flashback
dcntcluciano:
closed starter for @opheliastjames
They called her the Black Widow for a reason. When assigned a hit, the blonde completed the job with no issues, on time and always provided evidence of the hit. Her name was legend in the criminal underworld and had even caught the attention of one Dante Luciano. Being a former hitman himself, Dante was intrigued by her technique and even used his high ranking position to view the crime scenes first hand – when they were made available; he understood some murders were more than likely cleaned after by the Cleaner – another woman he admired. After a few spilled rumors about the Black Widow, Dante had to have a taste if only it was once. With his own power, Dante got the information on her whereabouts – a hit she was hired for.
Walking up the stairs of the hotel she used, Dante’s hand grazed the glock strapped to his waist, hidden by his black suit jacket. Protection was always a necessity in his industry and even more so when face to face with a legendary professional killer. Walking through the door, Dante silently moved in the suite, spotting the woman as her target was on the ground, begging for his life.
Without a sound, Dante stood, shoulder leaned against the wall while he watched in anticipation.
Ophelia liked working alone, and she liked working in silence. Sometimes, she’d hum Marriage of Figaro under her breath, a habit her father left with her when he kicked the bucket. She kicked the body that lay writhing before her, finger on her lips as she stared with dead eyes into this man’s soul. “Shut up, or this will go in a very different direction.” She’s still new at the art of killing, still working the kinks of her system. A year into this job, and she found herself liking it, but not understanding it. It would have been so much easier to just bury lead into this guy’s brain and call it a night, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t paid to shoot. She was paid to create art on this tarp.
There was a creak, like a door had just opened and closed. The hairs on the neck stood up, and Phe was frozen in fear. Who else would have known where she was unless...No, highly unlikely someone just guessed. Her employer had assured her that this was private. Maybe she had misheard something, because the man before her wouldn’t stop moving and making all of that sound. “Shut up!” She kicked him harder, anger on her features.
After that, everything went quiet. Just the way Phe liked it. And she unfurled her tools of trade, admiring their pristine and imagining how beautiful they’ll look. “Now...where do we begin?” She knelt before the figure, a smile on her face.
