The Fury

The day began like any other for Emma Rose. Awaking from a dreamless, restless sleep she groaned and mumbled a few choice words. She found herself in her apartment in the lower-class side of town, lying on her rather misshapen bed with the sheets all knotted and the covers kicked somewhere across the alcove that was her excuse for a proper bedroom, dressed in a sleeveless top and boxers. On a good day, the harsh glare of the morning sun would soar in through the smog-befouled window that opened up onto the street below her tenement and stab her right in her groggy eyes. On a bad day, the muted greyness of an overcast dawn would only dare her to stay in bed.

Despite what kind of day it was, she would curse the sun, curse the window, and then curse herself for having staid up as late as she did the night before. Then, and only then, would she drag herself into an upright position, stretch her arms and legs, mouth gaping in a rather impressive yawn as her joints popped and muscles strained in protest. That done, she got up, and decided to get moving. After all, she reasoned, she got out of the damn bed. Might as well make something of the day! Her day wasn't much, really. She didn't really go to school, having dropped out two years ago around the age sixteen. Her parents, or what excuses she was cursed with, had attempted to keep her cooped up in some public school. School, however, did not mix well with Emma. Prone to fighting, and always blowing off homework, she had caused only headaches at home. Finally, her parents, seeing no alternative, sent Emma to live with a distant relation outside of Jump City. When her welcome was worn out there too, Emma was granted the right to stay at her own place in the city itself, provided that Social Services kept an eye on her. Yes, she didn't have school, but her craptastic - rated abode did have to be paid for. She had a job at an auto garage as a mechanic, being more mechanically inclined than anything else. The pay was alright, but the hours were tantamount to torture. She wasn't a morning person, and hardly felt like working into the wee hours of the evening, either. In the end, she put up with it, deeming the hardship necessary.

To make up for it, though, she did things on the side. For a while, she had fought in the hidden underground blood pits and fighting gangs. That had served to curb her need to periodically re-arrange someone's face the hard way without consequences, but hadn't done anything for her bottom line. Other odd jobs, where her rather remarkable strength and fighting prowess came into play, had come along. Noting too shady, though, because of the deep trouble she'd be in with the SS people. In fact, her current gig was serving as a bouncer at some two-bit grill and pub at the end of the block she lived on. She knew the place well, having been a regular for some time. The owner, a rather respectable old cuss, who went by the name Jeremiah Biggs, thought she might like the job. Biggs' Bite and Drought was known for being a particularly rowdy joint after ten at night, so she was never bored for long.

Today, she had work, and then she'd pop over to the Bite and Drought. She showered as best she could in what would pass for her bathroom, and threw on the least oil-mucked work uniform she had. Torn jeans, a white tank top, and her favorite workboots. The kind with steel-toes, the better for kicking ass. She stopped before the mirror that hung on the wall beside the door, cracked somewhat and a bit dirty. She appraised herself, her tall, strong physique. Her respectable muscles, her reason for wearing as few sleeves as possible. Her short, clean, but rarely styled hair. Her brown eyes, hard and never backing down. Her lips broke into a wild, confident grin as she winked at herself. She reached for the handle to open the door and head out. To her surprise, someone on the other side knocked. Immediately, she was set on edge, wary. She had next to no friends in the city, and never expected visitors. Emma grit her teeth, fists clenching and unclenching. Probably some damn fool looking to ransack the place, thinking some sorry-ass drug addict lives here... I'll show them! Her left hand settled on the door and twisted, opening the door as soon as the latch disengaged. Her other hand, balled into a formidable fist, was already in motion.

To her surprise, a man in a black suit was standing on the other side of the door, and had already stepped to the side, avoiding her hasty pre-emptive attack. He quirked an eyebrow, and inquired in a low tone, "Is this how you always answer the door?"

A little perturbed, and very much caught off guard, Emma brought her fists up. "Who the fuck are you, pal?"

The man was unaffected by her terseness. He went on to ask, "Are you Emma Rose, the talented young woman who does the occasional odd job for hire? And, I hear, who fights in the Pit Viper Grand Melee as Fury?"

"Yeah, that's me! What's it to ya?!" Emma retorted, covering her surprise with a burst of outrage. The man smiled, slightly, and said, "To me, it is of the utmost importance. I come with another 'odd job' for you, Miss. Rose. As I understand it, your pretty good in a fight. Is this correct?"

Emma was really getting pissed off, now. If the sneer on her face was any indication, she was mere seconds away from seriously fucking this guy up. "What, you want a demonstration or something?! I'd be happy to use you as a dummy..."

The man actually smiled all the more, "No need to get so physical, ma'am. I must know if your as good as all the hype. But, if your only going to answer me with threats and insults, that must mean you are not interested. Too bad, as people will begin to think that you are afraid. I understand completely, and I shall have to go and look elsewhere for someone with the proper steel this job requires..."

That's it! Emma grabs the guy by the front of his suit, and shouts practically in his face, "Fury is never afraid, asshole! Tell me about your fucking job, and I might just do it for ya!"

The man replied, "Well, that's the attitude I was expecting from you, Fury. If you'd kindly release me, I'll inform you of the specifics." Emma obliged him, taking a step back with arms folded under her chest, she waited until the guy had straightened his suit's front and cleared his throat. "Now, down to business. I represent a certain organization within the city, a collection of influential businessmen and merchants who would rather not be revealed by name at this time. My employers have tasked me with procuring a third party, specifically you, to take care of a loose end for us."

Emma narrowed her eyes at the man, "I think I know where this is going. By loose end, you mean you want me to put someone six feet under, right?"

"Essentially." The man replied, clasping his hands behind his back. Emma shook her head, "No way, pal! Any job but a shady one, that's what I'll do. This sounds shady. Sorry, but go find your hired help elsewhere!"

The man's smile disappeared in an instant. He unclasped his hands, and now they hung at his sides. "Miss Rose, don't let a little conscientious quibble like this stop you. My employers are prepared to pay whomever I hire a substantial amount of money. The profits from this little job could be well in the millions, if you are lucky. Even if you are not, even a hundred-thousand would be more money than you will ever lay eyes on, otherwise. After all, you never really went far during the Grand Melee, did you? I hear tell that the Fury was defeated within the first round of combat. How shameful, to make it that far, only to loose the cash prize so early! Are you going to be loser for a second time?"

Emma was both extremely pissed, and somewhat interested. The allure of making that much money was strong, but at the same time her convictions and the fact that this guy had to stoop to insulting her honor and skill as a fighter bothered her immensely. In the end, though, she took a deep breathe and decided to take the practical option. "Fine, I'll do it, but this is the one and only time! If I ever see you again after this, I swear to god, that I'll smash your face into the back of your skull!"

The man laughed, as if what she said didn't frighten him, but amuse him instead. As if she had delivered the punch line to some great joke. That made her seethe inside, but she kept a hold on her anger. "So glad to see that you saw things our way, Miss Rose." He reached into his pant's pocket and pulled out a small photograph. He presented it to her. After a momentary hesitation, she took the item from him and looked at it. The face that stared back at her belonged to a young man, around her age. He was short, thin, and had a sort of face that one forgot quickly after seeing it. Short, black hair, grey eyes, eyes that gave a hint of Asian ancestry. Eyes framed by rather stylish glasses.

Emma snorted in dismissal, "Who's this? Don't tell me this is your 'loose end' I have to take care of? C'mon, this guy looks like a limp noodle!"

The strange man frowned. "I wouldn't underestimate him, Miss Rose. This young man, though unassuming and rather weak in appearance, is one of the most deadly assassins-for-hire the crime world has ever known. My employers had an exclusive contract with him for some time, but unfortunately, relations fell through. He walked away from his end of the deal, and summarily broke ties. My employers fear that he might decide to come after them sometime in the near future, and are taking pre-emptive measures to ensure he doesn't become a liability they will regret."

Emma snickered derisively, "Oh really? This guy, a deadly assassin-for-hire? Don't make me laugh! I could break this punk's neck like a toothpick without even trying! C'mon, who's the real target?"

The man in the suit looked entirely serious. He cleared his throat, and said, "Miss Rose, I assure you, what I am saying is serious business. This young man, this assassin, was known as Ghost. He was sighted by my employer's informants in this city, Jump City. He cannot be allowed to live any longer. You said you would take the job, are you going to back out now?"

Emma shook her head, "No way, I'll do it, but just this once! And, I better be paid when this is over. It better be worth it!"

The suited man smiled again, "Excellent, I knew I could count on you, Fury. We shall meet again, I assure you. I wish you an exceedingly nice day!"

He turned to go, but before he could walk very far down the hall, she called out, "Hey! What about my money! How will you know if I have done the job or not?"

The man didn't break stride nor did he bother turning around to face her, and merely said , "Oh, don't worry about that, Miss Rose... We'll be keeping a close eye on things around here for now. We'll know, let's just keep it at that. And, when the time comes, I will visit you again with a certain briefcase filled with your bounty."

Then, he disappeared around the corner of the hall. A moment later, she heard him as he descended the creaking, dilapidated excuse for stairs down to the ground floor of the tenement building. A slam said he had exited the premises, and was gone. Emma was left with the small photograph of the young man referred to as "Ghost" sitting in the palm of her hand. She looked down at the picture once more, staring intently, as if to burn the image of this face into her mind. Then, abruptly, she clenched her hand into a fist, and crumbled the picture into an unrecognizable ball.