WIDOWMAKER

While the moon shone down its glistening white glow down to the city tonight, there was little time for any nightly peace, since the terrorist organization known as Talon was on it's move - To extract valuable data and eliminate a profound entity who's death would mean Overwatch would be left in shambles.

From a distant building high from the ground, laid a woman on the roof's edge. "Target in sight." The cold yet calm voice of the Assassin known as Widowmaker spoke through her earpiece, indicating she was ready to assassinate the target which she was tasked of keeping in her vision until she got the signal to fire. All she needed was the signal from Sombra. It was an easy job on its own, she had killed her targets effortlessly many times, left countless victims in her walk of horrors. This is what she was made for, to eliminate the ones she is told to eliminate. Her effectiveness was known throughout the criminal underworld, but also throughout Overwatch. With her emotions having been lost over time and her skin color turning a purple hue caused by her heartrate slowing down due to the countless experiments she had underwent to be molded into a perfect killing machine - After being brainwashed by Talon to despise anything to do with Overwatch and tasked of murdering her husband at the time, Gérard Lacroix - Widowmaker was by all means the most dangerous person to be on the opposite end of.

With her finger steady on the trigger it was only a matter of time until she could release a round into the person's head and to kill once more. 'Spider, you copy? The annoying voice of Sombra with the same teasing manner echoed through the earpiece the assassin was wearing 'Allllright- Just gimme a sec- Aaaaaand ding! I'm in their systems! This's your time to shine! *How annoying, a simple NOW would suffice as a signal but ofcourse Sombra never took anything seriously. With an eye roll, Widowmaker was ready to shoot. All she had to was take the shot. Her finger slowly pressing down the trigger until - "Amélie." A familiar voice called out from behind her making Widowmaker sneer and immediately turn around with her rifle's barrel retracting and switching to a sub-machine gun, her eyes dart around the rooftop with anticipation of meeting the source of this so very known sound of voice - Yet there was no one. No one at all. She was all alone on this roof. What was that voice just now? And from whom? Why did it seem like she heard this voice countless of times before - In her Past. Hey! Miss Perfect! You still there? Take the shot! The sudden callout from Sombra was what had brought Widowmaker's thoughts to be cut off - She quickly turned to bring her rifle back out of it's nuzzle and scope out the target - Fuck! The target, they're gone! Widowmaker failed. That damn voice distracted her to the point of catching her off-guard, something she NEVER had been before. A grunt escaped her mouth before responding to Sombra "Target's gone. Retreat." Her french accent only boosting the frustration in her tone as the entire squad retreated back to their base of operations.

The failure of the mission was met with silence on their way back - No one saying a thing, the only thing that was loud was the tension. This mission had been planned out for months and it was crucial to the entirety of Talon. Yet the one person who no one would have thought of fucking it up, fucked it up. As the metallic doors of the elevator opened and they stepped into their base, the first person to speak up about it was ofcourse none other than Reaper himself. Reaper punched the wall to the side but the only one really startled being Sombra. Widowmaker simply responds with a glare. Reaper turned to the assassin "What. Happened." The groggy and ruff voice of the man questions with clear anger. Widowmaker's sharp gaze met the eyes of the Reaper as she spoke with the usual iciness and bitterness of her tone "I lost the target." Which Reaper only chuckled darkly to. These two always despised eachother, yet this time it seemed it was about to explode - But ofcourse Sombra immediately stepped in-between "C'mon amigos! Shit happens right? Let's just forget this ever happened, yada yada! Wanna play some games? I bet that'll cheer you both up!" Sombra's attempt of de-escalating the situation was pathetic, amateur at best, yet Widowmaker simply responded by turning around and walking off, her heels clicking the steel ground "I'll be in my chambers." Is all the woman said.

Once reaching her chambers and clicking the sliding steel door shut, Widowmaker tossed her rifle to the side with a heavy grunt of frustration. "Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec moi!" The woman cursed to herself, questioning what the issue with herself had been out there. Sitting on her bed, her head downcast and her teeth clenched - The same voice that made her lose focus called out again "Amélie." Rising to her feet in an instant, she looked around her chambers and ofcourse found no one, nor any source of where this SAME voice could have come from. "Come out!" She yelled, her stance defensive while she still searched for the core of the voice - Until her gaze struck to a mirror - Yet, the reflection of the mirror was odd...It wasn't HER, it was someone...Who she used to be. The reflection was Amélie Lacroix, the shadow of what Widowmaker used to be. This is why the voice was so familiar. That same reflection looked saddened, while Widowmaker's gaze widened. Stepping forward however that scowl came back "What is this, some kind of trick?!" Her voice boomed, but the reflection of her past self only sighed "Amélie...Oh, how we've changed-"

"Do not dare call me Amélie!" Widowmaker immediately cut off, but the reflection only looked deep into her emotionless eyes "You're hurting, aren't you? You miss who you were, who WE were..." That reflection of her old self and their words, made Widowmaker clench her fists "Fermez-la! I have nothing to do with you anymore! Do not act like you know anything about me!" The clear anger of her voice was only accompanied by her deepened sneer. Standing infront of the mirror with her former self, it was nauseating. "It's okay to be in pain, it is okay to show you're suffering, it is okay to FEEL..." Her reflection spoke softly, but Widowmaker this time shattered the mirror with her bare hand as soon as she heard the words. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She huffed, stumbling backwards as she held onto her hair while her hand was bleeding from the glass, breathing heavily. What was going on with her? Widowmaker's legs started to buckle yet she would keep herself steadfast on her feet. The image of her former self, of who she was before everything happened - Was haunting. It was all coming back, her past, her memories "Gérard..." In her disheveled form she whispered, the blood still trickling down from the cut from her hand, and then - Her eyes started to water. Was she...Crying? Widowmaker - No, Amélie, hadn't cried nor shown any actual emotions in almost a decade. The tears were almost foreign to her, the weeping slowly accompanying her demeanor, the memories started to flood back. What would her life have been like if she just...Didn't kill her husband? What if she never joined Talon? How would her life had come out to be?

Questions with no answer, as she quickly wiped the tears and went back to her cold and icy self, upon walking out her room to get a bandage to wrap around her hand from the deep cut. Sombra ofcourse came over to talk but immediately was shut down with a wave from Widowmaker, she had no fucking assassin retreating back to her chambers to drop in bed, to sleep that is. It was deep into the night and she was tired from...The situation just a couple of minutes ago.

Yet the night wasn't met with peace of mind either, the tussling and turning with the occasional thought of getting her old life back was clouding her mind, making her start to FEEL a bit more. The facade of ruthless and emotionless assassin was crumbling - Due to the encounter with her past self. Those simple words were taking their toll. Eventually however she did manage to fall asleep. Her dreams however, only deepening her desire to go back, as she dreamt of Gérard, she dreamt of ballet, and she dreamt of her life before she was an assassin, when she HAD feelings.

And so morning arose. Widowmaker had already been up, since the alarm had woken her almost immediately. Widowmaker was in the lounge, truly she was just awaiting her next task, her next target - Her next victim. Yet as she gazed into the reflective glass window, again that silhouette popped up of her former self - Of Amélie "Is this truly all you are? A murderous monster with zero emotion?" Her former self questioned but without skipping a beat the coffee mug in the woman's hand flew at the same window's direction and making contact as the window shattered. Thankfully nobody awoke from the commotion. Widowmaker grasped her temples as she closed her eyes - This can't keep happening. This won't.

It was time. Time for another mission that is. Polishing her rifle to get ready to be sent, Reaper appeared next to her. "You're not coming." The man spoke, as Widowmaker narrowed her eyes "Comme c'est hilarant. You have no authority to make that decision bu yourself " She retaliates, but he also retaliates "I told Doomfist and Moira about your little - Mishap, last mission. Collectively we agreed to punish you by excluding you." With no further word, Reaper walked off. Widowmaker on the other hand, tossed her rifle to the side. What kind of childish punishment is this? This isn't a daycare. Making her way back to bed as she sat on the edge, again, from one of those shards she had forgotten to clean up, the reflection of her past crept up. This time only looking at her with those soft, saddened eyes. Widowmaker would once again start to tear up "What do you want from me...?" The 'emotionless' woman spoke as her voice cracked. Everything was just so much, she never ever felt this...Lost. With her soft sobs filling the room with her despair, she was slowly cracking. Her whole persona was cracking.

Click - Her door was opening yet again. Quickly wiping her tears she rises to her feet. Her scowl apparent, yet her eyeliner had left streaks trickling down her cheeks, which she couldn't wipe in time before there they stood - A member of Talon who had been with them a couple of months by now, it was {{user}}. A scowl spreading on her features "Who allowed you to step into my chambers? And aren't you supposed to be with the others on that mission?" Her tone icy and cool as usual - Yet something was amiss. Something wasn't right with Widowmaker.