Chapter 1

Brrrring!

Lady jolted in her sleep, then rolled over, burying her face deeper into her pillow. It was still dark out. At least, her room was. The blinds were pulled tightly shut, choking out any stray rays of early morning light that might disturb her sleep.

Brrring!

The phone on the cluttered nightstand seemed insistent on waking the slayer up. In addition to its crisp ringer, it vibrated against the table, which in turn, transferred to the bed. Lady rolled over again, throwing a vicious hand out, smashing nothing but air. She wanted it to go away, to let her sleep in peace. It rang a third time, and this time, she caught hold of the edge of the nightstand, knocking some of the clutter off of it. Balled up pieces of paper, a notebook, a spare magazine, and several bullets clattered to the floor, joining in the effort to wake her.

Brrring!

Finally, her hand reached its target: the hand piece. She lifted it, silencing the phone in the middle of one of its annoying chimes. Her eyes still closed, she first considered dropping it back down, but then brought it clumsily to her ear, letting it rest mostly on her pillow while lazily applying pressure.

"Mmm, what?" she half slurred into the phone. There was a pause on the other end, possibly the caller thinking they'd reached a wrong number.

"...is this Miss Lady?" asked a male voice, faint from the gap between her ear and the earpiece.

"Depends," she sighed sleepily. So help him if he was a telemarketer. She would find a way to trace the call, then beat the living shit out of him.

There was another pause. "I have a job for you."

That perked her interest. A little. Her pillow was still at the center of her attention, but she made the effort to hold the phone tighter to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm told you deal with...extermination."

"You could say that. How bad?"

"Pardon?"

She was starting to wake up, despite her efforts to stay near the border of sleep. Plus, she was laying funny on the gun under her pillow, and it was putting a creak in her neck. "I said, how bad?" she repeated crossly.

Pause. "Bad enough."

Damn it!

"Fine. Address?"

"6170 Fairmont."

She did a very rough mental calculation. "2 hours. 2 k. In cash." She didn't bother saying goodbye, instead just plunked the hand piece noisily in the receiver. Lady sighed hard and dropped her head face first into her pillow. She very much wanted to go back to sleep, but a job was a job, and that meant money. Money was always good, and she had a rep to live up to.

She opened her eyes, her right blue and left brown blinking sleepily. She rose into a sitting position, this time outright groaning. The gray sheets fell away from her almost nude form. The AC was broken, the unit removed from the window sill, a large, fist shaped dent in the frame from when it had decided to conk out in the middle of summer. The room was thick with warmth, and even sleeping with just a pair of panties did nothing to cool her skin. The heat clouded her head and begged her to lie back down and pass out for a few more hours.

Instead, Lady forced herself to swing her legs out. From there, she granted herself a few minutes to sit and try to wake up a bit more. When she had reached the level in which she was sure she could make it to the bathroom without tripping over anything, she got up and crossed the room. On the way, she stabbed the power button on her stereo. Soft rock blared out a sensible volume as she stepped through the rest of the clutter of her messy residence; clothes, undergarments, several holsters, and other miscellaneous bits of clutter.

Lady cracked her neck as she entered the bathroom, releasing the stiffness that had built up during the night, then flipped the light on. As soon as she hit the hot water in the shower, all the sleepiness vanished. If it was one thing that woke her up, it was a shower. She kept it short; there was plenty she had to do before she left.

Once she toweled off, she grabbed the first article of clothing she spotted; a black button up blouse. She buttoned if halfway up, not bothering with a bra, then found a matching pair of shorts. A brief dig through a cluttered dresser unearthed her knee socks, which would make her knee-high combat boots closer to being comfortable. It took her a few minutes to lace said boots all the way up, until they sat tight on her calves.

Once satisfied with her attire, Lady quickly combed her short, black hair, then spiked it appropriately with a touch of gel. She washed her hands clean of the hair application, then slipped on a pair of her all purpose gloves. Whether it was riding or shooting, she always wore a pair. These were leather, ventilated and colored a deep cherry red.

She grabbed a pair of shades off the top of her dresser, flipped her stereo off, then headed down to the garage.

"Good morning," she muttered to her wall of weapons.

The north wall was pegged with various firearms, all organized to her liking. To the left hung handguns, ranging from the sexy little ones you could conceal anywhere, to the massive hand cannons that fired .50 cal slugs. Next to those sat her hand-held SMG's, then the few assault rifles and shotguns she rarely used. Strewn in boxes in shelves below were various hand grenades and incendiaries, as well as boxes of ammunition.

In the middle, separated from the rest was Kalina Ann, her custom rocket launcher. She'd cleaned it only the day before. The metal still glistened with oil, the well used bayonet that hung beneath it polished to almost a mirror finish.

Lady grabbed a few weapons and her ammo belt, which when fully loaded acted like a half mini-skirt. Among the weapons she took were Little Sis, her favorite .45 semi-auto with a lengthened frame, a tricked out Skorpion SMG with a hooked bayonet, and of course, Kalina Ann. It took her a full half an hour to load each weapon and her belt full of various types of ammunition. Kalina Ann had one rocket already primed inside, along with two spares in the shoulder mount.

She slipped Sis into the holster on her thigh, the Skorpion at the small of her back, and Kalina Ann across her back by its strap. It might be heavy to some, but Lady carried it easily. She mashed the door button on the way to her bike parked in the middle of the floor. As the door groaned up, she mounted it, kicked up the stand, and turned the key already sitting in the ignition.

She took her sunglasses from where she'd deposited them in the front pocket of her blouse. The world turned a shade of gold as the clear yellow lens' lowered over her odd colored eyes. The bike purred under her idly, then roared as she revved the engine once, then sped into the early gray morning.


He was waiting for when she pulled up on Fairmont. A middle aged suit, standing almost out of place on the sidewalk.

Fairmont was in the middle of the city, in the business district. High rise buildings and skyscrapers rose like gravestones into the gray sky. Not another soul was in sight; it was far to early in the morning, and even then, it was a seedy place to be.

Lady killed her bike in a spot on the curb, then shoved the kickstand out with her boot. She got her first good look at what had to be her client. Mid-forties, hair graying from stress, and a neat, pressed suit. Very official, very methodical; unfortunately, it was those kind that pissed her off.

Along with the cocky ones.

Already, he was giving her a bad vibe. He looked at her dubiously, as if he thought he'd called a hooker instead of a slayer. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd gotten those looks, and certainly not the last. When you showed up in a tight shirt and hotpants, peopled tended to stare.

Though how many skanks carry around this much hardware?

"You the guy who called?" she asked him.

"Yes. My name is Richard Caldwell. You must be Miss Lady."

"Lady will do just fine." She held out her hand. "Cash."

Caldwell gave her a sour look before digging into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of banded bills, which he deposited in her hand. Lady flipped through a few of the bills, then stuck it in her blouse, wedging it between her body and her belt. It'd be safe there.

"So what's up?"

Caldwell nodded in the direction of the building across the street. It was one of the larger skyscrapers. "I own the Commerce Center. I came in to take care of some early business. When I arrived, the night staff was dead."

"And by dead...?"

"Slaughtered," he said stoically. Lady noted the lack of emotion in his voice. "I only saw a dozen bodies, but there will no doubt be more."

Lady folded her arms across her chest, the loose sleeve of her blouse fluttering lightly in an early breeze. She was intrigued. "Did you see it?"

Caldwell shook his head. "No, but I heard it. Whatever it looks like, it's probably not human."

"Hmm..." she thought aloud mentally running through a catalog of what she knew of. "Where exactly in the building?"

"The 71st floor. I was on my way to my office above the art gallery when I...stumbled upon the situation."

Lady nodded her head. She had a rough grasp of the situation. Somehow, a demon got into the building and killed a bunch of people. She didn't know how, but that didn't matter to her. All she had to do was kill it. By the sounds of it, it was going to be an in and out job. She might even be able to get some sleep afterwards.

"Alright. Two thousand is my price, which you've already paid," she informed him. "If shit happens, my price doubles."

"Should I be worrying about my insurance?" Caldwell was eying Kalina Ann's bayonet apprehensively. Lady patted the butt of it and shrugged.

"Hey, you want your pad back..."

"I don't suppose I have a choice in the matter?" Caldwell asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lady grinned. "Not really." She turned and began to walk across the street. "But don't worry," she added over her shoulder. "I'm a fair woman."


Well, he was right about the slaughter part, Lady thought as she stepped over a man's body gutted up the middle. Whatever was supposed to be inside of him was now outside. She'd barely stepped off of the elevator when she had found the first body. Then she found another, then another. She counted 15 by the time she reached the art gallery. Mostly people in maintenance clothes and security guards.

The gallery was a long, boxy rectangle. Along the wall hung various tapestries and paintings, some oil, others watercolor, still others techniques Lady never even heard of. Spaced around the floor in glass containers were sculptures, abstract creations and formal busts, all of varying shapes and sizes. Other cases held medieval suits of armor, or ancient weapons.

What place of business has an art gallery? Probably for tours or something...Although this building probably has other dedications.

Lady absently stepped over the corpse of a woman who had been cut cleanly in half. Though she was acting casual, it was her own way of being on high alert. The less she focused on the surroundings, the more likely she would see something out of the ordinary, at least that was her theory.

She had a look at the floor. It was polished hardwood, stained with pools of blood. But there was nothing in between the bodies; no marks, scratches, anything to indicate something otherworldly had gone nuts on a bunch of people. Lady squatted down, running a gloved hand across the smooth surface. There might have been nothing, but demons didn't just pop out of nowhere. No, there was always a reason.

While she was busy examining the floor, she didn't notice the black wisps behind her, nor the large, blood rusted scissors melting out from within a display case. Silently, they opened wider as she stood, resting just at shoulder level, ready to cut through her tender skin.