<Lisa Wells. Codename: Proxxy. Combat Engineer. Sent here on accounts of “strange looking merc that one moment was there, the next was gone.” Clinically sane but experts suggest a strong case of PTSD. Interview #3>
Wh-what happened?
<Miss Wells? Can you hear us? snapping of fingers is heard (Subject is responsive, it appears she has worn off her panic attack induced by her memories several weeks ago and has withdrawn from her comatose state.) Miss Wells, please continue where you left off, if you please.>
Where was I?
<You had just witnessed Phantom’s martial prowess in dealing with the enemy mercenaries.>
Right, right. Well… Nader was carrying me on her shoulder and um… We were delivering the virus cases, didn’t take that long until the chopper flew over and grabbed the container. You can guess that’s where it all went sour with the…
<Miss Wells?>
How did you know his name?
<I’m sorry? Whose name?>
The ghosts… His name is Phantom- YOU KNEW! YOU HIRED HIM TO KILL US YOU SONS OF BITCHES!! YOU- You… you…
<Miss Wells! (Subject is extremely irrational, showing signs of loss of control, bordering on berserk rage. Suggested a transfer to Intensive Care Unit #7>
you knew
(Aw, too short? Yeah, this is a teaser for the continuation of the story. Please tell me what you think!)