Violet eyes stared out of a small dirty window, uninterested and almost bored as their owner's long white fingers tapped a steady beat on the splintered wood of the windowsill. As he stared out upon the gray, dreary sky and the cramped city below, the tall man at the window hummed the tune to an old Russian folk song quietly through colorless lips.

A quiet knock rang in timid little raps from behind the door that lead into the simple office. A slow smile spread across the man's face as he turned toward it.

"Come in, come in." The man's sing-song voice said. Although its tone was light and pleasant, there was an uncanny menace in it that made the jolly invitation a command.

The door opened slowly and a nervous man with shaggy brown hair stepped in, standing uneasily by the entrance. He was tall, but nowhere near the Russian man's height.

"I-Ivan - I mean, M-M-Mr. Braginski, s-sir?" The man quivered. Under the other man's mad stare, he seemed to shrink to half his actual height.

"What is it, my dear Torris?" The Russian cooed; yet through his mouth the endearment sounded sick.

"I-I, well, he, er, Raivis I mean - he failed to collect the m-money sir...I-I promise we'll get it. W-w-we just need more t-time...I-"

"Sit down, Torris." Ivan said, gesturing to a straight-backed chair in front of a spotless mahogany desk. The nervous man crossed the room and sat in the chair as told. Ivan joined him on the other side. "You have always been good to me Torris." He said fondly, "I raised you from childhood as if you were my own."

"Yes, sir."

"You've done everything I ask of you and expect nothing in return."

"Y-yes, sir."

"I trust you with my most important errands."

"Yes..."

"But if you fail me again, my dear, sweet Torris," Ivan leaded over the desk, breath brushing the cowering subordinate's white face. "I wouldn't have second thoughts about feeding you to Natalia."

Torris' body broke out into a fit of violent shudders, and the Russian pulled away, pleased with his affect.

"You may leave, Torris." He said calmly, leaning back into the comfortable crimson armchair. "I would be most pleased if you were to fetch Raivis for me, for I would like to discuss some things with him."

Torris nodded, standing up and then hastily turning to the door, stepped around a tall white-blonde man that stood in the middle of the doorway. The man ran his eyes up and down the shorter man's body and an approving noise issued from his throat.

"Come in, Gilbert." Ivan said, addressing the albino.

"Yo, Boss!" The man named Gilbert said, his German accent mixing awkwardly with the American slang. He strode boldly up to the desk, grabbing his crotch to keep his over-sized pants from falling to the floor. "You rang me earlier. What's goin' my man?"

"Yes. I need you to do me a favor." Ivan said, ignoring the awful image before him that should never be allowed; white, dorky, European men using street slang that can only be used effectively by black people.

"I need you to pay a visit to our dear friend Wang."


Wind. It was a deal breaker. It crept into warm corners and homes, leaving them cold and empty. It stole leaves and papers, carrying them away to unfamiliar places; leaving them to die alone. It was always moving, always hunting. It was the messenger of chaos.

Natalia looked out the window of her tiny studio apartment, wishing she could be the wind. Sure, she could kill, had killed. Sure, she could torture. She'd made people suffer until their screams died out and all that was left of their soul was pathetic pleading. She could do these things, but she never felt the power of the wind.

In fact, she didn't feel anything. She never felt remorse or even the sick joy that comes from committing so great a sin. The only time she ever felt anything was when she was able to be of use to Brother. In those moments when Ivan congratulated her on a particularly successful kill, she felt completely whole.

That's why she was so utterly devoted to the tall, intimidating man. He made her come alive.

Suddenly Natalia heard the creaking of floorboards, just outside the apartment door. She pulled her favorite blade out of the waistband of her dress, ready for an attack. There was a clinking noise, as if someone had picked the lock, and the old wooden door swung open. Natalia's body tensed as she calculated the speed and intensity with which she'd need to throw to kill her target. But she still didn't move. What if it was Brother?

The intruder reached over and flipped the light switch, revealing her face. Natalia sighed and loosened her arm upon recognition of her sister, Yekaterina.

"Иисус, you scared me. I thought you were out on a mission until tomorrow. Why did you pick the lock?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, turns out the bank was an easier break-in than I thought. I lost my key, and I didn't know you were home, so I just did what I do best. Why were you sitting in the dark, in the first place? Oh, and you really oughtn't take the Lord's name in vain."

Natalia snorted. With their professions, was there really any point in pretending to be good Christians at home? She figured not, but it kept her sister sane, so Natalia uttered a reluctant "Sorry," before getting up to turn on the water. Katy was sure to want cocoa. She always did when she came home.

The phone rang, breaking the easy silence in the room. Natalia rushed to the small mahogany table that it sat on, picking up the receiver with an eager smile.

"Hello?"


After the German left, Ivan immediately turned to the black cordless phone that sat on his desk. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear with one hand while dialing with another.

"So much to do, so much to do..." He sighed as the phone on the other end rang once...twice...

"Hello?" The heavy accented voice of his most trusted ally came through the other end.

"Hello, dear Sister." Ivan said, tone somewhat affectionate. Though not blood-related, he and Natalia had grown up together and over the years had developed a unique respect for one another. In short, they were both what most would consider insane. The trigger happy woman shared Ivan's passion for merciless killing and also understood his complete and utter emptiness better than anyone could. Though neither necessarily trusted the other, for trust was something you couldn't afford to have in their business, they could empathize with each other and thus respected one another with caution. They were not just allies, but not quite friends.

Ivan allowed a small smile to creep across his face in response to her relieved greeting. "I have a job I think you'll enjoy..." He said, unable to help the spreading of his smile into a sadistic grin at the image of Raivis' frightened, vulnerable face.

Natalia let that sly little smile that she reserved for Brother creep onto her face. She could feel a blush rise to warm her cold cheeks, and the voice that she spoke with next was close to a purr.

"Dearest Brother, you know I enjoy any job that comes from you. What's the order for today?"

She sighed with content as she let certain... questionable thoughts slide through her mind.

A tendency towards assassination is just so attractive in a man.

"I am having a rather persistent problem with little Raivis." Ivan spoke calmly into the mouth piece, occupying himself with the task of removing specks of dirt from under his fingernails. "He seems to have a memory problem and I believe that your...extraordinary methods...might help him remember to turn in the long-overdue sum of money he owes me. I'd do it myself, you see, but I am very busy."

"Ah, Raivis. Yes, I do remember him. He's so small; he'll be fun to play with. Alright then, Brother, as soon as I receive my customary payment, I'll make sure you get yours. Goodbye, dearest. I'll be seeing you shortly."

She didn't even bother to wait for his reply before hanging up. She knew her money would be delivered in a small brown paper bag to the P.O. Box she kept specifically for him by the end of the day.

Time to get to work.

"Sister, I'm terribly sorry, but I've got to head out for work. It should only take a few days at most. Oh, and the water's boiling."

"Aw, I wanted to spend some time with you. Well, at least try to keep clean this time. You know how I hate it when you come home looking like a ragamuffin."

"Yes, Katy." She replied quickly as she waltzed into her closet sized bedroom, bumping the door closed with her hip and grabbing the small leather bag that was her only companion on her missions.

Natalia let out a hearty laugh as she flipped her flaxen hair, raking her fingers through it and roughly pulling out the white bow she used to keep it tied down.

Then she looked in the mirror, absolutely adoring the feral expression she saw reflected in her eyes. Loving it because Brother loved it. And Brother was the only one whose opinion she cared for.

She stuffed her bag with only the essentials – toothbrush, cell, money, a small amount of clothing, and the various weapons that were the tools of her trade. No identification. If she was caught or killed the last thing she wanted was for the police to find out who she was. The very last thing she stuffed into the small satchel was a fresh hair bow.

It would be blood stained soon enough.

Then she headed out the door and onto the city streets. Anticipation laced the air, as if it knew what she was about to do. She started walking south, straight into the heart of NYC. Straight to the small office where Raivis was sure to be cowering in fear.


Raivis had spent the whole day hidden away in the horribly maintained apartment he and his two "brothers" shared. He couldn't face Ivan. Not now, not ever. He thought back to the fat roll of Benjamin Franklins. It had taken him many sleepless nights of compromises, promises, and deals to collect the twenty grand he owed his Boss. It was incredible, almost comical, how it had taken him so much work to collect it, yet so little effort to lose it.

Where had it gone? He thought, pacing back and forth across the width of the shared bedroom. He'd searched everywhere. He had retraced his steps hundreds of times, and recalled every movement he'd made three days previously crystal clear...except that one fraction of a moment it took him to lose his repaid debt, and possibly his life.

Late that afternoon, the phone rang from its place in the kitchen. In the hot and stagnant indoor air, the ringing sounded painfully loud in the weighted silence that Raivis had maintained for the entire day.

Ring...ring...ring...

The noise plagued Raivis' paranoid ears. Every creak was the careful step of Ivan's boot, every cry or shout from the surrounding rooms was his cries of agony as Natalia beat him without mercy.

"Go away!" he cried from under the bundles of blankets on his bed. "Just leave me alone..."

Ring...ring...

The phone's call continued, ominous in his ears. You can't run forever, Raivis, he told himself, though the thought echoed in a different voice; a light voice that rang like funeral bells; the voice of Ivan Braginski. With a shudder, Raivis climbed out of the bed, untangling himself from the sweat-soaked sheets. He picked up the receiver just before it cut to the answering machine.

"Hello, Raivis." The voice on the other end of the line sent shivers down the short Latvian man's spine.

"Mr. B-Braginski, Sir I-I'm so terribly sorry, but I-"

There was laughter on the other end. "Yes, I know. You don't have my twenty grand. It's alright, my little friend."

"Huh?" It took a moment before Raivis' initial shock was washed away by a cool wave of relief. "R-really? Do you mean it, Boss?"

"Yes, dear Raivis. Every word." The voice chuckled and Raivis failed to pick up on its dark edge as he fell against the side of the refrigerator in relief. "Now I need you to be at the Office at exactly 6:00 this evening. Come straight into my office. I have a job waiting for you."

The line went dead. Raivis set the receiver in its proper place and looked at the clock. It was 5:00 PM. He had an hour. Deciding it would be better to be there early than late, Raivis got dressed and grabbed a jacket and keys before leaving the apartment.

The Boss's "office" lay on the fifth floor of a grimy old office building in one of the poorer sections of New York where many of the older buildings stood. Upon arriving at the Office, Raivis did exactly as he was told, climbing the creaky stairs with the faded red carpet five floors.

Upon reaching Ivan's door, Raivis knocked at the wood once...twice. There was no answer. He tried the door knob. It was unlocked and the door swung inward, slowly and silently, reminding him of a horror film. The scarf-wearing Russian was nowhere in sight, but upon closer observation, Raivis noticed a note on top of the mahogany desk that Ivan owned not out of necessity, but because it made him look "official".

He removed the note. On it was a single sentence. Upon reading it, Raivis' body went ridged. Letting out a cry, his hand released the paper, letting it float down to the dirty carpet. He backed away from the note, unintelligible noises issuing from his throat. His eyes were large as saucers with pure primordial fear. Suddenly, something heavy collided with his head, releasing from him a final cry and forcing him to the floor...

Raivis awoke sitting in a chair. His arms and legs were bound and he was not blind-folded, though he found that more frightening than being tied down. The bright florescent lighting was blinding. His surroundings were all gray and very cold. He recognized the place immediately with a small amount of surprise that was over-ridden by a tremendous fear. He was in a parking garage.

His head jerked to look behind him as the sound of a descending elevator broke the frigid silence. Behind him, the black double doors slid back to reveal a small platinum blonde figure. Raivis felt a scream rise to his lips but the only sound that came out was a quiet squeak as he cowered in fear.

"N-Natalia!" He whispered, nearly falling from his chair.


When Natalia had arrived at the Office, where she'd assumed Raivis would be delivered, she found only an empty building. Nobody, not even Gilbert, was standing guard in front of Ivan's office. She'd simply waltzed right in, only to find a lifeless room waiting for her. Every scrap of paper was in place and not a single window was broken, so she knew that Brother had set her up on purpose.

Upon further inspection, she'd discovered a note addressed to her, tucked away in a corner of the massive wooden desk that Ivan kept for appearances. It instructed her towards a parking garage in the Lower East Side. Rough part of town.

She'd taken the elevator down into a space completely foreign to her. Natalia didn't like this situation, but she'd do anything for Brother. After all, there must've been a reason he'd taken her here. Perhaps he'd been joking about Raivis. Perhaps he'd lured her here to kill her.

Or perhaps… dare she hope? Perhaps he'd directed her here so they could escape together.

She'd never admit it, but Natalia had always secretly hoped to get out of the city life – get out of the killing, the torturing, the crime and the regret she knew she should feel. But as long as Brother stayed, so would she.

So, as the black elevator doors slid open, she braced herself for whatever was waiting on the other side. Be it Ivan, or death, or even dear pathetic Raivis, she was ready.

As the fluorescent light of the underground bathed her face, Natalia reached into her belt for her favorite knife. It was a long, thin blade. Good for drawing blood, but not thick enough to kill easily. That way she didn't make as many mistakes. That way they would suffer more.

She stepped out of the elevator, and as she saw a trembling blonde tied to a chair before her, she grinned. So it was only Raivis.

Suddenly it didn't matter to her what reason Ivan had for moving their location. The only thing that mattered was getting Brother the item he desired. And the person who could get that to her had been delivered right to her, head basically on a silver platter.

"Hello, Raivis. Happy to see me? It's been too long."

He was dead. As Raivis stared at Natalia's knife, he realized that he had known all along...ever since Ivan sent him to the Office, he knew the end was coming. Suddenly everything seemed so meaningless; Ivan, the "family", the murder, money, everything. A sort of numbness crept over Raivis as she approached him on catlike feet - deadly silent, the perfect killer. Suddenly, nothing mattered.

"I wouldn't say happy is the right word..." he said. His voice was devoid of all emotion. Not because he wasn't afraid - for his heart currently felt like a sledge hammer as it pounded against his ribs - but because no feeling nor emotion could accurately express the helplessness he felt. It didn't matter what he said or did.

"Oh? What a pity. I would've thought you'd be happy to see me again. I haven't seen you since… well, since you were of use to Brother,"

Natalia let out a chuckle she knew sounded insane. She guessed it was insane, actually. Sane people don't torture and kill for their would-be lovers, now did they?

And as the light reflected off her long knife and into Raivis' eyes, Natalia saw something she didn't normally see until her victims were bloodied and dying. She watched his eyes grow dim with the loss of his hope, before she'd even set a finger on him.

He would be no fun to play with any more. She sighed as she thought of the best way to kill him quickly.

She approached lightly, her small feet making no noise on the cold cement floor. She slipped the blade between her teeth as she bent over him to rip open his shirt above his right shoulder, where she knew the bear tattoo would be.

She saw the pink flesh, inflamed from the recent inking; the death mark that her Brother always gave as a parting gift.

She felt the small man stiffen beneath her, either from the generous sight that her position afforded him, or from fear at knowing what she would do next. It didn't matter much either way. Everyone knows that sex and death are closely related. It is impossible to think of one without the other.

She reached up and gently slid the blade from between her teeth, taking her time. She knew that Raivis would be unable to focus on anything but her lips, so she tortured him with this too. One should use any weapon at their disposal, right? It just so happened that this was one of hers.

Natalia then walked around the chair, so she could see the tattoo clearly; and also so that Raivis was not allowed the sight of her.

She pressed the thin blade deep into the black lines, slowly carving his skin with deft, careful strokes. She heard the first hiss of pain, and slowly felt his agony grow with each new cut. She was surprised and impressed at his self control; most men screamed long before this.

Natalia had only gotten to the front paws of the bear, when she heard the faint whir of the black elevator. It must be on its descent.

Shit. Natalia couldn't afford to let someone find her! She stood quickly, and pocketed her knife. Then, in a farewell gesture, she gave Raivis the lightest kiss on the lips before slipping into the emergency staircase. She wasn't quick enough, however, and just as her head disappeared through the door, she thought she heard a strange voice call for her to stop. She just kept running.


Matt stepped out of the elevator in the parking garage, grumbling to himself. Why did he always have to run all the errands around this place? Matt, go get my car. Matt, feed me. Matt, do whatever I want because I'm your selfish lazy brother that you're too nice to abandon.

Damn Yank.

As the doors slid open, however, a most peculiar scene greeted him. The first thing he saw was blood. That registered clearly, in his policeman's mind. Then he immediately started searching for the perp. He spotted a platinum blond head disappear through the emergency staircase. A woman?

Perhaps she had been the victim. He was about to pursue her, when the man before him let out a soft moan. Oh, yeah, the blood. It had to be coming from somewhere. He looked down to see a small blond man tied to a chair. The most sickening part, however, was not the state of his front. It was the bear tattoo on his upper right shoulder, halfway carved into his skin with some sort of knife or razor blade.

The Bear Serial Killer.

Could it possibly be that innocent looking girl?

Either way, it didn't matter, because this man needed to get to a hospital.

"Hello, sir, I'm here to help. I'm a police officer. I'll get you out of here in no time. What's your name?"