The alley was covered in a blanket of cold darkness. The rain fell like warm drops upon the cobblestone. Perched upon a building's ledge, like a gargoyle, was a hooded figure gazing upon the alleys below through her mask. Her coal black eyes intensely scouring the area like a predator in search of its prey. What exactly she was searching for was beyond her, but she knew that she was sent here for a reason. The oracle told her to be here at this precise moment. The moon shined down over the suburbs, but nearly any light streamed through the gray clouds that filled the sky. There was little noise besides a siren of a car that had smashed into a light-post just a block away. It fascinated the hooded women that such a sound could travel this far. The suburbs were usually filled with guns blazing and hoodlums begging for their next hookup, but not this night. It was almost a surreal feeling to her. Surreal enough that she nearly gave in to the feeling of fear. What could the oracle have been implying to her? “Go to the suburbs around midnight dear, and there you will find what you have been searching for all this time.” |
Sure, like she really could find her dead husband's killer. That would be a sight of horror that she wouldn't have been able to cope with. She declared years ago what she would do to the man who shot her husband down like cattle for the slaughter. There was nearly nothing left of him when she came home that night. Her husband's face split apart in two, his limbs torn from his body and flung across the house in various places, his insides torn out leaving an empty carcass. She had nightmares every night because of those images. It wasn't a murder, it was a slaughter. She could only have imagined what the killers would have done to her if she were there. Then she reminded herself that she was an assassin.
“If only I had been there..” she whispered under her breath to herself. So silent that the dry night air didn't even mock her words back at her like the siren.
A strange man walked down a fire escape just then. He had a hat on and an overcoat covering up his face. From the right angle he looked like her were a business man, but from the hooded woman's angle she could see who he truly was. A murderer. Her eagle sight pinpointed a revolver poking out from his right side upon a belt, and the leather gloves told her this man was a professional. No man wore that kind of leather gloves unless her were a taxi driver. A close enough look would show that the leather gloves had metal plates underneath covered by a thin layer of masking leather. Those gloves were meant to pulverize whatever it hit. Not to mention she noticed that he walked like a killer. Slowly and hunched over like a blood crazed maniac.
A woman came walking straight along the sidewalk across from where the lurking killer stood, his back against the wall. He was obviously well trained because any other thug would have walked right out of that alley and compromised their position. This man stood and waited. Like a lion waits among the tall grass before pouncing upon its prey. The cloaked woman couldn't bear the thought of this man killing another innocent person, even if this victim was a whore. All her memories of her husband came rushing forth, and her blood began to boil within her veins. She would kill this man before that woman even made it around the corner.
In a flash the cloaked women disappeared in the light of a lightning strike from her pedestal. She seemed to fly right towards the psychotic killer lurking in the alley. Jumping and leaping from one perch to another as gentle as a tom cat prowls among the night. A dagger flashed and a red stream clashed against the brick wall. Upon the ground laid a hunter who had become the prey, gurgling on his own blood. She had sliced him underneath his jugular veins and right through his throat leaving a gaping hole in his neck. He was dead within seconds of the attack. So was his killer.
Justice was made that day, if one would call it that. Some say vengeance is the sweetest taste of justice. Some say that it is a sin to kill, but she didn't care. One less murderer in this world meant that there would be more lives saved to live. People have told her before that she would go to hell, but what they don't realize is that she already has been there. Hell was nothing compared to the world that they all lived in. Back into the night she fled as a scream sounded behind her.
“If only I had been there..” she whispered under her breath to herself. So silent that the dry night air didn't even mock her words back at her like the siren.
A strange man walked down a fire escape just then. He had a hat on and an overcoat covering up his face. From the right angle he looked like her were a business man, but from the hooded woman's angle she could see who he truly was. A murderer. Her eagle sight pinpointed a revolver poking out from his right side upon a belt, and the leather gloves told her this man was a professional. No man wore that kind of leather gloves unless her were a taxi driver. A close enough look would show that the leather gloves had metal plates underneath covered by a thin layer of masking leather. Those gloves were meant to pulverize whatever it hit. Not to mention she noticed that he walked like a killer. Slowly and hunched over like a blood crazed maniac.
A woman came walking straight along the sidewalk across from where the lurking killer stood, his back against the wall. He was obviously well trained because any other thug would have walked right out of that alley and compromised their position. This man stood and waited. Like a lion waits among the tall grass before pouncing upon its prey. The cloaked woman couldn't bear the thought of this man killing another innocent person, even if this victim was a whore. All her memories of her husband came rushing forth, and her blood began to boil within her veins. She would kill this man before that woman even made it around the corner.
In a flash the cloaked women disappeared in the light of a lightning strike from her pedestal. She seemed to fly right towards the psychotic killer lurking in the alley. Jumping and leaping from one perch to another as gentle as a tom cat prowls among the night. A dagger flashed and a red stream clashed against the brick wall. Upon the ground laid a hunter who had become the prey, gurgling on his own blood. She had sliced him underneath his jugular veins and right through his throat leaving a gaping hole in his neck. He was dead within seconds of the attack. So was his killer.
Justice was made that day, if one would call it that. Some say vengeance is the sweetest taste of justice. Some say that it is a sin to kill, but she didn't care. One less murderer in this world meant that there would be more lives saved to live. People have told her before that she would go to hell, but what they don't realize is that she already has been there. Hell was nothing compared to the world that they all lived in. Back into the night she fled as a scream sounded behind her.