her breath hitches tight in her throat at how SPECTRE began to prowl; subtle movements, bodies lain about like SCARLET ornaments across cement, simple trinkets to the room. even his men they meant nothing to him. she had a code a single code. save everyone you can. know there will be lives lost but somehow, this all still felt like blood oozing through the webbing of her fingers an unstoppable waterfall. but he was right; hell’s kitchen had access many cities didn’t. the harbor alone was one and a KING PIN that was able to pull strings for all his puppeteers and sweeping anything beneath the rug was another; not only was he hiding the bloodshed of her own family, but these girls too. fisk knew they had to be hand in hand, working together god, she could see it now. both of the men LAUGHING with a cigar between their lips. smiling like the kings they were
the mental image caused her fists to clench, her stance to grow rigid and the anger only BREWING furthermore in her veins. this wasn’t a confrontation that could be stopped with a single battle. this was a war she was going to have to fight, a war she was going to have to end herself LITTLE KITTEN, OH LITTLE KITTEN. it’s ringing in her ears now, the faint smell of nicotine clouding her nostrils. gaze flickers between the bodies once more as he continued to spew words, and then i have a taste for myself.
their gaze locked; cold eyes meeting bright blue, just as that smartphone let out a bloodcurdling SHRIEK; it ricochets, a howling echo through the warehouse that caused the anger in her blood to suddenly run COLD. silver spreads across her spine, fists clenching tighter to hide the tremble in her hands.
DO YOU SEE THIS, LITTLE KITTEN?
forcing her teary eyes to the ceiling, forcing herself to breathe knowing that POOR GIRL who was SHRILLING her pretty little lungs out, hardly had a chance even though it was all out of anastasia’s control, her lids flutter and she sucked her teeth all too sharply.
finally, FINALLY, anastasia looked to the smartphone in his calloused hand; brows knitting with worry beneath that mask, rosy lips pursing tight. the duct tape how ill she appeared, ghastly white and hardly able to move a violent tremor in her bones, and her face sticky with salted tears.
that’s when she stepped closer, over a corpse with her fist still hovering the billyclubs strapped tight to her right thigh. lips slow to part, those big oceanic eyes flicker between the screen and his own.
“ so she steals. so she slashes tires. she’s not killing people. ” anastasia WHISPERED, making sure he was going to LISTEN, even if her pearly teeth were barred like a WOLF. “ i like breaking hearts, too. i like to break bones, i like to watch men tremble in fear beneath me. what are you gonna do about it? ” head cocks to the right; a CHALLENGE. grin still wolfish, it was quick to fade as he breathed out a single command, and the ROAR of a chainsaw making its debut. no. NO. NONONONO
“ WAIT. ” her voice cracks in desperation, the woman panicking on the screen her shrieks of horror RIPPING between them. she doesn’t hesitate; no second thought or mental debate it’s INSTANTANEOUS.
“ mine. my life. shoot me. ” she knew what would happen, her secret exposed for him to know so lips purse to hide the hopeful smile itching at her dimples.
“ right between the eyes. ”
Ahhh the sweet solemnity of valor. Valor being synonymous with foolish and reckless ------ There’s nothing in the world that would sway him into offering his life on a platter for the sake of anybody on god’s green earth, much less someone who is, in every sense of the word, a stranger. He sucked his teeth ( intaking a small plume of tobacco ) and quirked a brow as if brandishing his dissonance. He says something else in Russian and the chainsaw stops revving. There’s a short reprieve, with only the muffled noise of heavy breathing and sniveling from the other end of the call. ❛ Mm. That’s something I never understood, about you vigilante types, ❜ he laughs. It’s raspy with years of cigarettes singed into his larynx. ❛ Putting your head on the chopping block willingly. And for what? The merit of saving one meager life that is of no consequence to yours? ❜
But there is one aspect he could resonate with. Risk. Though Vladimir is one for routine and vast, intricate preparation, a little hedonism went a long way. Beyond that, even. Counting his blessings and reaping the ambrosia that came with reward, there is nothing quite like it ------ Heroism and hedonism however are two very different things. ❛ Before this backwater shitshow really took off, I worked for Russian espionage; Loyal to whoever paid ex-soldiers the most, that was just how it was post-war. As a soldier you are taught to see the world in black and white. There is only you & your comrades, and the enemy. In other words, good and bad. Brotherhood and lack of mercy. You are trained to understand that these are polar opposites and there can only be one crowned victorious. But I was a sniper ------ It was my job to observe, to learn the enemy’s every move as if they were my own. Through the scope you come to realise, that gap is in fact a very thin line. ❜
He feels eyes on him. Eyes like cattle prods dotting his skin with jolts of electricity, her anger and his excitement. It’s true that bravery is not the absence of fear but the ability to stare it in the face while accepting one’s own mortality, and for that she does at least win his albeit fleeting admiration. ❛ It’s what made me good at what I do. To overcome, you understand. You assimilate. It’s never in black and white. I learned a very long time ago that intentions are never pure, and nobody does anything for free, even if it’s what they enjoy telling themselves in order to shed a guilty conscience. Nobody, not even you little Koshka, is hellbent on sacrificing themselves for somebody so far from their heart. ❜
Marlboro wedged between teeth he fits a magazine into his Glock 22. He’ll humor her if only for a moment, pointing the barrel between her eyes. Smoke trailed out of Vladimir’s nostrils as he takes a long drag then discards the cigarette butt in a pool of blood at his feet. He always has that look, that complacent look that gave the all-too-ominous impression he knew something scathing or worse. ❛ So by giving me permission to lodge a bullet in your skull, I presume this isn’t you allowing me to end your life here and now. Not when you have come so far. Sorry Kotenok, but I don’t buy it. ❜
Binary code. Human nuance. Both could be deciphered. ❛ You say I am sick. I disagree. ❜ The barrel points now at her right knee, and he doesn’t hesitate ------ With an ear-splitting BANG a 9mm tears through the space separating them. ❛ I just enjoy watching men, and women, tremble also. But not as much as I enjoy the money I get from it. So I suppose you could say, there too is a thin line that differentiates you and me. ❜ She’ll hate that and it’s the precise reason he says it. ❛ I couldn’t watch you break if you’re dead. Everyone’s a winner, eh? ❜
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