Post by occasionallyinsane on Sept 22, 2006 12:45:46 GMT -5
Maggie poked her head into the vast church, a pair of Rayban sunglasses almost dangling off the edge of her brown nose. She, for once, wore her black hair down. Her face was hard: her full lips pursed and her chocolate eyes shadowed.
"Hola?," She called. "Anyone here?"
An answer didn't come. Of course it wouldn't--there were no services on Mondays, and so the church would be empty.
Maggie sighed and swept off her sunglasses, shoving them into the canvas bag dangling from her right arm. The roof, Giovanni said...I guess I should go ahead and get up there. Chances are the old man's waiting for me.
And that was exactly what the woman did, walking over to the wrought iron staircase that led to the roof. Maggie reminded herself to be careful--although the church was steepleless, the front was littered with decorative buttresses that were extremely slippery when wet. The tan-skinned woman strode with grace and purpose up the stairs, to the roof.
...
A man was indeed waiting for her.Two, actually. The taller one was tall, with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, a gruff yet handsome face, and flinty grey eyes that softened a tiny bit when Maggie came into veiw. He apperead to be in his mid forties, but had the reflexes of a much younger man.
His companion was far less intimidating. In contrast to the gray-haired man, he had shaggy brown hair in dire need of a good trim. He looked neverous, his dull bluish-blackish eyes darting from corner to corner, from face to face. This was obviously common in him, for the first man told him, in a deep, commanding voice. "Calm down, Pepoli. Magdalena is a friend, you know that."
The mousy-haired man nodded silenty, but held his supcious manner.
Maggie smiled at the elder man, clapping his shoulder with one tanned hand. "Giovanni...how are you?"
Giovanni chuckled. "I'm forever better when I see you, M'dear, but I'm afriad the old left leg is acting up. Nothing too bad. So you have finished off Crolkin?" He replied, gently tugging on one lock of her dark hair.
The woman nodded, while Pepoli shot her almost jealous looks. "Yes. Yes, I did. His guards were no problem. I sent one to their maker, and the others to the hospital."
The gray-haired man smiled, his flinty eyes twinkling. "Well done, Magdalena. I doubt even myself could of done better." Suddenly he pushed her away from him. Maggie was so starled she took a step back. nearing the building's ledge. "And that brings us to the reason for our meeting."
Pepoli gave an unpleasant grin and moved, with a heavily shuffling gait, over to the other man.
Maggie spoke, and fought trembling as Giovanni fixed her with his steel gaxe. "O-oh? And what reason would that be?" Her accent was thick, as it always was when she was frightened.
"It has come to my attention that in the last month you have killed 15 people. That is astounding. Too astounding. You're driving business away from my children and myself."
Maggie cursed herself for her stupidity. It was an old mob trick--lure competition into your service, then kill them before they got to successful. And she had fallen for it. "So? Listen, Giovanni, I can be an asset. If you could only--"
The man sighed. "I cannot risk it. I like you, Magdalena. I really do. But leaving you is a risk I cannot take. Goodbye."
Maggie jammed a hand into her bag and drew Esmeralda, but before she could even aim, two small-caliber bullets lodged themselves in her stomach. In a year or two, she would have been a match for Giovanni. But not now...and now it was too late to learn anything. Redness flooded Maggie's vision. She let off two shots blindly, and heard a hiss of pain from Giovanni. She wouldn't know it, but she her last shot had grazed his ailing leg.
A return shot came. More pain in Maggie's abdomen. And suddenly the sensation of falling, of landing on something solid but not hard. The recycling dumpster, full of cardboard, plastic and glass bottles.Something poked her in the hollow behind her black-clad knee. More blood. Maggie's vision cleared enough so that she could just see Giovanni's tall form leaning over the edge. More shots. Pain in her battered, shot, bleeding torso. Giovanni talking, saying something. Words in schunks. Huntress...dead...others...home...before...come...
The tap of boots on concerete as Pepoli and Giovanni left. Left Maggie to die, laying atop broken glass and plastic and cardboard and her own blood.
Thinking hurt. So this is what death feels like...did I ever do this to anyone? No, no...wish I could see my family...wish I'd told them...wish I'd been smarter, faster...wish...wish...
Maggie kept wishing, until her eyes closed and she was enclosed in blackness, so diffrent from the bright vivid red of before. But the Huntress was not yet dead. She only wished she was.
((Hey...anyone can join. I really only made this 'cause I was bored...^^ I like it though.))
"Hola?," She called. "Anyone here?"
An answer didn't come. Of course it wouldn't--there were no services on Mondays, and so the church would be empty.
Maggie sighed and swept off her sunglasses, shoving them into the canvas bag dangling from her right arm. The roof, Giovanni said...I guess I should go ahead and get up there. Chances are the old man's waiting for me.
And that was exactly what the woman did, walking over to the wrought iron staircase that led to the roof. Maggie reminded herself to be careful--although the church was steepleless, the front was littered with decorative buttresses that were extremely slippery when wet. The tan-skinned woman strode with grace and purpose up the stairs, to the roof.
...
A man was indeed waiting for her.Two, actually. The taller one was tall, with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, a gruff yet handsome face, and flinty grey eyes that softened a tiny bit when Maggie came into veiw. He apperead to be in his mid forties, but had the reflexes of a much younger man.
His companion was far less intimidating. In contrast to the gray-haired man, he had shaggy brown hair in dire need of a good trim. He looked neverous, his dull bluish-blackish eyes darting from corner to corner, from face to face. This was obviously common in him, for the first man told him, in a deep, commanding voice. "Calm down, Pepoli. Magdalena is a friend, you know that."
The mousy-haired man nodded silenty, but held his supcious manner.
Maggie smiled at the elder man, clapping his shoulder with one tanned hand. "Giovanni...how are you?"
Giovanni chuckled. "I'm forever better when I see you, M'dear, but I'm afriad the old left leg is acting up. Nothing too bad. So you have finished off Crolkin?" He replied, gently tugging on one lock of her dark hair.
The woman nodded, while Pepoli shot her almost jealous looks. "Yes. Yes, I did. His guards were no problem. I sent one to their maker, and the others to the hospital."
The gray-haired man smiled, his flinty eyes twinkling. "Well done, Magdalena. I doubt even myself could of done better." Suddenly he pushed her away from him. Maggie was so starled she took a step back. nearing the building's ledge. "And that brings us to the reason for our meeting."
Pepoli gave an unpleasant grin and moved, with a heavily shuffling gait, over to the other man.
Maggie spoke, and fought trembling as Giovanni fixed her with his steel gaxe. "O-oh? And what reason would that be?" Her accent was thick, as it always was when she was frightened.
"It has come to my attention that in the last month you have killed 15 people. That is astounding. Too astounding. You're driving business away from my children and myself."
Maggie cursed herself for her stupidity. It was an old mob trick--lure competition into your service, then kill them before they got to successful. And she had fallen for it. "So? Listen, Giovanni, I can be an asset. If you could only--"
The man sighed. "I cannot risk it. I like you, Magdalena. I really do. But leaving you is a risk I cannot take. Goodbye."
Maggie jammed a hand into her bag and drew Esmeralda, but before she could even aim, two small-caliber bullets lodged themselves in her stomach. In a year or two, she would have been a match for Giovanni. But not now...and now it was too late to learn anything. Redness flooded Maggie's vision. She let off two shots blindly, and heard a hiss of pain from Giovanni. She wouldn't know it, but she her last shot had grazed his ailing leg.
A return shot came. More pain in Maggie's abdomen. And suddenly the sensation of falling, of landing on something solid but not hard. The recycling dumpster, full of cardboard, plastic and glass bottles.Something poked her in the hollow behind her black-clad knee. More blood. Maggie's vision cleared enough so that she could just see Giovanni's tall form leaning over the edge. More shots. Pain in her battered, shot, bleeding torso. Giovanni talking, saying something. Words in schunks. Huntress...dead...others...home...before...come...
The tap of boots on concerete as Pepoli and Giovanni left. Left Maggie to die, laying atop broken glass and plastic and cardboard and her own blood.
Thinking hurt. So this is what death feels like...did I ever do this to anyone? No, no...wish I could see my family...wish I'd told them...wish I'd been smarter, faster...wish...wish...
Maggie kept wishing, until her eyes closed and she was enclosed in blackness, so diffrent from the bright vivid red of before. But the Huntress was not yet dead. She only wished she was.
((Hey...anyone can join. I really only made this 'cause I was bored...^^ I like it though.))
