"You know, you really shouldn't play with knives. You could put your eye out."
Annie whirled on the spot, throwing the dagger with such force and accuracy that it lodged itself in one of the boards covering the window, narrowly missing the source of the unwelcome advice. He reached up and pulled it out casually, flipping the blade over and over in his hands.
"What do you want?" Annie snapped. The guy was creepy, and she didn't have the patience for creeps. He was tall and lean, dressed all in black- and his facepaint made him look like a killer mime. She stalked over to him and yanked her dagger from his grasp.
"I'm looking for a gentleman by the name of Ragdoll Martin, and I have it on good authority that you might know where he is." The guy said. His voice was smooth, too smooth. It made her shudder.
"Why would I know where that asshole's holed up?" She said with a sneer that twisted her otherwise pretty features. "I'm not his babysitter."
Suddenly, she found herself on the wall, one arm pinned by a strong hand and the other by a knife through her sleeve.
"Let me rephrase that: Tell me where Ragdoll is." His gloved fingers dug into her wrist.
"I've heard of you." Annie said, looking up at him with an odd mixture of awe and disdain in her eyes. The streetlight that had shone on her long auburn hair flickered, then went out. "You're the one that killed T-Bird and his merry band of crackheads."
The guy chuckled dark and low in his throat, and his grip on her wrist loosened just a bit. "Yeah, that's me. Now, are you going to tell me where I can find Ragdoll, or am I wasting my time here?"
Annie thought for a moment, staring deeply into his cold, green eyes. They reminded her of the pictures of snake eyes she'd seen in nature magazines. "Depends. You gonna kill him?"
There was that laugh again. It unnerved her. No one who looked like he did should grin and chuckle like that. The contrast provoked the seed of fear he'd planted in her heart to take root, winding cold, thread-like tendrils around her lungs and squeezing.
"He's been dead for a long time now, Annabelle. He just doesn't know it yet."
Annie swallowed, the icy grip on her lungs receding just a bit at the thought of Ragdoll's death. "He's usually at the Pit, but he switched hangouts recently. He likes the abandoned church out on Heller, says it reminds him of his boyhood, whatever the fuck that means."
"There." The guy said, pulling the knife out of the wall and releasing his grip on her simultaneously. She stumbled forward, catching herself against his chest and looking up into his cold green eyes once again. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
Annie shook her head, shuffling backwards quickly and letting her gaze fall to the trash and wet newspapers at her feet. When she looked up again, he was gone, his footsteps echoing through the alley a long way off.