Yesiv Olin's Story

Washington DC

Director Micheal Kelter was not a frequent visitor of the DC branch for B.E.G. E. incorporated, the Bio-engineering and Genetic Enhancement Corporation. He had only recently been promoted as a branch manager after his own boss was “let go.” Of course, everyone knew that being “let go” was the kind term for disappearing permanently, so asking for advice would be out of the question. As such, he was heading to DC, without knowledge of what would go on, only hoping that he wouldn’t be finding himself in a similar position as his boss did.
But how did he get to this point, how did this man find himself now heading a singular branch out in Colorado researching the potentials for the human genome. Of course, he had some idea, something about a subject escaping and all that, but the details were all hush-hush. Besides, that was around five years ago and if anything, he’d probably be the one informed about all this.
Thus, when he stepped into the designated room, Mr. Kelter did not feel much fear when he sat down in the comfy chair. Across the small coffee table from him was a man that held a newspaper over his face. Oh my, how long had this man been waiting. Needless to say, Micheal needed to alert the man to his presence.
But before Micheal could say a word, the man’s voice reverberated through . . . some sort of mask.
“. . . name . . .”
Micheal froze. The voice was guttural and disturbingly skin-crawling. Now that he was fully at attention, he could also hear a heavy breathing sound that seemed to come out of a rebreather. Slowly he spoke, unaware of one terrifying thing that would had determined his fate.
“Micheal Kelter”
As soon as he said this, the newspaper slammed down onto the table as he realized who he was staring at. Looking at Kelter was a mask with a terrifying visage of combat. The nearly red eyes glowed back at him with the fury of something beyond his comprehension. It was then that he realized who the main character of this story was. It was not him or his mundane life as a branch head, but instead it was the man in front of him.
Yesiv Olin, the man of fire, flesh, and steel.
“Good bye Mr. Kelter,” he spoke through his rebreather, a heavy accent following along as well, “You will not be missed.”

Washington DC
An hour after Mr. Kelter’s . . . disappearance
“You are certainly a methodical gentleman, Mr. Olin,” muttered Yesiv’s seedy and nerve wracked employer, Thomas Hildernine, “O-only forty-eight hours and you’ve already tied up all our loose ends.”
Yesiv’s eyes narrowed and with this, the light that came through his mask’s eyes also indicated this as the lights emulated his eye’s movements. It was a strange phenomenon that he had found out about his secondary face when he first began and he honestly was glad. It certainly helped with expressing emotions, an ability that normal mask, and sometimes his own face, clearly lacked.
“There had better be a reason why I haven’t received my payment,” Yesiv hissed as he pressed his knife into the business man’s throat. It didn’t even need to draw blood before the man spit out words. Then again, they weren’t ones he wanted to here.
“N-now hold on there Mr. Olin, our contract states that we have to get rid of ALL the loose ends of our little . . . project. You haven’t finished my friend.”
Yesiv paused and though he still pressed the knife firmly, it soon found its way off his neck and back into his chest holder.
“Go on . . .”
Thomas gulped, “About five years ago, an experiment known as subject 27 escaped our facility. The reason why we had you kill all our loose ends that had even an inkling of knowledge of our project was so that we could get rid of our more traitorous types.”
Yesiv nodded, prompting the shivering employer to continue, “We need you to kill this subject and then you will be paid.”
“I see,” Yesiv said as he finally turned around. The tension now waning, Thomas could now breathe much more heavily, “So, what is the information you have on this subject.”
“All right here,” the employer passed off a packet, “Her actual abilities were never recorded, but recently she’s shown herself as some kind of vigilante hero.”
“Her? Why am I not surprised,” Yesiv cracked his hand as he took a gander at it all.
“Do you require any assistance in eliminating her?”
He did not speak, for when he saw the girl's face something stirred within her.
Yes, this would be interesting indeed

((You might need to write a bit more since I, the RPer, don't have enough information on your character. I'd prefer to know from your writing rather than you telling me straight up. That way, I can make a battle plan for Yesiv :D))

"Aula Charnai Belle," Yesiv repeated to himself, "Interesting child."
The assassin was still sitting in his chair while looking through the folder of information before him. Her capabilities were impressive it would take far more to scare Yesiv Olin. As strong as she was and as many powers as she had, she lacked experience to wield them. All she had taken down were petty crooks or stopped freak accidents from turning into bloody messes. As killer though, oh boy.
"So how long would it take . . ." said Thomas. Immediately the masked man, snapped the folder shut without saying anything else. He moved, almost dragging Thomas along with him.

"Tell me," he said raspily, building to his question "How is project Sampson doing?"

"Project Sampson?!" Thomas sweat a little, "How do yo-"

"Hush little man," instantly the employer sewed his mouth shut as Yesiv turned as his eyes bore through the weak man's skull, "What is the status of project Sampson?"

"Discontinued . . . why?"

The light in his goggles narrowed as a smug smile came from under his mask, "Goooood . . . and remember to keep it that way."

With that, Yesiv Olin left the building and disappeared from the streets. Unseen in a dark alley, Yesiv made his way to an undisclosed location and pulled out a small metal case. Taking a syringe, he plunged the needle into his neck and growled.

Project Sampson had better stay dead . . .