Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OC and any other thing you don't recognize.

One

"Roses for the Mrs.?" Eden smiled. She loved these little gestures that some men did for their wives. She was florist, and owned her own shop called the Garden of Eden, so she saw this quite often. Whether it be late birthday presents, anniversaries, valentines day, or just because it was Wednesday, picking up a bouquet of roses on the way home from work made her warm inside.

After paying, she handed the man a bouquet of red roses. He thanked her quickly and jetted out the door. He must have forgotten her birthday, she chuckled to herself. Eden stifled a yawn, eyes glancing over to the clock. Technically, she still had a half hour before closing, but she didn't care. She flipped the open sign over to side that read closed, locked the cash register, set the alarm, and in two long strides she was throwing on her rain coat and walking out the door. Waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. She had a missed call from her mom. She sighed; no doubt she was calling about the rent money she had lent her last month.

It pained Eden to think that her little piece of heaven wasn't doing too well. The commerce made barely enough to cover the rent of the place, and repairs were getting too expensive. She had to change her store hours and days so that she could work a part time job to keep her refrigerator stocked, gas in her car, and afford the rent of her own apartment.

The crosswalk light turned green, and Eden shuffled along. She made it to her car. It was an old silver Chevy Impala and had several scratches and dings. Wrenching the driver side door open, Eden pinched the bridge of her nose just as her cellphone glowed and vibrated in her hand.

Mom. Eden tossed the phone in the passenger seat, promising she would call her as soon as she got home. It had been a long day and the last thing she needed was a lecture. She could go for a nice warm bubble bath and foot rub. The impala roared to life after several attempts.

The Park-view apartment complex was built around the 1940s, and the entire building was in desperate need of an update. She wasn't allow to paint the wall to her liking; the same peeling eggshell-colored paint remained. She took to hanging up various artworks from the local thrift stores. The floorboards always squeaked when she walked and the appliances hadn't been updated since the apartment complex was renovated nearly seventy years ago.

Eden groaned as soon as she saw the 'out of order' sign that been posted on elevator. She would have to take the stairs. Again. Living on the fifth floor made stairs a pain. She took them two at a time. The faster I get upstairs the faster I get to my apartment, she chanted inside her head. Her breaths became short and shallow. She had to stop for a moment just to catch her breath. Asthma was something she struggled with all her life. She had a drawer stocked full of inhalers. She kept two in her purse and one in the drawer by the cash register at the shop just in case she had a flare up. Eden always tried to be prepared. She rested her arm against guard rail for support and dug around in her bag for an inhaler when she heard the heavy pattern of the footsteps behind her.

"Sorry" she muttered, flattening herself against the rail. Two men in suits brushed passed her as if she didn't even exist. They turned quickly at the entrance to the third floor. Eden, who was still making attempts to catch her breath, found herself intrigued by the two men. What were they doing in a dump like this? The suits looked too expensive, and he hadn't seen them before. Perhaps they were inspecting the building.

"Rogers, open up buddy. We just want to talk."

A moment of silence, and the man named Rogers didn't answer the door.

"It's nothing personal but..."

Suddenly there was a loud bang. Eden let out a raspy cry. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her heart hammered in her chest. That was a gunshot! She prayed that Rogers wasn't in his apartment, else he would be in for a rude awakening.

Eden took a heavy breath and willed herself to move, forcing one foot in front of the other. She would not get caught up in this. She would not be a witness. Police would question her, and she couldn't help them in any way because she had barely gotten a look at the perpetrator's face. She cringed at the bad publicity the shop would get. MOVE IT EDEN!She found it hard to walk, her legs felt like jelly and she was falling before she knew it.

"Вы не должны быть здесь" You shouldn't be here.His voice - for it was distinctly male - was slightly muffled from a stiff mask that covered his lower face.

Eden looked up from the corner she managed to crawl to. The first thing she noticed was the metal arm, but it didn't bother her as much as the blade in his hands. Even through his black goggles she could feel his cold calculating stare on her. It sent a shiver down her back.

He followed her gaze to knife, he brought the knife to his face as if he was inspecting it. He ran a bare finger as long the blade as it drew blood.

"делает это напугать вас?" Does this scare you? His voice came out ragged and raspy. In two long strides, he was standing - no hovering over her. He pushed the black goggles up to reveal two cold blue eyes.

"Это должно" It should. His voice left no room for mercy.

Eden nodded warily as if she understood every word he was saying. He was going to kill her, but first he wanted to toy with her. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes. He brought the knife to her forehead. Eden whimpered as he dragged it along the side of her face. She swallowed hard as he brought the blade to her neck.

The knife tore through her flesh, and she fought the instinct to swipe the knife away, clenching her fingers. She let out a scream, she only ended up gargling on her own blood. He was standing now, carelessly wiping blood from his knife, his blue eyes never leaving her green ones.

"I will see you soon." he spoke in English before leaving her to bleed on the floor.

I used Google translate for the Russian dialogue.

I'm only human so Im going to have spelling and grammar errors and occasionally I may have typed a word twice so if you notice anything, please NICELY point it out.

09/1/12- Beta'd by Pheather McKelle