Kenneth woke up in what appeared to be a dark alley.
Feeling a sharp pain in her leg, she looked down, discovering a bleeding gash on her right thigh. Not only that, but it seemed like she'd been hit in the back of the head with a blunt object. Feeling disoriented and confused, she looked around trying to make sense of what happened to her.
Her senses having kicked in, the silhouette of a tall man appears in the corner of her eye. She focuses in on the slender, roughly 6 foot figure crouched down and rummaging through something.
It only takes her a matter of seconds to realize that the man is her assailant and she'd been attacked; her guess, a robbery. Looking around, Kenneth tries to find an easily fashioned weapon in case the man decides to attack her again. She finds a wooden ledge split in two and grabs it as inconspicuously as possible, in an effort not to alert the man.
As a special forces officer, she had received extensive training on how to get out of any situation using unconventional means. Starting off as a child soldier after being orphaned in her home country, Kenneth was a born killing machine. This situation wasn't the worst she's seen and given her years of experience, she could tell that this man was far from her match.
Confident she could knock him out without breaking a sweat, she wondered how she'd found herself vulnerable enough for him to get the drop on her, let alone stab her?
Something wasn't right, she thought. Just by looking at her feeble legs she could tell that this body wasn't her own. Having trained since she was a preteen, all the muscles she had worked hard for were no longer discernible.
Kenneth didn't have the time to think about what was going on though: she needed to take this idiot out as quickly as possible. She soundlessly hoisted herself off the ground, simultaneously ignoring the pain in her thigh and her throbbing head.
Using her good leg, she crawled towards the man, inching closer and closer towards him. Gripping her wooden weapon tightly in her hands, she raised it above her head like a baseball bat and swung, hitting the man at the back of his head in a non fatal blow. The last thing she needed was another body on her hands, especially when she wasn't the owner of this one.
The unsuspecting man hit the floor with a loud thud, allowing Kenneth the time to quickly look over his older face, committing every feature to memory. She then dragged his unconscious body with great difficulty to a corner and proceeded to search his belongings.
She pulled out what looked to be an identification card which read:
Name: Charles Benette
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Registration status: Unregistered
Ignoring his name, Kenneth frowned at the second and penultimate titles. Why was he put under human? Wasn't it obvious he was a human? Wouldn't they put white or caucasian under the category race?
When observing the man, she could tell he was a white male, most likely in his mid thirties, 6 foot tall as established and a little gaunt looking, as though he hadn't eaten in a few days.
And what was with this registration status?
Well Kenneth didn't have time to dwell on the details because she could hear people coming her way.
She didn't want to be discovered by others for fear of having to explain the stab wound and the unconscious man laying in a corner. She quickly gathered what looked to be her belongings and disposed of the weapon, conscious of the possibility of fingerprint identification.
She deftly performed basic first aid, trying to staunch the bleeding from her wound, disinfecting it and wrapping it up with a piece of cloth she had taken from the man's shirt. Kenneth then remembered that a stabbing meant a weapon, a weapon which must still be on the man's person.
Looking around, the glare of an object against the sun something caught her eye. Venturing further into the alley, she saw what looked to be a dagger that had been tossed on
the ground. The dagger in question looked carefully crafted, embellished with intricate designs surrounding the handle of the blade. For some reason, Kenneth found herself almost enchanted with the weapon.
She quickly grabbed the dagger, stuffing it into her bag. She did a final once over, making sure she hadn't left any DNA or evidence behind before putting on her hood and walking out of the alley.