A/N: Hello, this is the Prologue to Martial Law, before you begin reading, please remember it's in non-chronological order. More will be revealed as the story goes on and it won't be too hard to put together later on. This story was co-written between me and my friend, Rin. I, however, am the creator. All characters, plot, etc. belong to me. But to be honest, Rin does most the work. Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoy the story. Please critique if you feel the need.

Death, The Colonel, And Far Too Many Questions Waiting To Be Answered (Prologue)

The sight before the Colonel satisfied his thirst for death; his eyes only seemed to twinkle at the scene of destruction before him. Beautifully red blood endlessly poured out of the woman, and with each drop of blood that hit the ground, the smile on the Colonel's face widened. Burning shrapnel lay scattered around the woman, as though framing her very existence, every slight twitch being amplified by the wincing sounds and the flickering light that hung above the immobile woman - she was in clear pain. Causing much alarm for the Colonel, she coughed - spewing even more blood across the floor, leaving a reddy-black tinge. Recollecting himself, he steps cautiously towards her - checking his surroundings as he approaches the almost lifeless body.

"Still alive then?" The Colonel asks, his voice echoing throughout the warehouse. Keeping his distance, he makes perfectly sure she will not move. No response. Walking slowly forwards, he notices she has been almost completely severed in two. The iron poles he had used to impale her onto the brick wall had made quite the weapon. She wasn't going to be moving any time soon.

Not being able to look her previous comrade in the eyes due to being blinded, she leans her head against the wall. The rest she so desperately needs is quickly interrupted by the coughing up of even more blood; mixed in with a bit of shrapnel that had entered her in the previous blast. Attempting to get into a better position, she tries to move her middle section – but to no avail, all she manages to do is further rip her lower body, shortening her life span even more.

"Of course I am," she says with an unrealistically confident tone. Tilting her head towards where the words had came from; she says "You don't honestly think I could die so easily?" To her own surprise, she vomits – sending bile and blood all across the warehouse floor. Even after all the death she's seen, she could not stand the smell of her own blood and organs being ripped out of her by her own body. She was finding it hard holding up this pointless façade to stay confident, stay alert like she had been taught – she even struggled to stay conscious.

"No, my dear," the Colonel began, "that's exactly why I had to go so over the top to kill you." Chuckling lightly to himself, smiling more broadly than ever, he picks up one of the many iron poles scattered around the vast (mostly destroyed) area that is the warehouse. It would only take one more blow to finish her off completely; he was still, however, debating whether or not he should keep talking to her, whether he should drag out her death. Make it more excruciating.

A traitor. That's all she was. She used to be his favorite ally. She was now wearing a uniform supposedly long since forgotten, the black Nazi SS uniform. The tears, blood stains and burns caused by the previous fight had caused it to be almost unidentifiable to anyone else, anyone other than the Colonel. He could still recognize it. This was the uniform he'd seen so many years ago.

"You talk as if I'm already dead, Colonel." The woman was now finding it next to impossible to keep herself conscious, all sound was finding in and out, the sound of her ex-comrade's footsteps muffled. She knew she had lost too much blood, she had done exceptionally well to keep herself together up until this point – but how much longer could she last?

"You know," he says, just within attacking distance. He is not looking at her, he is looking at the flickering light above them, slowly ticking down to her inevitable death. "I'm really going to enjoy killing your father and those annoying cousins of yours after this."

This caught her attention, but it was too late. The iron pole was thrust into her skull causing the contents to go everywhere, chunks her brain being thrown meters away along with the skull protecting it. In the split second she still had consciousness, she saw her family, and heard the Colonels crazed laughter.

For the first time in a long time, he had killed a woman. Having to hold in his arousal and temptation, he began to reorganize his tasks. "First, I'll get changed," he mumbled to himself, looking down on what a mess she had made of his uniform. Bullet holes, tears and burns, his sister would be far from pleased. "But then I'm so going to kill everyone you ever fucking loved." Dabbing at his wounded eye with his sleeve, he turns around and walks away, leaving the destruction behind as he'd done this plenty of times before, limping ever so slightly as he went. The light flickered for the last time, and then shut off for good.