HELLO BEAUTIFUL

Postby evilgrin on 28 Dec 2005, 22:12

::TEN::

I have always killed alone. It comes with the job, I suppose. An assassin is solitary. Even with you, we have never killed while standing so close. With the one exception being the garotting of the guard at the McDermott compound. I was not myself.

To share a kill had never entered my mind, before this moment, as this evil man advanced on me, telling me in explicit detail all the horrible things he would do to me. He seemed to enjoy the talk of it as much as anything, perhaps he was accustomed to having that terrify and cow his victims. I continue to slip back into the depths of the corridor. He never once had the presence of mind to wonder why I was not afraid, why I didn’t plead for my life. Perhaps it’s a scenario he has played out so often in his head that the woman isn’t really a part in it anymore.

No matter. He’s come far enough down the corridor that I can watch as you uncoil behind him. I have only ever seen that face once before on you. That crushing blackness, devoid of emotion. At the time I had thought you would beat me to death, if given the chance. You would have, too, if you had not been drugged, and then pulled off of me. I had wondered, fleetingly, whether this was the last thing a person saw before you killed them.

It would be so easy now to kill him, your lovely gift already hidden in my palm, undetected, it’s blade sliding up past the bones in my wrist. As I look at your face, and it’s deadly hard beauty, I know that you will never be satisfied with me simply having killed him quickly, not after the things this man has said he would do to me. But I can see to it that he can’t use that knife on you.

I begin to slide over to my left, his oily eyes sliding over me as he gets closer, closer. I look to you, and the beasts within us both speak without speaking. We need no words for this. You make a deliberate noise behind him, startling him, a little. Just enough. The little knife strikes out, a glint of light in the darkness, seeking the nerves at the armpit that will render his knife arm useless.

A gasp of pain, no time to even register what he has felt, before we are circling him, a wolf pack of two.Your arm brushes mine as we circle, an almost sensual movement, neither of us pulling away as it happens, our arms slide over one another, our fingers touch, our eyes locked on one another, our intruder hardly matters at all.

I feel more than see your fist drive into his solar plexus. There will be no more sound from him. No more talk of mutilation and terror, of violation. Gasping, he’s struggling to breathe, as I swoop down, cutting the hamstring. No knife to use. No voice to call out for help, and no way to run, I leave him for you. Shivs are too quick, too clean, what happens next is brutal and painful and short. A display of brute power, over all too soon, as he lies broken at your feet.

We slip back into the shadows of the service tunnel, as though nothing has happened at all.