A woman sighed as she filed papers in the dank dimness of the storage room. She was garbed in a simple gray pencil skirt with a nice blue satin blouse, with black and cork pumps and some new trend; bead jewelry. As a chilled gust met her bared neck, she shuddered. Casting a look around in suspicion, she hurriedly filed the rather large stack that was pressed against one breast and her arm.
She was definitely not an eyesore, which is most likely how she landed this job, despite her inexperience, though five years had cured that. A heavenly mix of coffee and caramel hair was pulled into a tight braided bun atop of her head. From the lack of outdoors, her skin was only three shade from pale, ivory really. It was flawless though, without freckles, scars or any other blemishes. Blessed with long legs, the woman used her soft curves to keep the attention of her interests, though she currently had none. Grey eyes from behind a pair of glasses tried not to express too much emotion. She was delicate. She was beautiful. She was dedicated. She was Delilah.
As her pumps clicked from her movement, she cringed, praying that it seemed just a creak from the overburdened filing cabinets. Silently, she finished her stack and glanced at her watch, 11:35. It mocked her because it meant that she was early enough to catch the new rumors. Inaudibly, she tip-toed toward the small group of gossiping fellow secretaries. Since her sister's death, they isolated her from their rumor mills, due to the fact they now gossiped about that sore subject.
Amelia, the typical blond-haired, blue-eyed Southern belle, drawled in her normal leader tone about a new club called "Frisky". She droned on about how the club's owner was putting it up for auction and how it had been recently busted by a complicated drug string from the Chicago PD.
"I hear that they're killing anyone who stumbles on their secret meeting to discuss who will run it next." Amelia smirked as the ladies all gasped and whispered more excitedly, since the previous owner had been busted for drugs and now prostitution. "I hear from Madison, who works that the police station, that they think fifteen people have been killed in the last week alone." proclaimed the Southern belle.
Claire soon nodded, as if on cue. "Yes, I heard that the FOH are using that as a meeting place." she murmured, making Avery gasp in surprise. The women got quiet as they pondered what heinous thing the FOH might commit next. Delilah, who was behind the cabinets, bit her fist trying not to make a noise. 'Oh, sis, is that why they murdered you?'
A figure rose from behind the rancid scent of a overfull dumpster. It was tall, for a woman, but with the practiced grace that a cat would approve of. Willowy limbs swung in rhythm as the figure walked down the dank darkness of the alley. Her footsteps were faint with the soles from her steel-toed leather boots. There was a faint bass trembling the buildings around her. As she flipped some stray hairs over her shoulder to join their sisters that were connected to her high ponytail, she paused as she scanned the back-door of the infamous club, the "Frisky", a not so cleverly hidden meeting place.
However, the figure screams of mystery. With a long ponytail, whose ends would brush her mid-back, and equally long bangs framing her face, there was no doubt of beauty. The face would stun those that saw it clearly, with eyes the color of a constantly shifting storm of gray with amber bursts. The brew was framed by black tribal tattoo that screamed of danger with its fiery pattern. It spread from her hair-line to her cheeks, leaving her perfectly accented crimson lips.
As she pressed herself against the cement of the wall as a group of men left the club to make a circle around another male, who seemed to be a little less for wear. As she watched the circle of questions and battery, from a safe distance from the alcove.
To anyone watching, the figure blended nicely into this dark side of Chicago city. She breathed in and smiled like a cat for a canary. She slunk past the hulking figures used as bouncers for the nightclub, though it was questionable if that was all they were meant for. As she past another rancid dumpster to crouch behind, she glanced her watch on her right wrist. It's blue digits read 11:35.
She grinned as she could now hear the questions from the boss, a graying older man in slacks and a nice blue dress shirt. The lackeys ushered the bouncers inside as the boss landed a heavy kick to the other male, who seemed to be the new figurehead of the club. The younger man's expensive suit was getting whatever this alley collected, no doubt a mixture of alcohol, vomit and garbage.
"What do you mean that $30 mil, is not enough?" inquired the leader. His gaze locked on the pitiful male.
Spitting out a glop of spit and blood, the younger one looked cockily up. "There's been a higher bid." he ground out, ignoring the look of the apparent bidder. "If you can't top that by Friday, then someone else who bids higher gets the club."
Sighing, the boss picked up the male and pinned him to the wall as his four cronies watched, jeering. "Here's how this is going to work. Your boss is going to take my bid of $30 million and he doesn't have to clean up all the bodies of his staff."
The younger man glared at the older one. "Sorry, pops, but my boss scares me more than you."
Silently, the secretary crouched behind several cabinets as her co-workers moved. Five of them and they were sorting and filing the stacks of reports, complaints and such from the day. Isabella, the youngest secretary at the age of 19, bless her mind, asked Amelia what else she had heard from Madison.
Amelia, in her expensive designer suit and heels, smiled. "I also hear that there might be a new Kingpin." Hannah, with her older plump frame, scoffed. Ignoring the grandmother of two, Amelia continued. "They saw he likes to torture mutants and sympathizers, by slowly killing them. They call him 'Grim', because he reaps the souls from mutants and mutant lovers."
Claire, with the Asian eyes, looked around and whispered. "I hear he uses a special weapon to do it and it leaves wounds like chains with spiked balls at the ends." The hidden woman's eye widen at the verdict from the doctor that flashing in her mind's eye.
Avery shook her head, making her long raven tresses fly all over the place. "Listen to you all." she scolded, normally kind brown eyes hard. "No wonder Delilah doesn't like rumors."
Hannah looked at her watch. "It is almost midnight, you gossiping fillies. Finish up so we can go home." Acknowledging the advice/command, the younger women scurried around finishing the stack of paperwork. Hannah ran into woman's hiding place. "Go home child, and spend time with your newborn, Delilah."
The mentioned spy smiled and waited until they were a few rows away before slipping away out the door. The older woman scurried away before Isabella or Avery went looking for her. Leaning against the wall next to the door, Delilah looked at the florescent lights on the ceiling. "Oh, Danielle. Why you?" she questioned the soul of her sister, most likely watching over her and Nolan.
Licking her lips, the woman stood and leaned against one of the two corners that served as an entrance to the alcove that the men were fighting in. She was bathed in the soft light from above the club's backdoor, yet no one seemed to notice her presence.
The stare battle of not blinking continued for a few minutes before the boss threw the younger man to the ground, allowing his minions to kick and beat him senseless. Raising an eyebrow, the woman wondered when notice would be taken to her. Not having to wait long as the men stopped as their boss whistled. They backed off and the boss looked at her.
"Oh, don't stop on my account." smirked the woman, licking her crimson lips seductively. "I was hoping for some fun, but I can wait." Greedy eyes looked her over.
Her style was strange, but not too odd. The coat she wore that showed off generous amounts of cleavage, was sleeve-less with a high collar. The vest continued downward to a zipper that ended above her belly button. A silver and obsidian piercing held attention to that exposed area of flesh.
As the lusty eyes continued down, they drank in sight of black skin-tight jeans that were fastened by a silver studded leather belt. The buckle was an oversized silver rectangle. The coat, which continued half-way down her calves, fanned out after the zipper, but concealed the rest of the belt, but for an inch on either side of the buckle.
Completing the look was a pair of leather gloves and a pair of lace-up black leather boots over the jeans, with a generous three inch heels. Smirking at the men, the woman glanced at the man on the ground. "I can offer a good time if you are done with him." she offered, her words causing the cronies to look pleadingly at their boss.
Stepping toward the alluring figure, the boss smiled. "I will finish with him, then we can have some fun, sweet-stuff." he promised, as he held out his hand for the mace that one of the cronies handed him. The mace had a polished black handle with leather strips creating the grip. What fascinated the woman most was the three steel chains that ended in spiked balls.
The younger man paled as the boss stalked toward him. Suddenly, the 'sounds of the city' faded away. "So you are the one, who tried to kill me." commented the woman, who pushed herself off the wall.
The lackeys moved in front of their boss protectively. "What?" asked the middle-aged man behind them.
The woman clapped. "Really, Grim." she scolded. "You should remember who you try to kill with that lovely thing."
The new Kingpin's eyes narrowed as he now ignored the male he was intending to finish. The cronies looked slightly worried as their boss gave them the finger-snap to attack. They fanned out to attack, but the woman smiled. "Oh right, a private conversation."
Storm gray turned into a swirling of amber, the gray being the flecks now. The eyes narrowed as the men suddenly clung to their heads and screaming, but they soon collapsed with blood running out of their ears. "You know, you should never leave a job unfinished. Too bad, you picked the wrong one to try." scolded the woman. "I am the Reaper. You are finished."
Shivering in fear, the mutant-hater watched the woman and began to scream for help, but none would come as she took his mace and killed him with it. She gazed at the male on the ground. You will tell me everything." she commanded.
Shuddering, he proceeded to share everything he knew from the Friends of Humanity meetings and them being the highest bidder at $1 billion. He split everything, blubbering at the end, praying she wouldn't kill him. When he opened his eyes after a particular bout of loud sobs, he opened to the two bouncers standing near him, confused by the damage, but no one else. He glanced at his watch, 12:00.