I wrote the first page of this a while ago and I decided to see just how far with it I could get. So.. yeah...
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She smiles and brings the glass to her lips, never taking a drink, only teasing her counterpart. Tossing her black hair, she laughs. Hers wasn't a gentle laugh, as you may expect of one with her expression, it was a loud laugh, one that would remind a person that sometimes the world really is laughing at you, and pointing a large finger in your face as it did so. Leaning across the table, she looked her colleague in the eye. The two were now close enough to kiss, but neither had this intention, they would sooner bite eachother's faces right off their skulls than kiss. The smile dissapeared from her face, herlips sat straight against eachother and parted only to allow sound to pass. "What exactly is it that you want from me?"
He paused for a moment, his eyes moved from hers to the glass on the table, still full. He frowned at her refusal to drink, was he really that untrustworthy? He leaned back in his seat deciding it may be best to answer her question, "I need you... to do another mission..."
She growled loudly, pounding a fist on the table, "
FUCK! I just got back from the last one you sent me on and you want me to go back out there!?"
He grimaced, this wasn't the reaction he was expecting. He slowly opened his hazel eyes, ready to plead with her but was instead met with the sight of two blood covered hands. The shock of the two palms caused him to jump back in his seat, "Jesus fuck, Kyle! Didn't you wash your hands before you came here?" She smiled at him, running a hand through her hair, with her red eyes squinting in a manner that implied amusement. He drew a long breath and took one of her hands between his two, "please Kyle... remember how much you loved the last one, you wouldn't stop talking about it on the phone..."
Remembering the scene, she smiled in a manner reminiscent of a litt;e girl remembering Christmas, "... Atashi wa... Atashi wa Shinigami desu..." Her left hand unconcsiously moved in a stabbing motion and she giggled quietly.
"See how much you enjoyed it, Kyle? You can't tell me that-"
"I don't want to." Kyle sat back down, glaring at her partner.
"Look. You signed a contract. That's just the way it is." He stood up and made his way out of the bar, paying for the drinks he had bought and leaving as discretely as the building would allow.
Kyle stood shortly after, leaving via a backdoor that led into an alleyway. She eyed a group of thugs standing a couple of feet away from her, however she wasn't in a fun mood and decided to leave the gang alone. A shame that the gang didn't feel the same way. One, who was clearly not the leader, came from the group and made his way towards Kyle. He walked quickly so as to end up in front of her and the backed her into a wall, he moved a hand towards her shoulder and attempted to pull away the straps of her vest, only to have her swat away his hand. He winked at her and smiled, "ooh, fiesty."
She heaved and fought back her physical need to vomit, despite how revolting her current situation was. Looking at her 'attacker' she sighed, "what do you want? I'm tired and I need a bath."
"You sound so bored, don't I interest you?"
"Not particularly, no."
He frowned and paused for a moment, "well... why don't I make things more interesting?" He lingered on the last word as if he had just delivered the most inspiring statement of the century. He pushed her into the wall and attempted to pull up her shirt. In a swift movement, as though she had been training for this moment her entire life, she grabbed his wrists, kicked him in the gut, swung him around and pushed him face-first into the wall, holding him up by twisting his arm at an unnatural angle with one hand and pushing his face roughly into the wall with the other.
"What did I say to you? Didn't I say I wasn't interested?
DIDN'T I!?"
He attempted to nod, however, he found the rough brick grating on the side of his face unbearable and spluttered out a feeble, "ye... yes ma'am..."
She kicked him in the side of his knee and threw him on the floor, "good boy." She began to walk away and turned around to find a larger member of the gang stampeding towards her. Standing her ground, she waited a moment, grabbed his arm and swung him into the wall, there was a definitive crack and he slumped towards the ground. He was undoubtedly dead. Two more rushed at her, she pulled a pair of knuckle dusters out of her pockets and put them on, the left one was bladed and the right was flat. She dodged a barrage of blows, jumping backwards after every few steps they took forwards. Taking a risk, she punched one in the face with her right hand, taking the moment of shock from the two she punched him in the neck with her left hand and again with the right. She grabbed his arm and spun slightly, swinging him as though she were a professional wrestler. When she was satisfied that the momentum would be enough, she let go and his carcass flew into his counterpart, knocking him clear off his feet. She jumped towards him and landed over him, she drove her left hand into his neck and stood up, making sure to kick him in the head as she walked away. Looking around, she noticed the last member standing at the back of the alley and the first member watching in horror. Smiling to herself, she sauntered away
***
He scanned the casebook, his hazel eyes becoming weary from the overtime. He sighed, Kyle's was by far the messiest contract he had ever dealt with, but she was also his favourite. She never failed, though she had a habit of needing a clean up team at the site when she was finished, he was just lucky she didn't require a lot of pay or his company would be run into the ground. If you could call it a company, most companies dealt with at least 50 contracts at a time in a large office building and had a bazillion lawyers. He dealt with one, maybe two contracts at a time, his office was in his house and he had a legal aid. It was a wonder he ever got any clients at all.
There was a bang outside the door and Kyle entered his office, he scowled, this was the third security system she had broken. She threw herself in a seat across from him, noticing the dissatisfied look on his face, she feigned a look of shock, "what? If you insist on making your security systems so complicated then I'll never remember how to get in!"
He sighed, "nice to see you too, Lorelie"
She beamed, of the million nicknames he refereed to her by, Lorelie was her favourite, especially when it was said with a french accent so that it was 'lor-elee' instead of 'lor-e-lie'. She watched as he put her casebook away and took the moment to sit on his desk, "Nice to see you too, Tyr."
"Why must you call me that? My name is Alec, call me Alec. 5 years and you still insist on calling me Tyr."
"I call you it because Tyr's your name. Tyr Adil Alexander Raiden-Roth" She grinned proudly, as though she had just won the jackpot on a gameshow.
"Curse my mother and her fancy names..." He looked up and frowned at her again, a common practice, "you know I hate it when you sit on my desk.. you take up so much space."
"Are you calling me fat?"
"Yes, now move." He dropped a file on the desk as she moved to the chair and opened it up with details of her target. He smiled at her as she pulled it towards her to get a better look, "I assume you came to apologise for your scene at the bar?"
"Not apologise, no. Just came to say that I'll accept the job." She thumbed through the file, checking every last detail.
"What made you change your mind?"
"I got into a fight outside the bar... got my thirst ba- Holy fucking fuck! What the hell are you showing me!?" She pointed to a picture of an elaborate murder scene. There was something that resembled a woman's body on a bed, recognisable as human only by her lifeless face. There was an ear missing, along with a portion of her nose. Her abdomen looked as though it had exploded, it was torn open with almost nothing left visible inside aside from a uterus missing an ovary and what looked like a violently assaulted kidney. Her stomach was on the floor next to her and her liver was on display on the shelf above her. The entire scene was a mess of blood and chunks of flesh. Subsequent photos detailed that she had died because of a blow to the back of her head with a blunt object and throttling with a thick rope.
"It seems we have a Jack the Ripper fanboy on our hands... goes after prostitutes and kills 'em. Strange thing is, he still pays for his... encounters..."
She closed the file and slid it back to Tyr, "I have to pose as a fucking whore?" It wasn't really a question, more a statement with a venomous tone to it. He nodded and she cursed under her breath, "this is sick... I swear, if anything happens aside from my killing him.... you're gonna wish that sick fuck had his way with you instead."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She stood up quietly and looked at her blood covered state. She hadn't really noticed during the fight, but she was a mess of blood, sweat and hair that she wasn't entirely sure belonged to her. "Hey, is your shower working? The heating's out in building and-"
"Yeah, yeah, sure. Leave your clothes in the basket, I'll wash them for you."
Stretching out, her bones clicked loudly as she pushed her arms upward, "I love you! Thanks." She blew him a kiss playfully and ran out of the room.
