Athinar — Roleplayer Guild

	Josie's limo drove down the street, lights flashing past her windows at regularly spaced intervals. There was the smell of rain in the air, but the moon still poked through the heavy cloud cover, like a persistent, ever-watching eye. The mood outside the limo, on the streets, was tense, like it knew that either rain was about to fall or .... something else was going to happen, in a sudden torrent of violence. The news had most certainly picked up the news of the slaughter of the Steel Whips last month, and most people who were involved in street-level activities, gangs, police patrols, it didn't matter who, were wound up. Anxious. Uneasy. Which meant they would lash out with violence at the first provocation. Just the way she liked it. 

	The limousine that was transporting the Enigma Gang's head enforcer, was heading down to the docks. Apparently, some... thugs had captured a shipment that was pretty important to the Enigma establishing their presence in Lost Haven. With military-grade guns, crates of drugs, and cases full of unmarked bills, the shipment had almost made it into the dock, where a whole bunch of Enigma gangers were waiting, when it was intercepted by an unidentifiable fishing trawler, and when some guards had gone to check it out, the enemy gang members spilled out, overwhelming the guards of the shipment. Apparently, one had managed to escape into the harbor, and swim over to his comrades waiting for him on the dock. That's the only reason they even knew what was going on in the first place. When Byron gave the order for her to sort out the matter, Josie had her driver come over with haste. 

	As they pulled up to the pier, Josie could see the men gathered around the dock, some sitting, others staring at the cargo ship, but they all had one commonality. They were all nervous. When they were around Tall Byron, they were respectful. When they were talking to Bleeder Jack, they were almost reverent. 

	When they were around Josie, they were afraid. 

	Opening the door of the limo, and walking with purpose towards where Tall Byron was standing, Josie put on her hat stylishly, and winked at a nearby gang member, causing the beanie-wearing tough to gulp nervously. As she reached a cluster of people around Byron, the crowd parted, people pushing each other out of her way frantically. They didn't want her to get irritated with them. For when Josie was irritated, people lost fingers. When she was mad, they lost limbs. When she was furious?  

	They lost their lives. 

	Byron waved her over, and with a smirk on her face, Josie said, "So what do you need me all the way out here for?" The big man scowled, and with a long drag on his cig, and pointed out at the bay, specifically, at a small cargo ship, which had a fishing trawler pulled up next to it. 

	"Y'see, Jo, you already know what happened. All I need you to do is go over there, kill all of the other guys, and open the way for our guys to retrieve the cargo. Brent here-" He pointed at a scowling man wearing all denim, "Will pilot a speedboat alongside the starboard-aft end, and you will enter the ship, killing everyone within. Understand?" Josie nodded, and lit a fag of her on, and taking a deep breath, and then exhaling, she walked over to the boat, and sat in the passenger seat. With Byron jumping in the pilot's seat, in front of her, they sped off in the night, low hum of the engine and spray of saltwater under a sky with no stars. Rather, there were windows, each light, a life. How insignificant.

	When they reached the starboard-aft end of the boat, Josie created a blade, no wider than a wooden guard rail, like one would find at the side of a road, and stepped onto it. Flying up to the top deck, a member of the hijackers' crew, armed with an AK-47, fell backwards onto his ass, as he saw the mafia-themed metahuman flying up towards him. He was about to shout, but with a surge forward, Josie jumped off the blade, and let it fly into the man's windpipe, the blunt side of the metal crushing his throat. Landing on the deck of the ship, hands in her pockets, she crouched, ducking behind a crate, as a spotlight swung her way. The beam of light remained for a few seconds, before the operator shut it off, so it didn't attract the attention of the Navy Harbormaster. 

	Swiftly moving forward in the darkness, Josie sprinted towards the bridge, where the only light able to be seen was that of a guard's cigarette. Summoning a blade the width of a sword, Josie stabbed it through the glass, shattering it with a crash, and drove it through the guard's temple before he could even react. Summoning another one, the size of an axehead, she split the guard on top of the wheelhouse's head in two, as he turned towards her. She listened to the sound of their bodies dropping, and smiled. The thump was funny. 

	Walking towards the wheelhouse door, and kicking it in, bits of metal flying from the now-ruined lock, hands still in her pockets, Josie headed towards the hatch that, once opened, revealed a ladder, with about 12 steps, which led to belowdecks. The lights were on down here, and a single guard paced the hallway, smoking, gun on a sling around his shoulder. As Josie descended the ladder, the guard cursed, and fumbled with his gun. Smiling like a slasher from one of those bad horror movies, Josie simply stepped forward, hands in pockets. When he did manage to get the gun out from around his shoulder, she ducked down, as a spray of gunfire erupted from his rifle. Diving forward, before he could adjust his aim, Josie got in close, and summoning three small, curved knives, shaped like the talons of a bird of prey, stabbed the gang member, and grabbing the blades between her fingers, ripped them upwards, opening the man from bowels to chest. The spray of blood splashed over the front of her suit, and the scent of iron filled her nostrils. A little chuckle came out. The man had died so easily. 

	Stepping over the body, she could hear the muffled thumps and thuds of guards making their way to where Josie was, attracted by the gunfire. Summoning three blades, each about the size of a katana's edge, she languidly strolled through the corridor, blood painting the bulkheads and deck behind her. 

	The first gang member rounded the corner, and the carnage began, and it was terrible, and glorious.

	Anthony 'Shotgun' Reid was nervous. He had sent, like, twelve guys up there to see what was going on, and despite all of the gunfire and screaming, none of them had come back. Which left a few reasons. The police, tipped off somehow, a meta meddling in their business, or the Enigmas had come for their property. Anthony wasn't sure which terrified him more, as he sat there, huddled in the darkness of the cargo hold, surrounded by twenty-four of his guys. 

	He was wondering if one of his guys were finally coming back, when he heard footsteps from the doorway at the far end of the cargo bay. Hopefully sticking his head up, his expression became one of horror, as some... person, the blood covering... her? head to toe, and sloughing off of her, falling onto the ground in pools. One of his guys began to retch, and Anthony, now absolutely terrified, shouted, "Well, don't just stand there, WASTE HER!"

	At these words, the figure dashed forward, and about twenty knives appeared in front of her, rotating like a plane propeller, as they opened fire. Their bullets merely pinged off the many spinning swords, and she was among them, slashing, cutting, and shredding them, with those blades of hers. Men around her fell like wheat as she began to extend the area of the blades' rotation, as the gang members began to focus less on firing at her, and more on running away. They didn't get far. Mostly, the remaining ones who tried to run got chopped in half, or decapitated, but one got his right leg chopped off at the knee. 'Shotgun' Reid fell to the ground in agony and terror, covered in the blood of his friends. All he could do was writhe on the ground, in pain, as the woman stepped closer, a freakish smile on her face.

	Josie was enjoying herself. Humming a small tune, and smiling as she approached the gang's leader, enjoying his whimpers, as he desperately tried to crawl away, the Red Reaper stepped over the bodies, shoes getting soaked by the blood that would, in a few days, stain the floor. Shaking her head, and tut-tutting as if Anthony were a small child who needed reprimanding, Josie pinned him to the floor. By stabbing six-inch blades through his shoulders. Crying out in pain, the only thing Reid could now do was stare at Josie. 

	"Please... don't kill me... I got a kid brother..." Smirking, Josie crouched, getting close to Anthony's face. 

"I'll be sure to pay him a visit too, Mr. Reid." Anthony's face contorted in pain and fear, as Josie materialized a wicked-looking, strangely shaped blade, with hooks on the back end, meant to tear the flesh as it went in, and out. Laughing in the man's face, Josie thrust the knife in the man's shoulder, and went to town. 

	Later, as the LHPD would investigate the ship, they would find that an empty cargo ship was full of dead gang members, with no lead on who the killer was, for there were no security cameras, ship manifests, or data of any kind. DNA searches were useless, for nearly every deck, bulkhead, and square inch of the cargo bay was covered in blood and gore. The only nearly recognizable corpse was the gang's leader, a man named 'Shotgun' Reid, who had been found arranged in a position similar to that of a crucifixion, missing a leg, and half of his face, along with his chest cavity. Due to the lack of evidence, the police were left guessing, and chalked it up to a Nightmare killing. Who else would chop up people like that, and flense them afterward? It had to have been Nightmare. 

Right?
Athinar Member

Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
