Fallen Seven

About the Author

Raphael is a young upcoming author in a small country town in Australia; who enjoys writing and spending time with her pets. Raphael enjoys learning every day and is always willing to try new things. She loves learning about different cultures and languages as well as their histories; especially Roman and Greek.

Dedication

To my favourite aspiration, Beanstalk, and the best little brother a girl can have.

You've been there for me and have always supported me.

Thanks.

Copyright Information ©

Raphael Fae 2022

The right of Raphael Fae to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398411807 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398411814 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Austin Macauley Publishers for making this little dream of mine come true.

I would like to thank all of those peers and colleagues who encouraged and supported me.

Chapter 1

3 years ago

The chase was the best part of the Game.

Not telling the people who I was chasing, that they owed their soul to higher forces. Not returning to my Mentor and not going back to the huge white windowless door-less building that people called my home. With the people that talked shit about me to my face.

P-pl-please…let me g-g-go.

I looked at my target, who was about five steps ahead of me with his eyes darkened in shock and horror.

I couldn’t believe he was so pathetic. I raised an eyebrow. I p-p-promise I w-won’t s-s-say a-any-anything, the guy begged.

I promptly gave him a calm smile. I asked him what he was going to do.

I’ll ch-change my n-name a-and m-move to another c-count-country.

The words were ones he’d tossed over his shoulder as he moved as fast as his legs would take him.

If I wanted to, I would’ve outrun him. And I would, just not right now. Not until I got tired of the Game.

Snivelling, grovelling, pathetic mortal males who can’t keep their dicks in their pants aren’t allowed to go free.

That really got the mortal to look at me. The guy was panting and glaring at me. I dropped into a walk, strolling towards my target.

Your Master deserved it. In fact, he deserved a lot worse than the few orgasms he got from me. They were simply a bonus.

I came to a stop in front of him and smiled warmly at him. Then I promptly shoved my boot into his knee. He collapsed.

You should’ve read the fine print, darling. It states your life was payment for what you gave him. And those orgasms of yours were just a bonus.

Then I lifted his head so that he could see me. His eyes were filled with shock, horror and sin. Not that it affected me in any way shape or form.

And the one called my ‘Master’ doesn’t like men and even if he did, he’d be into more exotic than you. So, I know you’re lying to me.

Then I took my gun from my jacket and pressed my gun to his forehead. Then I pulled the trigger.

The silencer stopped the gun from making a sound, but the mortal’s body dropped to the ground. I slid my weapon back into place and turned on my heel.

I didn’t bother to pick up the body. Someone would find it eventually. I headed back the way I came.

It was at this point I realised something.

Everyone was watching me as I walked down the streets. I strode through the streets, my head high and gait confident.

People gaped at me as I walked past them. And I knew why they gaped. I knew what I looked like, what they stared at. The deadly beauty that was portrayed before them.

Me.

I walked with a confidence that attracted attention. I held my head high in a way which demanded it.

My eyes held the dead look that was blocked by my sunglasses. My hair was tied into a neat little bun.

Then it was hidden by a blond wig. This wig portrayed a short, sharp edged look that suited the attention I wanted to be brought to me.

Which is why I dressed for attention. In a nice little politician suit. A black leather corset, matching with my beautiful black jacket and a dark leather miniskirt.

All this brought attention back to the silky bronzed legs of mine that seemed to go on for miles. And the black leather calf-length wedge boots that seemed to paint my feet and make me about three inches taller.

And my true hair would fall back over my shoulders and down my back in a braid. It caught everyone’s eyes without detracting from anything.

But what they didn’t know was what they couldn’t see. Like the weapons that were hidden beneath my skirt, or in my jacket.

The knife in its sheath on my thigh. There were knives hidden in my boots. The gun hidden along the curve of my back.

In the jacket was an extravagant number of weapons. It held a pouch, a range of guns and a rack of knives.

In the pouch was a bunch of small cylindrical balls, like marbles. They all had different colours, different effects. But it didn’t matter.

None of that mattered.

All that mattered was getting back to home. Or the place I called home. It wasn’t exactly a home, more like a place to stay until I could leave. My phone vibrated in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, looking at the message.

We got another mission, Sis. Come pick me up.

I made it back to the pod to take me back to the UTS. I input the coordinates and watched as the doors closed.

Then I took a seat in one of the dozens of seats at the centre of the pod. I stared at the side, towards the doors.

Everything went black.

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder.

Rowan.

It was my twin, my dearest family member. But his eyes were worried. I gave him a soft smile and he returned it.

Then I sighed. We had another mission to do yet. And this one would likely go for the rest of the day. Meaning we’d skip my birthday.

Being twelve sucked.

No one had said anything to me about it. Not any of my family either. I mean, even my twin hadn’t said it to me.

And it was his birthday too, so why hadn’t he at least said it. I’d already said it to him. While it wasn’t surprising, it wasn’t exactly pleasing either. I mean, they were my family for Pete’s sake.

I sighed as I watched the pod doors slid close automatically.

You okay? Did you have a bad dream? I turned to face my twin. I nodded at him, giving him a wide smile.

Perfectly fine, brother mine. Just fell asleep after the pod took off. I must’ve been tired, I announced. Rowan nodded.

But then the pod doors opened and we were still at the UTS. I blinked, confused. Rowan took my hand, pulling me to my feet.

He gave me a mischievous grin as he dragged me through the halls. Then Rowan put his hands over my eyes.

I couldn’t help but sigh.

Now I knew what was going on. They’d thrown me a ‘surprise’ party.

In someplace they didn’t want me to know about until after they were ready for me to see it. In other words, until they had finally set everything up. I kept my face neutral until I knew no one else was around.

Then I grinned. A surprise party? I asked. Rowan sighed, removing his hands from over my eyes. His face was a little upset.

Probably more to the fact that I’d guessed the truth already.

No. Your Mentor insisted we did something for you. And we’re doing it. I frowned.

My Mentor was a serious, strict man.

He was also gay.

And he had this thing for whips and knives. So I couldn’t image him doing anything that would benefit me. Unless he was giving me weapons.

Then the doors opened and my Mentor gave me an ugly smile. One that suited his face, the scars and wounds marring his face.

Fledgling.

I flinched at the loud, harsh baritone which belonged to my Mentor. I gave him a warm smile as he stepped forwards to embrace me.

I allowed him to hug me, which was a rare occurrence. But when I smelt the alcohol on his breath, it made sense.

He was drunk off his arse.

You are looking beautiful today, Little Princess, he announced to me. I sighed, stepping away from him. Then I stepped back to talk to Rowan.

I thought we had a case.

Rowan chuckled, throwing his arm around my shoulders as we walked around the crowd of people. He dropped his head so that he could whisper in my ear as we worked our way around the crowd.

We do, but our dear Mentor has the case. So, we need to get it off him. Not that I haven’t already taken from his pocket.

I smirked at my brother as we started back around the room towards the door. We headed back to the pod, strapping in and looking at the case.

But I blacked out.

Gunshots moving through the air, booming in my ears. The blood on my hands as I returned to a pod.

The dried tears on my face that had been from not even an hour ago. The knowledge of the fact that this bloodshed on my hands was for a good reason.

When I arrived at the UTS, I stepped out of the pod and headed straight for my quarters. But then everything went dark again.

The next thing I knew, people were surrounding me; holding me down. I frowned up at everyone else, who stared down at me in, seemingly, shock. But then it was over and it didn’t happen again.

Chapter 2

Present Day

My job was an interesting one, in a gruesomely amusing way.

Not that I cared for anything but my own amusement.

And one of the most dangerous occupations this place could have. I was the last trainer you saw before you were executed. I was the last line of sanity for the trainees who came through the area. Of course, the executioner was the last person they saw.

Unless they were put in the chamber instead.

Then the last thing you saw was a titanium wall stained with the dried blood of many others before them. I’d been in there before. It was a mess. But I wasn’t allowed to clean any of it off.

Tragedy.

On top of that gruesome job, I occasionally trained actual people before they were forced to be killed or to kill others. That was one of the hardest parts of my job. I hated talking to people.

But when your job is to pull people who seem impossible to train into line it’s tough to not get attention for it. When people find out you can train others no one questions it. But then your boss demands you to do it more often. Not likely.

There was only so much human contact, one could stand before they wanted to scream. Yet in a facility where you had rarely anyone to pull in line you were left to sit alone and do things to fill your time. Which I liked.

After a while it had also taught me patience. I’d read every book in the Branch’s library. I’d listened to all the current music. I’d watched every movie available to the UTS. I’d gone through and made renovations to every room on this level and the next.

The only place I wasn’t allowed to change was Razael’s office and his chambers. Even though I had dozens of plans for it, Razael refused to look at any of the ideas I’d given him. He was a spoilsport.

But at the moment, I was focusing on my own chambers. And getting the paints and other necessary materials for said chambers.

Five years’ worth of trainees hadn’t needed me to help them be trained. It was amusing to watch the other trainers stuff up though.

It was even more amusing when I pointed out what they’d done wrong and they started complaining at me. Or to the boss. But he didn’t care about their complaints.

I always thought it was because of something I said or did. Maybe he thought of me as a surrogate daughter. He’d told me so once as well.

When he was drunk.

It was something which I had thought about a lot in the last seven months. Mainly because he was buying me things I never needed. Besides the occasional gifts I’d gotten from him, I was getting used to doing my own thing.

Razael called me via the personal intercom system his voice echoing through my small room and interrupting my thoughts. My boss had a habit of doing that from time to time.

Come talk to me in my office.

He ended the connection. I glanced at the time on my clock. Two. In the morning. A select few people would even be awake at this time in the morning. I smiled.

That was just wonderful. I would have to deal with less people on my way to the boss’s office. I strolled calmly into my boss’s office.

But inside I was freaking out. As the head of the UTS, Razael could fire me on the spot. I didn’t believe he would though. It would cause trouble for him. I took a seat on the couch beside Razael’s chair. He sighed giving me a grim smile.

I know it’s the day before our trainees arrive, but I need you to track someone down. A man has escaped and is to be brought back. For questioning. You’ll be given keys to a new area. All your stuff will be moved there by the time you get back, Razael explained.

Sure questioning. In the language that was specifically designed for the UTS ‘questioning’ meant ‘torturing and interrogation in a best-case scenario’.

I nodded and walked out. I couldn’t contain my eye roll as I walked to my ‘office’. It was more like a workshop. Stepping into the small chambers which branched off the office, I changed into something I was able to wear for a mission. I pulled on a pair of black pants, a dirt brown tee and black leather boots.

Grabbing weapons, I strapped them on as I walked to the pod hanger. Waiting for me was Zan my personal pod controller.

That’s it. My personal pod controller. He seemed to think we were in a relationship.

Which annoyed me to no end. I had no interest in men that couldn’t at the very least be kind and truthful and loyal to the very few rules set out for them. Zan held open the pod doors as I stepped inside and stood in the centre of the pod.

I didn’t bother strapping myself into one of the seats like I should’ve. It took too much time to pull them off in a dangerous situation.

The pod took off towards our destination, already having the co-ordinates programmed in. Multi-coloured lights flickered on the console before me as we moved automatically taking off in stealth mode.

The pod was shielded with an invisible barrier that stopped anyone other than a member of the UTS seeing us. Not that there would be any UTS members in the area anyway.

Zan shook his head as he handed me the case file. He seemed displeased with the mission that I was going to be going on.

Meaning he’d read the file.

Which wasn’t allowed. I was going to start keeping a tally of every time Zan did something when he wasn’t supposed to. Because, that was the eighth time he’d read the mission profile before I had in a row.

So, I was going to start counting his strikes now. Which would make this strike one. Lovely little strike one. One of ten anyways.

I read over the file quickly. I was supposed to be looking for and bringing in a young child. Easy. When we landed, Zan opened the door for me.

I saw boot prints even before Zan closed the doors. Before I could step out onto the ground. Gods, was he going to do it that way?

That was strike two.

I scoffed at my pod controller’s weakness while silently reminding myself to speak to Razael. I needed a new pod controller by the end of the week. I opened the doors myself. Several minutes of following these boot prints brought me to a pathetic whimpering kid. His brown hair was streaked with blue and his green eyes were huge as they stared at the creature before him.

He was desperate to blend with his surroundings. Which he failed miserably at. His eyes widened even more if that was possible as he looked behind me. It was no doubt because of Zan. I knew he’d been following me. His footfalls were distinctive and easy to track even when he was trying to hide from me.

It made this our strike three.

He would be the silent bystander today because he wasn’t even meant to be here as it was. It would be good for him to witness the monster which was the Executioner.

What kind of machine did they send after me Zan? Why are you with her? the kid asked. He knew Zan. I smirked.

Strike four.

By gods, this counting thing was starting to become fun. What a strange twisted sense of humour I had grown. I mused as to how far this was going to go.

My dearest pod controller only had to get six more strikes today before he was executed for treason against the capital. A total of ten strikes for every mission we went on. But…

Since the boy knew Zan, I could use it against him. Against them both. Yet I had no reason to yet. Zan