Oh, I forgot to mention, that Lady Skull is original character, so please
contact me, if you want to use her somewhere else. Thank you.
Silence of the early morning woke him up. Silence, all types of silence - uncomfortable silence, satisfied silence, when all good and bad deeds are done (you better ask Fisk about this one) and the most precious variant -- the dead silence - provoked him.
Silence usually brings calmness and relaxation. Not for him, though. He wanted to crush it, to smash, brake and burn. To fill with something. With hysterical cries of a woman -- ooh, it was just like music for his ears, with the rapid breathing of a man, who wanted to die like a man, but -- how ironic -- wasn't man enough to do even that, with police sirens. Romantic, isn't it?
Dancing with death is the most sexy thing, but how one can do this, when everything is quiet?
Bullseye slowly opened his eyes and looked around. The bitch was gone, and a couple of days ago he would think it was rather good thing, but now... She acted too independent for his partner, female partner, any kind of partner. From the other hand, he didn't really know, how should real partners act and interact since he never had one. But he didn't like her model of behavior, there is no doubt about that.
First of all, she had to be scared of him, to sit in the corner, never making distracted and vain movements. And then, maybe, he will give her a piece of job. Hard task by the way, because diving a job implies having a simple plan of the operation.
Bullseye was chaos itself. His thoughts and actions could be never understood or predicted. And it wasn't a type of a strategy to distract the enemy. Ideas were like sparks inside his twisted brain: flashing brightly and in the next second being replaced with others, even more cruel and meaningless from the first sight.
Bullseye killed Electra, penetrating her hot and definitely alive at the moment flesh with her sai, feeling with all his skin, as her blood cooled quickly, becoming deadly cool, just like sai's blade. It was the first time in last three years when he really used a weapon in general meaning to stop the heartbeat. Ancient, unknown, but a weapon.
He stood up, walking to the bathroom. Every moron with a gun can make a couple of exit wounds, cut the throat, but where's the fun in all that? Killing can be a pretty boring process, especially, when it's your everyday job, especially when you are in business since fourteen. He killed enough people to be called a serial thriller, but, believe it or not, he never held a gun in his hands.
"Gun is the weapon for weaklings", he used to think. Bullets are fast, but his reaction is always faster, what's the point of using them, then? To calm down the conscience? Right. Bullets are like umbrellas under the pouring rain -- they will never keep you dry, but at least will bring some calmness and confidence. But isn't the knowing of the fact that you are soaking wet better, than relative and fake confidence of being dry?
He took a towel, wiping the back of his neck, and suddenly the sparkling thought exploded inside his head.
She was in his bathroom, came in just for second to glance quickly in the mirror... The bitch was in his mirror, her hazy reflection was still there, he was sure, even though she left yesterday evening. Bullseye hissed dangerously, his hands started to tremble.
Women are the worst half of humanity. One single step into your world, and they will pretend to stay in your life forever. No shit. Reflection, footprints, filaments -- step after step. Bullseye growled, searching blindly for the weapon with his right hand. There it was -- something small and hard -- just like he needed. With the grace of the predator he turned around and made a throw.
Bar of soap touched the shiny surface. Mirror was cracked. Reflection was gone.
"Good", Bullseye smiled.
Children usually started to cry from the sight of his grin. He loved to hear children crying. Music, remember?
He already started to get dressed, when remembered something, that made his face turn into Halloween mask. Bitch. He visited Fisk yesterday, but Kingpin made his point clear: either he starts to work with Lady Skull to get revenge and clean black spots from his shiny reputation of psychopath, who never misses, or he can continue to lay motionless on the bottom.
Fisk said, she was extremely useful in their case. He asked... Not really asked, just roared something with questioning intonation, why so. Fisk slowly shook his head -- he was damn big and his every motion with the grace of an elephant was like in slow motion -- and gave him three reasons with his rational voice, that made Bullseye sick in his stomach.
Reason number one: Lady Skull is a professional, and he would like to bring some fresh blood into the business. Reason number two: she is a big fan of non-standard criminal approaches. Reason number three: she can understand Matt Murdock better. Understanding of the victim is 50% of good result in the end.
Lady Skull was temporary blind once upon a time. One of her victims didn't want to die easy, so he had a knife for protection. Somehow -- the choreography of the fight is chaotic -- so you will never know, where and when your opponent will get you -- he managed to injury her eye, of course, it was the last thing he did in his goddamn life. The blade of the knife left the Bullseye's favorite scar on her face -- the scar, that deformed the shape of her eye, crossing it with a dark red line of gross flesh, that used to be dangerous wound once. The wound touched some nerve, and became blind for six months or so -- Bullseye didn't like to deal with numbers, plus he was pleased and captivated with the creepy story boss was telling him -- and then, after the series of operations doctors managed to save the vision of the second eye.
Bullseye couldn't stop smiling. There were couple of moments, when he giggled hysterically with pure sadistic pleasure. Dolly experienced pain, much pain, which already was a pleasant fact to know.
"What eye?" he asked Fisk, getting ready to leave, when the boss already forgot about Lady Skull.
"Right one". He got the direct answer.
Wilson Fisk, Kingpin, wasn't really suffering in jail. On contrary, his chamber was much bigger and more comfortable, that whole Bullseye's apartment. Bullseye left and the first person he saw, walking in the company of the guard, to talk with boss, was Dolly. She wasn't pleased with their collaboration, too. Nothing weird.
"Right eye", Bullseye smiled with the smile of the alligator from the jungle, nearly touching the right wall of the corridor, approaching her. The guard took couple steps forward, giving Bullseye space and time to act. Lady Skull was hiding her face under the black cape, not looking at him proudly.
She could notice some movement with her healthy left eye, but she didn't expect... That's right, Dolly, that's the world of Bullseye, where there are not stupid expectations, or thoughts, or hopes -- just pure action.
The steady rhythm of her steps was broken, when he kicked her just under her knee with his foot without single look. He was blind, too, in some kind of way.
Lady Skull screamed and fell. If he didn't broke the bone, he at least made a crack, and this crack will hurt, will hurt bad. Bullseye bent down and promised, rolling his eyes:
"We're just getting started, Dolly... Just... getting... started..."
He walked away with that, setting his hysterical laughter of the winner free.
Bullseye's face muscles relaxed for a moment. He grabbed his leather coat and rushed to the door, willing to make the first move and bring the first result. Maybe in the process of searching Matt Murdock Dolly will leave him alone. Maybe she will... He touched the door with his fingers, starting to get dangerously stressed again -- he felt the physical presence behind it.
"Let's go", Lady Skull said, leaning against the wall in the corridor.
He slammed the door shut, watching her go. Her right leg didn't listen to the orders of the brain, which was the first attribute of pain. Poor Dolly with the face of death was hurt... He pushed her aside to be the leader even here, in the dirty dark corridor of one of the cheapest buildings in the city. Women... Just give them the chance to take a lead once, and you'll see. You'll never be a leader again.
Maybe because of this part of Bullseye's philosophy all women he was ever with died young, after a few days of knowing him.
Targets and weapons -- this is all he needed to be happy. Oh, and a free, unlimited space.
THE END.
Silence of the early morning woke him up. Silence, all types of silence - uncomfortable silence, satisfied silence, when all good and bad deeds are done (you better ask Fisk about this one) and the most precious variant -- the dead silence - provoked him.
Silence usually brings calmness and relaxation. Not for him, though. He wanted to crush it, to smash, brake and burn. To fill with something. With hysterical cries of a woman -- ooh, it was just like music for his ears, with the rapid breathing of a man, who wanted to die like a man, but -- how ironic -- wasn't man enough to do even that, with police sirens. Romantic, isn't it?
Dancing with death is the most sexy thing, but how one can do this, when everything is quiet?
Bullseye slowly opened his eyes and looked around. The bitch was gone, and a couple of days ago he would think it was rather good thing, but now... She acted too independent for his partner, female partner, any kind of partner. From the other hand, he didn't really know, how should real partners act and interact since he never had one. But he didn't like her model of behavior, there is no doubt about that.
First of all, she had to be scared of him, to sit in the corner, never making distracted and vain movements. And then, maybe, he will give her a piece of job. Hard task by the way, because diving a job implies having a simple plan of the operation.
Bullseye was chaos itself. His thoughts and actions could be never understood or predicted. And it wasn't a type of a strategy to distract the enemy. Ideas were like sparks inside his twisted brain: flashing brightly and in the next second being replaced with others, even more cruel and meaningless from the first sight.
Bullseye killed Electra, penetrating her hot and definitely alive at the moment flesh with her sai, feeling with all his skin, as her blood cooled quickly, becoming deadly cool, just like sai's blade. It was the first time in last three years when he really used a weapon in general meaning to stop the heartbeat. Ancient, unknown, but a weapon.
He stood up, walking to the bathroom. Every moron with a gun can make a couple of exit wounds, cut the throat, but where's the fun in all that? Killing can be a pretty boring process, especially, when it's your everyday job, especially when you are in business since fourteen. He killed enough people to be called a serial thriller, but, believe it or not, he never held a gun in his hands.
"Gun is the weapon for weaklings", he used to think. Bullets are fast, but his reaction is always faster, what's the point of using them, then? To calm down the conscience? Right. Bullets are like umbrellas under the pouring rain -- they will never keep you dry, but at least will bring some calmness and confidence. But isn't the knowing of the fact that you are soaking wet better, than relative and fake confidence of being dry?
He took a towel, wiping the back of his neck, and suddenly the sparkling thought exploded inside his head.
She was in his bathroom, came in just for second to glance quickly in the mirror... The bitch was in his mirror, her hazy reflection was still there, he was sure, even though she left yesterday evening. Bullseye hissed dangerously, his hands started to tremble.
Women are the worst half of humanity. One single step into your world, and they will pretend to stay in your life forever. No shit. Reflection, footprints, filaments -- step after step. Bullseye growled, searching blindly for the weapon with his right hand. There it was -- something small and hard -- just like he needed. With the grace of the predator he turned around and made a throw.
Bar of soap touched the shiny surface. Mirror was cracked. Reflection was gone.
"Good", Bullseye smiled.
Children usually started to cry from the sight of his grin. He loved to hear children crying. Music, remember?
He already started to get dressed, when remembered something, that made his face turn into Halloween mask. Bitch. He visited Fisk yesterday, but Kingpin made his point clear: either he starts to work with Lady Skull to get revenge and clean black spots from his shiny reputation of psychopath, who never misses, or he can continue to lay motionless on the bottom.
Fisk said, she was extremely useful in their case. He asked... Not really asked, just roared something with questioning intonation, why so. Fisk slowly shook his head -- he was damn big and his every motion with the grace of an elephant was like in slow motion -- and gave him three reasons with his rational voice, that made Bullseye sick in his stomach.
Reason number one: Lady Skull is a professional, and he would like to bring some fresh blood into the business. Reason number two: she is a big fan of non-standard criminal approaches. Reason number three: she can understand Matt Murdock better. Understanding of the victim is 50% of good result in the end.
Lady Skull was temporary blind once upon a time. One of her victims didn't want to die easy, so he had a knife for protection. Somehow -- the choreography of the fight is chaotic -- so you will never know, where and when your opponent will get you -- he managed to injury her eye, of course, it was the last thing he did in his goddamn life. The blade of the knife left the Bullseye's favorite scar on her face -- the scar, that deformed the shape of her eye, crossing it with a dark red line of gross flesh, that used to be dangerous wound once. The wound touched some nerve, and became blind for six months or so -- Bullseye didn't like to deal with numbers, plus he was pleased and captivated with the creepy story boss was telling him -- and then, after the series of operations doctors managed to save the vision of the second eye.
Bullseye couldn't stop smiling. There were couple of moments, when he giggled hysterically with pure sadistic pleasure. Dolly experienced pain, much pain, which already was a pleasant fact to know.
"What eye?" he asked Fisk, getting ready to leave, when the boss already forgot about Lady Skull.
"Right one". He got the direct answer.
Wilson Fisk, Kingpin, wasn't really suffering in jail. On contrary, his chamber was much bigger and more comfortable, that whole Bullseye's apartment. Bullseye left and the first person he saw, walking in the company of the guard, to talk with boss, was Dolly. She wasn't pleased with their collaboration, too. Nothing weird.
"Right eye", Bullseye smiled with the smile of the alligator from the jungle, nearly touching the right wall of the corridor, approaching her. The guard took couple steps forward, giving Bullseye space and time to act. Lady Skull was hiding her face under the black cape, not looking at him proudly.
She could notice some movement with her healthy left eye, but she didn't expect... That's right, Dolly, that's the world of Bullseye, where there are not stupid expectations, or thoughts, or hopes -- just pure action.
The steady rhythm of her steps was broken, when he kicked her just under her knee with his foot without single look. He was blind, too, in some kind of way.
Lady Skull screamed and fell. If he didn't broke the bone, he at least made a crack, and this crack will hurt, will hurt bad. Bullseye bent down and promised, rolling his eyes:
"We're just getting started, Dolly... Just... getting... started..."
He walked away with that, setting his hysterical laughter of the winner free.
Bullseye's face muscles relaxed for a moment. He grabbed his leather coat and rushed to the door, willing to make the first move and bring the first result. Maybe in the process of searching Matt Murdock Dolly will leave him alone. Maybe she will... He touched the door with his fingers, starting to get dangerously stressed again -- he felt the physical presence behind it.
"Let's go", Lady Skull said, leaning against the wall in the corridor.
He slammed the door shut, watching her go. Her right leg didn't listen to the orders of the brain, which was the first attribute of pain. Poor Dolly with the face of death was hurt... He pushed her aside to be the leader even here, in the dirty dark corridor of one of the cheapest buildings in the city. Women... Just give them the chance to take a lead once, and you'll see. You'll never be a leader again.
Maybe because of this part of Bullseye's philosophy all women he was ever with died young, after a few days of knowing him.
Targets and weapons -- this is all he needed to be happy. Oh, and a free, unlimited space.
THE END.