#spidertothefly

“The Devil whispers to me at night - it mocks me because I don’t have him by my side. And then… I wake up with a smile.”

The sense of hearing invaded by the loud calling of the church bells announcing the time of 1:00am, the Witching Hour as so many have called it through time and eras. A smile curled her red lips as she looked over to the ones trying to take over the docks in her city. A gold plated hand cannon she head in her hand aiming at the one gentleman in front of her as his Glock 9mm was aimed at her. A game of Russian roulette was at hand as Markus, Vincent and one other were standing around, guns held high at the others. How she hated when men came into her territory believing that since she was a woman, she was weak as a babe. Oh how they foolish think.

“As I said I am not afraid to get my hands dirty, my dear,” her voice soft and raspy. Did he truly believe she was backing down?  Oh how she hoped he did believe that on one hand. “Shall we flip a coin as to who shall fire first?” She asked as Markus pulled a coin from his pocket tossing it over and over in the air.

“Heads.” The one man said brining his knuckles up under his chin, clinching the tips of his fingers on to his red tie; pulls it loose and undoes the first top bottom of his crisp white shirt. He overlooks her face in his snarling and quenching a set of sapphire irises onto his and looks around at the men staring, stepping in, heads poking up over others as they walk on by. He looks down, sets his sights on to the alligator skinned shoes that were standing his ground from in each one of his breaths then slides his right hand in to his pant pocket, swings out a coin and tosses it up ion to the air saying, “Call it.”

Laughter escapes her lips before she speaks. “I am not going to use your coin, Donovan. How do I know that it isn’t a double sided coin with just your portrait?” Irises scanning the darkness around the man in front of her waiting for a surprise but nothing…as of yet…sense of hearing being invaded by the simplest of things but her sapphire hues were on the man before her…magazine pages being flipped as the driver of Donavan’s black car was paying no attention to the crowd standing before him.

“I call Tails, mon cher,” her voice strong but laced with its normal raspy confidence. The urge to pull the trigger was strong with Donovan as his finger twitched and a smirk curved the corners of her lips. The crowd standing in behind him stood in silence, the money they had lost has them now in a lost themselves and the hunger for reimbursement and gratitude is beginning to overwhelm unlike the feeling that possesses their player.

Silver sparkles in the light of the moon as the coin dances in the air…everyone waiting to see what it lands on. Sounds of the coin hitting the ground echo into the night sky as it is finally revealed.

Heads.

Icy sapphire hues never leave his darker ones as Donavan’s lips curl into a smile, no expression on the spider’s face. She stands there waiting for the familiar sound of the soft caress of the forefinger over the trigger but all she heard was emptiness…and her lips curled into a wicked grin. Donavan’s expression was that of shock and despair as reality hit him. His gun was empty but how?

“Oh, you should pay your men more, Donavan then they would be loyal to you.” She spoke as two others step in behind the man in the dark blue suit, each grabbing a hold of his arm as he stares at her…fear in his eyes as he knows what is to happen next. “Never did you have sanctuary…never did you belong…and now you will look at nothing,” her final words fell on his deaf ears as she fired her hand cannon. Blood splattering onto the men holding him, “get rid of him and the others then clean it up.” She ordered before turning her back listening to the explosive sounds of gunfire as she walks back to the car.