, causing Gracie to wince. If the revolver actually worked, I was tempted to discharge it near her head just to scare her.

“I-I’m sorry, p-please don’t,” Gracie stuttered again, begging at me. The fire I once saw just moments ago now a distant memory.

I took a breath, calming myself down before continuing, “where is the exit?”

Gracie hesitated a moment before speaking, “t-take the north elevators down that way, it should buy you some time,” she answered, moving one hand momentarily to point in a direction before placing it back on her head.

“Buy me some time? I’m not interested in time, I’m interested in getting the hell out of this place.”

“No fugitive can escape this. Not even you.”

My heart beat into my ears. Her soft voice rang into my ears not because I thought she was mocking me or lying to spare her life. But because her words sounded like what she truly believed, despite being the person she thought I was.

The conversation had stretched too long. A pair of torn white pants was spotted strolling slowly up the catwalk she had walked down earlier. I rushed immediately towards Gracie, seizing her neck with my left arm and turning her body around, pressing the revolver against the side of her head while I held her with my left. Gracie yelped in terror as I grabbed her, almost surprised by the action until she noticed why I did.

“Seems like you saved me the trouble of coming to find you,” Sierra taunted, turning the corner with her hands confidently on her hips.

“How the hell did you come back so fast?” I glared at the intimidating woman, before I heard a whistle from yet another different direction. Olivia stepped up smiling as well, a walkie-talkie in her hands. I glared in her direction as well, thankful she didn’t have her own gun on her belt. There were just too many different directions in this area, and I had backed up into yet another one.

“I assumed you could handle this one better than me, Sierra,” Olivia spoke towards the other woman.

“Of course, was there any doubt?” Sierra smiled, taking a step forward. I shoved the revolver deeper into Gracie’s head.

“Not another damn step-!” I cried, my heart pumping wildly. And, in that faint second, I saw Sierra’s smile grow even wider.

I knew exactly what she thought of Gracie.

“Just business, dear,” Sierra teased.

“Get down!” I cried, throwing both Gracie and me to the side, falling behind cover as Sierra drew her Uzi and fired in the position we were in. Landing on Gracie’s body, I was able to stand up quickly, noticing a surprised Olivia to the side attempt to spring into action.

Before she could even take two steps, I whipped the empty revolver at her head. The weapon spinning horizontally through the air like a shuriken before it slapped against her forehead with a loud thwap! Olivia’s head whipped backwards, the mixed beauty stumbled backwards slightly, her eyes fluttering before she fell backwards. Her body slammed into the catwalk, arms falling outstretched, as her eyes shut into unconsciousness. The beret tipping just off her head after a moment.

I quickly moved my now free hand to remove Gracie’s pistol off her hip, and immediately fired two shots in Sierra’s direction, just before she rounded the corner. The woman gasped, backing away behind the nearest pipe, not seeming to have been hit by either bullet.

“Nngh…agh…” Gracie moaned the floor, still lying on her front. With little strength, she moved both her arms in an attempt to push herself upwards.

I hesitated for a moment, before whispering, “thanks for your help.” My next move was then a hard backhand against her cheek.

“Ah-!” She cried as her head whipped to the side from the impact. The last of her strength giving away, Gracie’s arms gave out, sending her falling softly back down onto the catwalk. Her cheek slammed into the ground, before her head came to a rest against the metallic floor.

I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could, firing another two random shots in Sierra’s vague direction before sprinting off as fast as I could. I followed Gracie’s direction towards these northern elevators, taking random turns to not get clipped from the back.

But she wasn’t my only issue. There didn’t seem to be a massive alarm, blazing along the ceiling to signal an emergency, but I could tell that every guard still around on the floor was alerted to the situation. Though the random paths I was weaving through and the pipes surrounding me made me relatively safe to stray bullets, it was still a danger I had to consider.

A male guard darted out from the corner of my sight, and my body lifted the gun on instinct, needing only a single bullet to the head to send the man crashing to the ground. I didn’t stop my pace, still dashing randomly as I fired, clipping another guard to the head as he tried to step in front of me. It seemed like not all the guards had guns, but I couldn’t drop my concentration because of that. Another bullet struck the pipe near my arm, causing me to spin around and shoot a third guard through the chest before I continued on my way.

I eventually reached what appeared to be a solid wall behind a few pipes, stretching for some distance. It was difficult to avoid being shot here, but I estimated that the elevators had to be somewhere along this area.

Before I could dash in a direction, though, I skidded to a halt. The soft faced girl from earlier, Kaylee, had walked straight in front of me. Her face looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I hesitated for a second like her, but her arm had already reached for the gun on her holster.

Unfortunately, mine was already drawn. One bullet directly placed at her heart. The shot pierced her white top, dirtying it with red splashes as Kaylee’s look turned slowly into wide shock. Her mouth fell open, blankly staring at me as her body slowly fell over backwards. Like many others before her, her eyes never shut as her gun clattered to the floor.

She seemed like a nice person, but it was time to move. I walked over her dead body, trying to find where the elevators were, praying silently that Gracie had told the truth.

But I moved too slow. Someone had caught up to my position, tackling me from the side. I flew into the wall, smashing into one pipe before being forcefully thrown to the ground. The back of my head slammed into the catwalk as I struggled to keep my strength up. The smell of blood still lingered from Kaylee’s body just meters away.

My attacker was an African American woman, who’s size and height rivaled that of Sierra’s earlier, and was dressed almost like a dancer. She wore a loose fitting, long sleeved blue crop top and grey pants. The looseness of the top was certainly one of the more revealing outfits I’ve seen on a guard.

A massive punch to the face stopped any further thoughts along that route, as I desperately began trying to block the dancer’s barrage of punches as she sat on top of my body. Her opponent caught on the floor, her fight plan seemed to be a full-on assault, as she continued to desperately wail random punches at my head. The first opportunity finally presented itself, as I managed to shield two of her punches with just my left arm. Taking my right, I nailed a punch upwards directly into her face, releasing a cry from her mouth as she flew sideways off my body.

I immediately tackled and pinned her body to the floor as she rolled, her face now staring directly up at mine. Though, unlike her, I was able to land another punch much quicker against her beautiful face. With each continued punch, another cry, as the dancer was stunned and unable to defend herself further. Within moments since my assault began, the woman shut her eyes, her head rolling over to the side in an unconscious state.

Bullets sprayed the pipes nearby, as I rolled off the woman’s body and took the nearest cover. I tried to peek a little, only to be met with a shower of sparks. The attack too close to my head for my liking.

“Why don’t you just give up? We both know how this is going to end,” Sierra’s voice shouted from past my vision. I returned a shot in the direction of her voice, causing her to duck behind her own pipe. I took the opportunity to take cover slightly closer to her position, which I managed to briefly ascertain as I moved. The distance wasn’t far.

Sierra opened fire, a spray of bullets splashing near the area I once was as I heard footsteps moving against the metal floor. I stuck out once the barrage ended, firing another two bullets indiscriminately as I inched forward to the next form of cover again.

It was close enough. Sierra’s spot was right on the other side of the pipe I had ran up to.

I raised my gun, but her reflexes were fast. She pushed the gun as I fired, the bullet just narrowly missing her head as she aimed her own Uzi at my head. I grabbed it, the Uzi firing past my shoulder and slamming into a guard that had just come around the corner behind me. As I tried to force the Uzi away from my head, Sierra did the same with her other hand, grabbing my hand with the pistol and holding it away from herself. We locked in a brief awkward standoff, her arms splayed wide as were mine.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sierra suddenly asked, her face close to mine.

“W-What?” Her comment caught me off guard, like the hard punch from her right fist against my face. Sierra took the risk, dropping her grip of the Uzi to my grasp as she punched me hard in the chest this time. The impact of both attacks sending me stumbling backwards. Both guns fell loose of my grasp, clattering to the floor and bouncing off the side, where no practical method could retrieve them.

I scrambled up a shaky defense against Sierra’s flurry of punches, but the effort was futile as Sierra cracked the defense as easily as opening a door. Her punches and attacks were much slower and straightforward than the others I had faced already, but Sierra was easily the strongest of them all. Not only that, but her height even matched mine, making it easier to land a fist against my face.

I continued to stumble backwards, my arms aching in the wake of Sierra’s constant beatdown. I even broke defense for a moment to land a sudden kick against her left thigh, hoping it would break her pace, but Sierra shrugged off the successful strike against her. I took another punch, and another, and an occasional kick to break my defense before I found my consciousness beginning to dizzy and cloud.

Suddenly, I found myself on my back. It hurt, and my vision stirred, clearing only long enough to notice Sierra unsheathing a knife from her belt. She gave a triumphant smile, standing above my battered body, before she plunged the knife directly downwards.

The blade stopped just centimeters from my forehead. A killer instinct shooting my tired arms up to catch her fists balled around the knifes handle as she continued to press the weapon down. I forced all the strength I had into keeping that blade away from my face, but Sierra’s strength was above mine.

Gritting her teeth above me, her part strained part excited expression continued to be burned into my eyes as the knife drew further down.

Slowly and slowly, the knife fell lower and lower.

I was losing strength. And soon, this battle.


A small bit of blood splashed against my face, as one side of Sierra’s strength let up. A bullet had been fired from the side, piercing through Sierra’s right shoulder and leaving a massive wound. She looked up in panic, narrowing her eyes at the shooter behind me.

“Just business, dear,” the shooter mocked.

Now with Sierra’s right arm weakened, I pushed the knife up and away. Her whole body rolled off from mine in the same motion. As she fell off, the knife in turn also dropped from her grasp.

The woman growled, trying to punch me with her left fist, but I now had a clear target. I deflected the attack, retaliating at her numbed right shoulder. The blow against it causing a howl of pain from the woman. I pushed forward, laying a kick against her stomach as she clutched her pained shoulder, followed by repeated jabs across her face.

One after another.

Sierra stumbled backwards, dazed, as I quickly reached down for the knife. Sierra let loose a frustrated growl, and with fury in her eyes, she lunged at me as I was straightening back up.

The knife was already in my hands. Instead of grabbing my neck, the center of Sierra’s chest instead found the blade of her own knife, plunged deep inside.

“G-Gah,” she gasped, her mouth hanging agape as she staggered backwards. Her hands moved around where the knife blade impaled her, her eyes blinking at the wound in shock.

“Enjoy this glory,” I said before delivering my last punch to the face against my opponent. Her body tipped backwards, slamming and spreading across the floor. The knifes handle pointed up to the ceiling as she came to a rest. Trickles of blood leaked out her lifeless lips as her dead eyes shut.

“Guess we’re even now,” the voice behind me spoke again. I turned around to meet Gracie’s grin. The bottom of her cheek still slightly red from where I had hit her earlier.

“Thanks, I-“ I started, taking a step towards her before she pulled the gun out suddenly at me. My heart jumped in fear.

“Stop that. I’m still one of them, alright? Now run, the elevator is down that way,” Gracie gestured over to a cut-out along the wall, close to our position. I wanted to thank her, I really did, but as if reading my expression, her eyes softened a tad, “hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m going to kill you next time we meet, get it? If you go that soft, you’re going to die.”

I wanted an ally so badly, but this wasn’t the time. Without another word, I took off in a sprint towards the hallway. Behind me, a shot rang out, harmlessly whizzing by me and imbedding harmlessly in the wall ahead of me. Several more shots followed suit.

“Prisoner one has escaped to the north elevators. I repeat, prisoner one is at the northern elevators,” I could hear her call out behind me. I dug my feet into the metal floor deeper and ran all the breath I had remaining out.

The elevators appeared clearly in front of me once I turned the corner. Five different elevators, laid side-by-side, in a rather ornate metallic square opening at the end of the short hallway. I dashed up, slamming the up button as I reached the wall. More shots continued to ring out uselessly behind me, but now I heard further footsteps begin to grow louder and louder.

But the elevators didn’t hear my silent prayers. I cursed under my breath, backing up to a lip in the wall where the elevator room began. I saw Gracie take cover on the entrance to the hallway, reloading her gun as she shouted at the incoming guards.

“He’s reloading in there, charge his position!” She shouted the obvious lie, causing the sounds of running footsteps. I thanked her internally again for bluffing the other guards into forcing me into a fighting chance. Did that mean I was back to owing her? It was really hard to tell where her help ended, exactly.

I lashed a fist out at the first footstep to reach me, which happened to be a poor male guard. The man was struck directly in the front of his neck, and he dropped immediately. The gun in his hand clattered to the ground. I dove for the weapon, rolling upwards as I snatched it, and quickly unloaded into the hallway at random. Two more guards behind the first man were struck repeatedly, their bodies flailing as they dropped in a hail of blood. Whatever scattered remnants behind them ducked for cover back in the pipe room, in fear of retaliation.

Ding! Went the elevator, and the one directly in the center opened wide. Of course, it was the one in the center. I practically leapt through the elevator doors, slamming any random button inside as I pushed myself as close as I could to the sides of the elevator.

I shut my eyes, hearing the bullets barely whizzing past my body. Listening to the clacking of footsteps against a metal floor once more. Praying that the elevator door would just close.

And as the first guard just passed through the hallway, the doors shut.



Vivacious Visitor
Aug 10, 2014
Appreciate that the zakos have rivalries and different morals. Are some of them in this fight against their will? The way you write makes me want to see the good ones escape in the end. If the hero must fight Gracie again, will he try to save her? Will he at least kill her painlessly, and give her a last kiss?


Vivacious Visitor
Sep 18, 2018
Appreciate that the zakos have rivalries and different morals. Are some of them in this fight against their will? The way you write makes me want to see the good ones escape in the end. If the hero must fight Gracie again, will he try to save her? Will he at least kill her painlessly, and give her a last kiss?
I've always been fascinated by thinking about the backstories of the random henchwoman that appear in media, so it certainly was fun to flesh them out a tad. I think there may be more 'good zako' in the future, but I do enjoy off-ing them as well. Nobody is safe here.

As for your questions, well, you'll just have to find out.
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