Summary:Two killers walk into a warehouse… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Tonight's target was another stash house. They were a pretty good target for Laura. Decent amounts of cash, and she could get drugs off the streets. Plus, eliminate the scumbags who used said drugs to control people. And so she crouched on the rooftop of the three story building, half mask pulled up over her mouth, hair tied back in a pony tail, wearing anonymous dark clothing.
The guard change happened on time as usual, and Laura waited a few more moments for the relieved man to settle down inside. Twin claws slide out between the knuckles of her right hand, and she steps off the rooftop directly above the replacement. Her feet impact his shoulders with a snap of collarbones, and he just manages a grunt of pain before the claws slip into his brain. One down, Twelve more to go.
Inside, it was shaping up to be a real party. The boys were celebrating a deal worth a cool five million, and they had lucked out when they picked up the white chick. She had that real Morticia Addams vibe to her, but she was hot. She had that touch of the exotic in her face, like some old scuplture Manny had seen in a book once,,,before he dropped out at the age of 15 and realized where the REAL money was.
The woman said she was good for a little private time with Manny, but he knew there was enough of her to go around. The boys were used to sloppy seconds, anyway. And thirds, and fourths…
He figured she would be good for a few hours.
He smiled to the boys as they checked their weapons and counted the money. "Be right back, boys. Me 'n Morticia are going to go to the back to deal with my Herman Munster."
Dr. Michelle Morbius smiled, ruby lips gleaming as they stepped into the dingy office, being they were two different shows. He could be forgiven for the little faux pas.
It's not like he was going to make any more…
It smells pretty bad in here, But Laura's been in worse places. Following the smell of mildew stronger than the rest of the house leads her to the basement, where it's a fairly easy matter to cut the lock on the breaker box and cut the power. A quick slice takes off the toggle switch to ensure it /stays/ cut, and the teen fades into the shadows again. Whoever comes to check on things is going to have a nasty surprise. It's not like she needs the light anyway.
Manny looks up as the lights go out. "What the fuh…?" He looks to the door. "YO! GET THE LIGHTS BACK ON!"
Four men flip on the flashlights for their rifles and shotguns and head down to the main floor and to where the breaker box was.
Manny looked down as he felt her slim and sure hands pulling his pants down, taking his boxers with them. "Now…where were we?"
Then the emergency lights flicked on and he saw the long, white fangs in that demonic smile, the eyes so red they seemed to glow.
"GETTING A DRINK."
She rose up and fell upon him.
The other guys still watching heard the thud, then the rhythmic thumping, and Carlos chuckled. "Sounds like someone's ridin' someone GOOD."
Laura remains in her nook under the staircase as the door opens and feet come pounding down the stairs. Four's more than she was expecting, but it'll work. She takes advantage of the noise to pop the rest of her claws, the toe ones sliding out through the already existing slits in the toes of her sneakers. They cluster around the breaker panel, arguing in confusion about what the fuck was wrong with the switch. Now.
She steps forward, sneakers nearly silent on the floor, and buries her claws in the closest thug's back. One through the spinal cord, the other in the lung. He drops like a sack of bricks, a wet cough escaping his lips along with a trickle of blood. One of the three around the panel turns, his face paling at the scene before him. "Holy fu-" He's cut off by a clawed kick to the skull, and the battle begins in earnest. Upstairs, a few gunshots could be heard along with screams, followed by silence.
Manny can't seem to breathe. The woman has her teeth buried in his throat, and the wet sounds mean something…something is WRONG, but he has enough time to realize what is happening before he descends into whatever Hell is reserved for drug-dealing murderers.
The door bangs open as Carlos rushes in. "Manny! I'm sorry, but…"
He was going to say he had sent the other guys to see what was happening, that something was horribly wrong outside, only to realize that something was ALSO horribly wrong INSIDE.
The pale woman's skin was flushing pink, losing that Morticia pallor, but the fangs were still very white, the delicate nails having transformed into talons. She hissed at him, and he had to choose. Fight, or run?
One look at those glowing crimson orbs and he chose to run. Oddly enough, he made it out. Michelle was still trying to control the ecstasy flowing through her entire body. The second time was as exquisite as the first…
Well, after that, she doubts anyone else is going to be coming into the basement. Laura takes just long enough to jab a claw through the critical working parts of each gun, before making her way back upstairs. She's rather significantly more bloodsoaked than before, but fortunately black doesn't show stains.
As she ascends, she starts to smell something over the normal stench of drug houses. Something… wrong. That will have to be figured out later, though. Six people in the next room, lots of screaming and the smell of panic and adrenaline. And the basement team didn't even close the door. The teen smiles under her mask. Oh, she's going to enjoy this.
She comes in fast and hard. Number one loses both his arms and has his achilles tendon severed. Two and three spin around and open fire, but she's already among them even as the bullets slam into her body. Her claws cleave through their guns just as easily as their flesh, and they're down too. Four starts to run, but takes a thrown table lamp to the back of the skull. She's pretty sure she heard his neck snap on the doorframe. Five goes high and Laura goes low, sliding on her knees between his legs and slashing both of the arteries there. Six, however, gets a moment's reprieve. He's held off the ground by his throat, bloody claw points an inch from his eyes. "Talk. Tell me where the other stashes are, and I'll let you live.
Carlos is beyond reason. Blind panic is currently squatting in his brain, trashing the place, and paying no rent. All he can do is look over his shoulder. "Monster! Fucking puta monster! Lemme go you bitch! I'm getting the FUCK outta this madhouse!"
Then a playful, seductive voice, one full of dark sensual promise. "Oh, Carrrrr-loooos…come on up. I *neeed* you…"
And now Blind Panic has opened an account with the local liquour store and is hosting a party in Carlos' head. "LEMME FUCKING GOOOO!"
Laura shrugs. "You had your chance." *shunk* *thud*
When the door to the back room opens, it reveals a dark-haired teenager who reeks of blood with an additional metallic tang. Her clothes are riddled with bulletholes, but there don't seem to be any in the skin underneath. And, of course, the claws. She tilts her head to one side, staring at Michelle. This… seems to be the source of the weird smell.
Michelle moves into view at the top of the stairs like the angel of death she has become.
Long, black hair, A face with those telltale cheekbones found in Greek sculpture. Skin the color of porcelain, with a little more pink in it. Fangs that jut almost an inch from her jaws, but are almost imperceptibly receding. Rich crimson eyes regard Laura with curiosity, a reserved interest instead of OMGWTFPOPCLAWS! She is dressed in black leather and latex, and the first impression is Selene from the UNDERWORLD movies. But she has no guns…and apparently doesn't need them.
"I do so hope you are not with them," she says, in that same husky come-hither voice.
Laura looks over her shoulder to the carnage behind her, before looking back up at Michelle and raising an eyebrow. She shifts her weight, lifting one foot at a time so the toe claws can retract. "There was one more. Did he have any intelligence, or say where they were keeping the money?" Her tone is serious, but also somewhat matter of fact. Clearly, this isn't an odd situation.
She WAS handling this suspiciously well. It was interesting, in a purely clinical point of view. The claws were interesting too. Some kind of implants?
"I believe they were talking about it being in some floor safe. I haven't bothered to look for it myself. But…I doubt he will be much more forthcoming than that. And as you have killed his lieutenant…" She pronounces it "leftenant." "…I doubt he will tell you much, either."
Laura shrugs again. "Floor safe helps." Her nostrils flare, head tilting to one side as she starts tracking the scents of the various gang members. And the scent of drugs as well. Logically, it should be the strongest at the safe. "Don't have enough time for an interrogation anyway. Someone will have called the cops about the gunshots." She flips over a chair and peels back the rug to reveal the safe, leaning down to press her ear against it. Time to crack this.
In spite of herself, she is drawn to this girl. She's unusual to say the least, but she is also quite capable in a fight. More so than Michelle, who has had to resort to guile and subterfuge. She watches, curious, but says nothing for the moment. Such a task requires silence, of course.
The last tumbler clicks into place, and the safe swings open. Laura wipes her hands off on one of the cleaner spots left on the chair, and starts stuffing money into her slim backpack. "I haven't seen you before." The tone is matter-of-fact, as if she's not kneeling in blood.
Morbius tilts her head. "I am…a recent arrival…from Eastern Europe."
She hasn't brushed up too much on her vampire fiction, so she misses the reference she made.
"But it seems only fitting since I have not seen YOU before. Is this how you look after yourself? Killing criminals and taking their money?"
"They were selling to kids. They deserved it." Laura grits her teeth a bit, increasing the pace of money-shoving. She doesn't really /need/ it, but not having to dip into her bug-out bags is good. "I do what other people can't."
Michelle chuckles slightly. "That…was rather obvious from the moment I saw you. Unless there are a lot of people with medical-grade cybernetic implants running around town…in which case, I *truly* have much to learn about New York City." She tilts her head. "Sirens. If they are not merely passing by, they will be here shortly."
"Not cybernetic." Laura finishes and zips up her backpack, before tossing a stack of bills to Michelle. "You never saw me here." She unlocks and opens the window, climbing out onto the fire escape.
She looks at the packaged bills, then reads the paper band around it. $5000. New hundreds, as well.
She shrugs and pockets it. It will make a nice souvenir of this strange night.
She heads towards the door they came in, moving quickly to the subway entrance. Right now, it seemed like a good idea to…"
Laura saw a police officer apporach the woman, speaking to her quietly. "Ma'am, may I see some ID? We've had a report about gunshots."
The woman takes out a slim ID holdder, then opens it and holds it up for the cop. He suddenly blinks, his wary posture becoming almost obseqious. "Oh! Hello, doctor. I didn't recognize you in that…getup."
She looks heavenward. "A late party, and I got lost. I think my Uber driver is going to get a 1-star rating. I was planning to take the subway home."
The cop nods. "Okay, then. Be careful, Dr. Morbius, this is a very dangerous place."
She nods and waves to him. "Thank you, officer."
And then she is gone.