✦ → ( closed starter for @bedlcm with dark!sel )
The new and improved Selina was making her mark
on the city of crime. Growing out of the juvenile scene, the girl fluctuated between unofficial and official employment with new clients. Assassin, torturer, messenger, whatever paid the best, she took up. It was the kind of job that kept heart pumping, hairs spiked up from paranoia and adrenaline. Selina reveled in pleasure -- dark mind clouded with even darker thoughts that fueled her chaotic actions. She had transformed into nothing but a mass of shadows and she loved it.
A trademark -- her trademark -- helped stimulate business.
After any killing, and after the occasional “interrogation,” she would drag sharpened claws through an eye or both eyes, leaving nothing but a shredded, bloody lump on some poor, unfortunate corpse. It was her thing -- the kitty had claws. A never-ending cat pun, sure, but Selina liked it. Gave her a sense of identity. Made her feel feared and loved all at once. A beautiful mess.
With all the money from jobs, Selina rented an apartment.
She still roamed around -- had to maintain the street rat reputation. And she hated the idea of being tied down to some shit hole every day and night. Her temporary residence was used to keep clothes dry and weapons tucked away. Necessity. It was on the further end of town too, harder to track down, unless you were really looking. That night, she pushed the door open with combat boots, nail filer in right hand, scrapping against the dead skin cells on her left. Gotta keep the babies sharp -- gotta keep business up.
A whistle resonated from wet, puckered lips, lids
sunken over tired eyes. She was ready to relax, ready to take off her blood soaked clothing and put her feel on the branch she called a coffee table. Two steps in. Knife anchored jacket pocket, she was sure it was stained from her previous job. Three steps in. There was a chill to the air. Feet stopped shuffling. Head was lifted, eyes wide. Someone was here. A sniff. Maybe a man, it smelled faintly like cologne and metal.
❝ Get out or I’ll have your corneas sliced. ❞