targetâ:
âBetter question, why the fuck are you trying to kill me?â She knows that it isnât a better question, and to be fair, the stab wound hurts like hell, but she can deal with that later. Right now sheâs more concerned about the blood currently oozing out of her torso and into the now completely ruined dress. Fuck. This couldnât have happened when she was wearing a hoodie or something?
Char pulls her jacket around to cover the wound before glaring at the woman, pleased at least to see the knife disappear. âIâm not the one with explaining to do, Little Miss Stabby. What the hell?â
    samira shrugged. sheâd been paid. but not enough to follow-through if her first attempt didnât do the job. she wet her lips and stuffed her hands in her pockets, brow furrowed. truthfully, this had never happened to her before. she was always very effective. sheâd never seen anything like this before. âsorry.â an apology. for ruining her dress. and for stabbing her. âsomeone paid me. you pissed âem off somehow, i dunno. call me little again though anâ youâre gonna have another hole in your dress.â       this was, decidedly, the weirdest job sheâd ever been on. she didnât even mind that she couldnât complete it. âwho are you, exactly? what are you? âve never seen anything like that before.â












