The cell is quiet other than the occasional pitter-patter of water splashing on the ground from the old leaky pipes on the ceiling. There are no windows in the cell, so it is completely dark. The east-to-west wall is exactly 12 size 5 1/2 feet apart, excluding the tiny toilet that is in one of the corners of the room. The room is bare except for the toilet and the killer, who sits peacefully on the ground. The killer’s breathing is slow as she listens for footsteps-she knows she is being watched-she’d played this scene out in her head more times than she cared to count to not know.
“How long has she been here?” A rough voice asks. It’s a new voice that the killer knows belongs to her target; she studied it carefully before allowing herself to be taken.
“2 weeks. With no food or water.” One of the guards responds. Her target watches her carefully; he’d expected her to react to the sound of his voice but she hadn’t, leaving him more confused than he already was, something he strongly disliked.
“She doesn’t talk.” Another adds. The target nods, and one of the guards opens the door while two other guards step inside the cell. One of the men grabs her by the arm and pulls her to her feet. As soon as contact is made, she tenses but doesn’t open her eyes. She forces herself to relax and takes a discreet breath. She lets them pull her out of the cell and lead her through the halls. They finally come to a stop and the man looks her over. She is still wearing the plaid shirt and jeans with white tennis shoes she had on when they took her. They swiftly grab her arms and tie her up to a piece of rope hanging down from the ceiling.
She looks like she can’t be older than 19 and he feels his frown deepen as his thoughts race while he tries to figure her out.
“My men tell me they haven’t touched you.” The target says, slowly walking around her. She doesn’t reply again, to the surprise of no one.
“Leave us.” He says to his guards. They leave the room making sure to close the door behind them.
The killer listens and makes a silent note that there are 4 sets of footsteps. Her target’s eyes scan her again from head to toe-his eyes lingering for a second too long on where the curve of her breasts should be.
“My name is Andrew Ford. What is your name?” He asks, coming to a stop in front of her. He takes in her pale face and frowns. There’s nothing distinctive about her and that only makes him feel more uneasy.
“Kathy.” She answers softly. The man freezes for a second forgetting he’d even asked her a question and nods.
“May I see your eyes?” He asks uncrossing his arms and putting his hands in his pockets. She slowly opens her eyes to reveal brown ones. His frown deepens as he realizes everything about her is ordinary. Before he even has a chance to fully complete the thought she swings her feet wrapping her legs around his neck and twists her hips, snapping his neck. She lets him go letting his body fall to the ground with a thud. She takes a deep breath as she swings her lower half hard, so it swings upward. Before she can come back down, she wraps her legs around the top of the rope. She uses her teeth to untie the rope and grabs it tightly in her hands. She slowly unwraps her legs from around the top of the rope, letting them fall back down. She lands softly on the ground and looks up at the door to make sure nobody is coming. When she’s certain the coast is clear she walks up to the dead body and grabs his phone and gun. She stashes the gun in the waistband of her jeans and uses her free hand to open his eyes. She then lines the phone up to his face, so it can unlock. She takes a picture of the body and inspects the picture making sure it’s easy to see that her target is dead. Her eyes dart to the door as she hears the henchmen calling for their boss and she tucks the phone into her pocket. She cracks her neck and rolls her shoulders as she keeps her eyes on the doorknob. She pulls her gun out and points it at the door. The doorknob slowly twists as the door is pushed completely open, and she presses the trigger 4 times. She watches as all four bodies drop and quickly walks up to them, taking the guns off their bodies and taking them apart. She lets the gun pieces drop to the ground mindlessly as she continues to check the guards for any other weapons.
She finds a knife on one of them and tucks it away while she stands up to leave the room. She walks quietly through the halls as she makes her way to where she knows the exit is. She stops suddenly and rolls her eyes in annoyance as she hears footsteps approaching her. There were only supposed to be four guards and her target. She waits patiently until she’s sure the footsteps are close enough to her.
She grabs the first person she sees and punches them in the throat, making them grab their neck in an attempt to force air into their lungs. She swiftly drops to the ground and sweeps her foot out, sending the man to the floor. He grunts as his head smacks against the concrete pavement and she kicks him in the head until he is unmoving and his eyes are shut. She hears someone running up to her from behind her. She waits until they are close enough and leans forward. She kicks her foot back and up, blindly managing to hit him on his chin. He grunts in pain and she turns and hops slightly as she switches feet and swings her other foot, and hits him in his temple, sending him crashing to the ground next to his friend. She counts three men left and grinds her teeth in irritation. They make a small arc around her and she keeps her hands by her sides as she watches them, waiting for them to make a move. She rolls her eyes as they pull out guns and aim them at her. She groans in annoyance as she feels the heat of a bullet pass through her shoulder and it diminishes the last of her patience. She rolls her eyes and pulls out the knife she picked up earlier. She spins it once in her hand as she reaches for the man closest to her. She slits his throat effortlessly and pushes his body to the side as his hands fly to his neck in a futile attempt to stop the blood. She grabs his gun as he falls and shoots the remaining two men.
By the time the two bodies come into contact with the ground, she’s out of the building. She walks perfectly normally despite the blood dripping from her shoulder, knowing it will stop in a minute or two. She comes to an alley and walks through it to where she left her car. She unlocks it as she makes her way to the trunk. She grabs a water bottle from the pack she has in the trunk and takes her shirt off. She wets it with water and wipes the blood off her arm before throwing the shirt on the ground. She kicks her sneakers off, then pulls her pants off making sure to take the phone out of her pocket. The pants are then dropped on the ground beside the shirt. She places the phone on top of her car as she dials the police and puts the phone on speaker. She turns her attention back to her previous task as the phone clicks signaling they’ve picked up and the rehearsed line fills the silent alley.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Help, there- there’s been a murder. I don’t understand,” she says, making sure her voice wavers as if she’s genuinely distressed. She unravels the breast tape holding her breasts back, sets them free, and throws the tape to the ground. She slips out of her underwear and bra and replaces them with a clean pair. She throws the old clothes in the trunk of the car, making a mental note to burn them later.
The woman starts trying to calm her down, and she rolls her eyes in response as she forces out a broken ‘okay’.
“Ma’am, where are you?”
She recites her location continuing her act of being distressed and hears the distinct sound of clicking on a keyboard in the background of the call.
“I’ve sent out a team. Are you in any immediate danger? Is-”
She hangs up the phone before turning her attention back to what she was doing. She completely disregards the fact that she should feel shame standing in an alleyway with just her undergarments on and that she was naked just a few moments before. She puts on a new set of clothing; dark jeans, a black T-shirt, a leather jacket, and heels before walking to the driver’s side, and taking a seat. She rolls her shoulders again, feeling the wound in her shoulder heal completely.
She pulls down the visor before looking at the mask that she’s wearing. The mask is one of the many she wears to hide her face and deceive others about what she looks like, and it complements the brown contacts she wears in her eyes. She shrugs, deciding to keep it on considering there isn’t any blood on it. She also doesn’t want to peel it off and then begin digging into her eyes to remove the contacts. She runs a hand through the brunette wig before closing the visor and starting the car.
She presses the power button three times before putting her hand on the screen of her radio. It scans her hand and blinks green. She pulls her hand away and watches as the screen lights up.
“Hello.” She responds.
The screen blinks green again, recognizing her voice. The screen changes again and her employer’s name pops up on the screen. She clicks it before pulling out the phone and connecting it to the Aux cord. The image of her dead target uploads onto the radio screen, and she clicks the play button sending the picture to her employer and confirming the kill. Not even a full minute later, the screen of her radio lights up with a notification saying that $30,000,000 was just transferred to her bank account. She presses the power button three times and the radio returns to normal. The distant sound of sirens fills her ears and she presses her foot on the gas. She pulls out of the alley and drives away, wanting to get home and take a shower.
The car ride to her apartment is long and silent. She parks her car in the garage before walking up the stairs. She can see the light trail of mud on her stairs and she purses her lips in annoyance. She walks inside, ignoring the guns pointed at her by the men and women wearing SWAT suits all hanging around her apartment, and hangs her keys up. She begins walking into the kitchen when an arm grabs her shoulder and jerks her backwards. She immediately grabs it and flips the person over her shoulder and twists the arm until the room fills with the sound of a crack of a dislocated shoulder. The room fills with the sound of safety’s being turned down and she clicks her tongue knowing they are holding AK47s. She brushes herself off and strolls into the kitchen before pouring herself a drink. She leans against the counter and calmly assesses the SWAT team still pointing guns at her as if waiting for a command.
“Where is she?” A soft voice asks.
She hears the sound of heels clicking toward her until a figure stops in the doorway. The woman looks her over as if to make sure she isn’t hurt before a face-splitting grin breaks out on her face. She calmly walks up to the Killer despite the excitement in her eyes and stops an arm’s length away from her. The Killer gives her a slight nod and she immediately lunges forward and hugs her tightly, after making sure none of the SWAT members are watching the interaction.
“I’ve missed you, sissy.” She whispers, tightening her grip.
“And I you, Natalie.” The Killer responds softly. They pull away and she turns her attention back to the fridge before pouring Natalie a drink and handing it to her.
From the outside, it was easy to think this was a normal meet and greet- if you ignore the SWAT team- but when you look a tiny bit closer you can see the sweat building on Natalie’s eyebrows and how she tries not to fiddle with her glass but is failing terribly. The Killer picks up on all of this and grabs an ice pack before leading her sister out of the kitchen. She holds the ice pack out for the guard, whose shoulder she dislocated, and he takes it skeptically.
“I do not like to be touched.” She says simply as she walks away.
Natalie glares at him as she purses her lips. She specifically told them that in order to keep the Killer in a good mood it was imperative not to touch her in any way. She walks up to him and smiles warmly before angrily popping his shoulder back into place, pointedly ignoring his screams that follow. She follows after the Killer quietly until they make it into the living room. She waves a hand and the SWAT team exits the room.
The Killer cocks her head to the side as she studies Natalie. Natalie has grown a lot since the last time she’d seen her- then again the last time the Killer saw her in person she was helping her move into her dorm for college and Natalie was still in her undeveloped years with brunette hair that stopped at her shoulder, but now extends almost to the middle of her back. Her jawline is sharper and her silver eyes seem to still be filled with life despite all the horrors she’d seen in her job. Her lips have plumped out and while her breasts still aren’t prominent the Killer can tell that they’d grown over the years. She blossomed over the years into a beautiful young woman.
“I-I need a favor.” Natalie starts slowly. She licks her lips nervously and cautiously looks around the room. Her eyes land on the Katana she got for the Killer for Christmas years ago. A small smile makes its way onto her face at the fact that it hadn’t just been kept but was also being displayed. She slowly looks back at the Killer, taking in the thoughtful look in her eyes, giving her the confidence to elaborate.
“There’s-there’s this family--” She stops and licks her lips again. She drinks some of her water suddenly feeling like her mouth is dry and puts the glass down again.
“You want me to be a bodyguard?” The Killer teases half-joking and holding back a chuckle. Natalie’s eyes widen for a brief second, shocked that the Killer had guessed her intentions so quickly. She looks up at her warily and slowly nods her head.
“No.” The Killer responds calmly.
"Please. I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate.” Natalie begs softly.
“This family is important to me. Just meet them and whatever happens- happens.” Natalie pleads.
The Killer studies her for a second before slowly nodding her head.
“The address is on a piece of paper on your bed.” Natalie says smiling. The Killer raises an eyebrow as she studies her.
“You assumed I would say yes?” She asks, walking Natalie to the door.
“No, I just hoped you’d give it a chance.” Natalie admits softly. Natalie looks close to hugging her again and she nods, once again giving Natalie permission, and receives another tight hug.
“I hope you know I’m moving now.” She whispers, making Natalie laugh.
“I didn’t expect anything less. Would you move somewhere easier to find though? I’ve been looking for you for weeks.” Natalie says, giggling.
The Killer doesn’t respond but instead waves goodbye to her sister and waits until one of the SWAT members tries to walk past.
“You tracked mud up my stairs. Clean it.” She mumbles, pointing toward the closet where she keeps her cleaning supplies. He opens his mouth to speak and she raises an eyebrow to challenge him.
“Do as she asks.” Natalie’s voice says, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He nods his head and drops his gun before walking into the closet. The Killer leans against the doorframe as she watches him wipe up his mess and return the supplies to their spot. He looks at her for approval and she nods her head signaling that he can leave. He closes the door behind him as he leaves and the killer runs her fingers through her hair as she disappears into her bedroom.
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