Lived long enough to become the villain
Leave ‘Lived long enough to become the villain’ to get a glimpse of my muse being a villain.
The ginger ran a hand through the buzzed underside of her hair, surveying the mess with a disdainful expression. She sighed, cracking the joints in her knuckles and neck before rolling her shoulders. Gods, she was tense…
She bent down, collecting the knives from the first nameless bastard she’d gotten through the chest, and cleaned them on his shirt before slipping them into the sheaths strapped to her body. The straps were uncomfortable as hell; if they were too tight she couldn’t breathe, if they were loose the weapons pulled down against them and bruised her skin.
"In all honesty," She said to the second corpse, removing a hatchet from his nervous system and chuckling while he twitched violently. "I’m surprised you lot were so easy." She frowned.
"I thought you were s’pposed to be the best. I’m quite disappointed with you." She sighed, adjusting the buckles under her ribs and leaning down to pick up her dropped trenchcoat, sliding it on and hiding the weapons easily. It covered the tattoos, as well, the identifying feature of the ‘Masked Assassin’ as they’d so affectionately dubbed her.
The mask modeled after the sky god’s skull slid off quite easily as she exited the elevator, slipping casually into the bag she kept over her shoulder.
She studied the flashdrive in her hands as the wind from the building’s implosion sucked her hair and coat towards it. Nothing was much of a challenge, anymore….
