(Number Five x Female OC)
Highest Rankings:
#1 #numbereight
#1 #numberfive
#1 #benhargreeves
#1 #aidangallagher
#1 #allisonhargreeves
After one of her brothers died and one disappeared, Number Eight and the remaining members of the Hargreeves fami...
"Ugh, Five, this is a lot of sneaking around. What are we doing?" Number Eight groaned whilst Number Five was peeking around the corner of a wall. He was furiously focused.
"Something's up. I can tell." He muttered between his teeth. The sound of typewriters clacking echoed throughout the hallowed halls whilst Number Five tapped the heel of his foot on the floor, nervously. "Come on." He took her hand and closed his fists, preparing to use his powers to blink. "And hold your stomach, now is no time for vomiting." He teased, a smirk growing on his lips. Soon, the pair blinked into the tube room and hid behind the large apparatus.
Dot walked into the room and stopped abruptly in front of Gloria's desk. Dot was holding a pneumatic tube closely to her chest, as though it would get lost if she didn't grasp it until her knuckles were white. "Gloria, The Handler knows that Number Five and Number Eight are up to something." She said, sounding almost panicked.
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"Shit." Number Eight whispered, kissing her teeth and sighing.
"Get this to Hazel and Cha Cha immediately. Immediately!" Dot continued, before placing the golden tube in Gloria's shaking hands. She quickly totted away, leaving the confused Gloria standing on her own.
Gloria couldn't help but stare at the tube, wondering what message could be inside. "Yeah... who are they?" She mumbled to herself.
"Follow me." Number Five whispered, once again taking Number Eight's hand and blinking so that he stood behind Gloria. He hit the woman around the back of the head, causing her to fall the the ground, unconscious.
Despite her stomach spinning, as usual, Number Eight scrambled to pick up the pneumatic tube from the floor and pulled out the slip of paper that was rolled up neatly. "Reassignment: Protect Harold Jenkins. Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" She raised her eyebrow, passing the slip of paper to Number Five.
"I have no clue, but keep it. I've got an idea." He sat at Gloria's typewriter and began typing, creating to separate orders ready to be sent into the field.
Number Eight stood behind the boy, leaning over his shoulder to read what he was writing. She saw that he was creating orders to Hazel and Cha Cha, separately telling them to eliminate the other. "Oh, you're a clever one, Fivey." She ruffled his hair was her palm, causing him to roll his eyes in dismay. He placed the orders into their appropriate tubes, sending them into the field.
"You know that's not how we do things here." Said the irritating voice of The Handler. The sound of her stilettos entered the room and her body followed soon after.
Number Eight groaned. "And she's back." She folded her arms and tutted. Now, quite frankly, she was sick of seeing the woman's face.
"Where's Gloria?" The Handler asked, a placid yet borderline demonic smile creeping on her face.
Number Five leant on one of the tubes and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know."
"We couldn't find her anywhere." Number Eight added, causing The Handler's eye to twitch slightly.Just as she spoke, Gloria groaned on the floor, causing The Handler to notice her injured body.
