Thanks all for patience. I can't begin to tell you how good it feels to have taken that little rest and have promised myself now I won't rush my chapters any more. I think I can put up better work that way.

I hope you like what I did with that chapter; I've been playing a bit of VTMB and other games (including Elder Scrolls. Love the Dark Brotherhood quests) and thought this could be a fresh, if slightly way of doing this mission.


By the next day we still hadn't heard from Valderama, and Tera was getting anxious. I'd tried to tell her to be patient, but now all she seemed to be able to do was skulk around the hideout in a bad mood.

I couldn't care less. Yeah, if Ultor got itself a new asshole ripped by exposing their freaky experiments, great. But it wouldn't stop what was already happening in the red light district and Shivington. Ultor was spreading outwards like an infectious disease; I'd first noticed it when TeeNay, the strip club on the renovated boardwalk suddenly closed. On the boards out the front was a notice, indicating a 'luxurious and sophisticated new facilities' to be opening soon, the slogan surrounded by pictures of upper-middle class folks enjoying an upper-middle class lifestyle. The little Ultor star was signed in the corner. What's worse is that I was certain it wasn't the only property they were buying up; I'd received notices through one or two of my aliases that Ultor wanted to buy a few of the properties I'd bought in the area (they clearly had no idea who they were really talking to). It wouldn't be long now… they'd start with the businesses, sweep west into Shivington and buy the ruined, burn-out buildings… then send everything they had to eliminate Us.

I'd had Pierce and Shaundi call together their crews and then told them to phone-tree it down. By noon that day, the hideout was packed with local or long-term Saints, milling about and making the air buzz with their curious chatter. I'd locked myself away in my room for a few minutes to get my head together and wait for everyone to be there, till eventually there was a knock at my door, and Pierce poked his head around.

"Pretty sure that's everyone Boss," he said and I nodded mutely, getting to my feet. Stepping out into the hallway the noise pressed in hotly from all sides; I made my way down the stairs, people starting to hush as I did – Gat and Shaundi were already waiting by the statue on the mid level, quietly and seriously discussing something till they saw me. Gat gave a nod, then turned to face the milling crowd of purple below.

"Alright assholes listen up!" he suddenly called out, his voice deeper and echoing around the room and above the heads. The crowd suddenly quieted, and I stood quite still as Johnny continued, "Some of you mighta noticed that Ultor has decided to start fucking with us. Now if there's one thing history has taught us, it's that anyone who picks a fight with the Saints is likely to experience a ton of rapidly approaching ass-kickery."

A resounding cheer went up and someone fired a shot in the air, only to be quickly chastised when a lump of plaster fell down on someone else's head. I shot the small patch of people a cold look and they quickly pulled themselves in under my gaze. Johnny continued as the noise died down.

"You might be wondering what the fuck is happening that we gone from fuckin up gang bangers to rippin' apart a multi national billion dollar corporation. So pay attention, shits about to get complicated-"

He looked to me then, giving me a confident smile and stepping aside. I walked slowly to the centre, standing in front of my statue, quiet for a few beats till I was sure I had everyone's attention. The curious faces were all settled on me-

"… Ultor wants every Saint, every last one, dead or behind bars," I said. They were silent, and the room was cavernous; I didn't have to shout to be heard. That, and starting out softly was a good way to make sure everyone strained to hear you, "And from what you've seen you know they sure as shit are gonna go to any length they can to make it happen… I know a lot of you grew up on the Row, I know how many of you, your friends, your families, were turfed outta there with nowhere to go when Ultor took over," I continued gently, looking about at a few familiar faces, many of them nodding. I gave a slight pause before continuing, "And they're gonna do it again to Shivington and the projects," at that I heard a slight hush as a few Saints actually gasped, and angry murmurs amongst them. I used that anger now, and lifted my voice a little louder, "As we speak, they're buying up the land from under us and getting ready to sweep through again and try to take out anyone who stands in their way. So before they do, we will destroy them."

The darkness of my own voice surprised me, let alone my listeners. Some gave a few aggressive shouts, and I fed from their growing energy, pushing them "Are you going to let those Ultor fucks throw you out of your homes?" I was answered by more angry shouts, "You gonna let them turf our people out so they can put a Starbucks on every corner?"

They roared back furiously at the thought and I felt a dark smile twitch at my lips.

"That's the fuckin spirit," I agreed, "Now you listen to me, I want you all ready. Artemis!"

Pierce's right-hand man blinked at me suddenly, eyes wide with surprise at being addressed directly, perhaps amazed I even knew his name, "You're in charge of training up for firearms," I said sternly and he nodded, "We might have plenty of weaponry but it aint worth shit if you can't shoot straight. You see a single person holding their gun on the side or shooting from the hip, give'm a swift kick in the nuts. Not kidding."

I saw his shoulder shrug with a silent laugh and he nodded, "Okay. What if it's a girl?"

I threw my hands up with exasperation, "Then kick her in the cunt, I don't care if you loose a shoe!" a few laughs replied, but I ignored them, hunting out the next familiar face, "Wheeler!" I called out, and the Saint's number one racer smiled up at me excitedly when he realised he'd been singled out, "Get your best team together and get practising; we need scramble strategies and someone always ready to be called on for quick getaways. I also want those cars in top condition, go to any of the Rim Jobs I own, they'll set you up."

"No prah'blem!" he replied with a thick Brooklyn accent and signalling off a small salute.

I searched the crowd again with a scowl, "Tasha, Mongrel, Reece, you all here?"

I got a two 'yep's and three raised hands, "I want you guys training everyone in hand to hand, they gotta be in top fightin' condition, no one getting soft. Everyone, if you're not runnin a job, you're training. We might'a been badasses before but we've gotta be fuckin invincible if we're gonna protect what's ours!"

I drew another breath, giving myself a moment to take in everyone's reactions. Most were eager, some were still looking about questioningly. But, orders were given; anyone who didn't want to comply would be out on their asses with nothing but the clothes on their back. But for every Saint who played ball-

"Now don't you guys worry about weapons or armour or anything," I said with assurance, "You're all taken care of. It's gonna be tough work, but we are gonna show those Ultor mutha-lickers they made a big fuckin mistake when they decided to fuck with the Saints!"

Fists were thrown into the air as the Saints replied with a gutsy war-cry. I know there were plenty in the gang who'd gotten restless after we'd taken out the other gangs, with no one left to fight, but now with a new enemy, many seemed invigorated. I smiled to myself, seeing the crowd

"God damn," Pierce muttered approvingly as I relaxed back, hands on hips. I shot him a straight look;

"Pierce, I need some numbers on how many Saints we need to kit out and how many are stayin here," I said quickly, "We're gonna have to feed'm as well-"

"Boss, you bank rollin' this army of yours?" Shaundi piped up, stepping towards me quickly. I had to admit, it was an odd question. I blinked at her.

"Yeah," Gat interjected flatly, "What else we gonna spend money on?"

"Shit, I can think of a few things," Pierce said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes.

"Pierce I don't really need a gold-plated hot tub or an in-house movie theatre. I need a fucking army," I said shortly and he was quickly chastised.

"Right… well uh, I'll get to work on those numbers for you," he mumbled, turning and heading off down the stairs. I turned on Shaundi then.

"Shaundi, you're-"

"Strategies and intel?" she said with a lazy smile, then threw me a wink as she sauntered down the stairs after Pierce, "On it Boss."

There was a beat before I felt his eyes on me – Johnny was still leaning up against the marble railing, a hint of a dark smirk on his lips.

"… Waitin' for orders Captain," he said wryly and I tilted my head.

"Captain?"

"'Boss' is getting a bit old. Never expected it would catch on the way it did."

"Or that people would take it so seriously?" I replied with a cool smile, "Captain is a little naval for my liking."

Hi smile widened, "Not a fan of boats? It's ironic, the hipsters would love it."

"Stick to what you usually call me," I said, the smile breaking free on my lips and I shook my head, turning to look back out at the now buzzing and active crowd below.

"Hn, fair enough," he said as he wandered past behind me, though I felt him pause and leant in from behind and continued lowly, "Though I don't think 'oh fuck yes' is quite as catchy,"

I could only answer with a slight blush and swift elbow back, which he took with good grace, moving around me and down the stairs. Damn distraction.


You know what's great about the Saints? When you Google us you don't find out details about our chain of command. Not so with Ultor; hell, their friendly website had profiles of all their smiling directors. No addresses or names of kidnap-able next of kin, but still, good to know.

It wasn't my most profound method of investigation, but it was quick and a good start point. I wanted their faces fresh and imprinted on my memory so there would never be a doubt in my mind when it came to the hit.

Part of me wanted to go around, one by one and cross off each one of those names personally, like I used to with the old Hit Lists I did. Now, hits involved creative killing – you were out there on your own, sometimes there were specifications about how to carry out the contract… maybe you had to be quiet, use a knife, maybe you had to make it look like an accident. It was a craft; hits were a way I'd started out, when I realised how much money was to be made and was one of my first leg-ups out of poverty.

What else I liked was the fact it was a lone sport; total removal from the world, no gangs, no politics, only you and the life you had to take. When was the last time I'd been able to be totally alone? Even when I was painting people were calling me or coming in and talking to me, bugging me… hey, I had responsibilities, I got that, but…

"I need a holiday…" I murmured to myself, leaning back and scowling at the screen before me. If I decided to turn the board of directors into a hit list I could use it as an excuse to be left alone for a while – no one would question it and I'd still technically be fighting Ultor, it just wouldn't really feel like it. Johnny could take care of business back here, surely?

I glanced up from the screen when I heard footsteps, seeing Pierce crossing the carpet towards me, a manila envelope in hand, which he handed to me wordlessly. I raised an eyebrow at it-

"What's this?" I asked, unwilling to open it right away. It had 'SAINTS: Dear Leader' in small, fine print across the top of it.

"Dunno," he replied, "Found it here and it was addressed to you."

I felt him move around to the back of my chair to look over my shoulder as I slit the envelope open, pulling out a thin newspaper clipping. There was a picture of a yacht, with bold print, "ULTOR THROWS FUNDRAISING GALA".

I scanned the clip shortly – the gala was being held tonight on a boat off the east coast of the island, a lot of high-ranking and influential people were set to be there… and of course, many members on my unofficial 'Death List'.

"Lookin to crash a party?" Pierce asked dryly and I got up to my feet, still scanning the newsprint.

"Thinking about it," I murmured back, slowly pacing around my desk.

"Well your history with boats is pretty solid so uh, this seems like a pretty good idea," he said and I glanced back at him darkly. Invitation to a party on a boat, awfully familiar. Still, with so many targets in one locale, it'd be daft to pass the chance up. Best turn to the lieutenant who'd be my deepest well of intel.

"Alright. I'm gonna find Shaundi-" I said, walking from my office.

"Don't you care who sent it?" I heard Pierce call out after me.

"Nope."

"But it's probably a trap!"

"Yep."


"The yacht will be under escort by a handful of security boats; I'm estimating two or three but seeing how close they'll be sailing to the Ultor Marina base we can guess they'll get backup quickly, not to mention any rescue choppers they decide to send out." Shaundi said, scrawling over a piece of road map that showed the largest section of water next to the Row. It had only taken her a half hour to track down an old friend at the docks; she had by now pretty well secured herself as my go-to when it came to information.

"Make it harder to get on the boat after it's left too…" I muttered discontentedly, "What are the chances of getting on before it leaves the docks?"

"Slim to none without an invite," she said, resting her elbows on the bar top, a thumb to her chin thoughtfully.

"We could try getting on as wait staff…" I mused. I'd carried out a stealth hit like that once when I was about nineteen. Pretended to be a drinks waitress (some men just can't hold their arsenic…)

"No can do," Shaundi said with a shake of her head, "Private contracting on crew and all service people, no new faces allowed."

I sighed, "Guess they anticipated that then…"

"…There is another option." Shaundi ventured. I raised an eyebrow at her tentative tone.

"What?"

"Entertainment." She replied flatly. I gave her a long look and she continued, "Some'o my girlfriends have worked Ultor parties before, sometimes dancing, sometimes just sitting on the laps of filthy rich old men and having drinks bought for them and five dollar bills suck into their underwear. It's all refined till about midnight, but then the old bastards start getting grab-assey and need a little extra company."

"You're saying there's gonna be hookers on this cruise?" I asked, interested.

"It's not something they'll advertise, but yeah," she said with an easy nod, "What better way to charm the old moneybags into donating? Not to mention, it'll be the only thing they're not regulating…"

I blinked, then gave her a long glance, "…You want me to sneak on board as a hoo-"

"Lady of the evening, yes."

I thought on it for a moment; seemed to be the easiest way to get on board. And a good way to get close to some of the old codgers.

"… Alright," I consented, though added with an afterthought, "Don't know where I'm gonna hide my gun, but alright."

I stood up, ready to head to my room and start, well, dressing up like a high-class hooker when Shaundi piped up behind me.

"Hey, I'm coming too!" she called out.

Oh balls. "I can handle this one Shaundi," I threw over my shoulder, but she didn't give up, getting to her feet and following me up the stairs of the hideout,

"Boss it's been ages since we've hung out, c'mon! I wanna have some fun!" she said with a pout, then glanced as me slyly when she noticed me begin to slow, "… I'll say bitchy things about Tera on the way-"

Hmn. Tempting. "No."

"It's a whole boatful of people you'll need backup!"

"Shaundi-"

"Are you seriously saying after everything we've been through you still don't think I can handle it?" she said, quickly putting herself in my way and I had to halt.

"This hasn't got anything to do with you!" I interrupted her, and she lent back, folding her arms across her petite frame. I felt my shoulders drop; she was right, another set of eyes on that boat wouldn't hurt, and my wanting to pull the lone-wolf routine was clouding my judgement.

"Fine. I'll need to borrow a dress anyway," I said, brushing past her. I heard her give a short laugh after me.

"You don't have one?" she called out and I glanced quizzically over my shoulder at her.

"Had. It got shredded when I was jumped by the masako," I informed her, "Aside from that, you ever seen me in a dress?"

Shaundi just smiled, shaking her head and trotting after me.


It was going to be a nice evening; winter was broken, and though the air was crisp it wasn't bitingly cold. The skies were clear and Venus winked at us, waiting for the rest of the stars to come out. I walked with Shaundi down the wooden docks towards where the huge yacht was docked, finely dressed people milling about and getting ready to board. I crushed the uneasy feeling in my stomach as I felt the déjà vu washing over me.

"Can I just say again, I love that wig on you." Shaundi said sweetly, her arm linked with mine. I had to admit, she was smokin. She had a strapless black, slit-to-there dress on and her dreadlocks were covered by a long sheer veil that she somehow managed to make sexy instead of modest. It wasn't just to cover the dreads to look classy; I knew for a fact she was actually hiding vials of drugs and poison in her hair. Clever girl!

I'd donned old trusty red, the strawberry bob wig, and a fitted red dress I'd only just managed to fit into. It was fine around the middle, but I was a bit more tits-and-ass than Shaundi was so it was taking some adjusting. Lighter on the eye makeup too, and bright red lipstick on that I thought made me look like a clown but Shaundi insisted was sexy.

"Yeah, it's pretty cute," I said, twisting a short lock into a curl over my cheek, "Wondering if I should expand my collection. Blonde, maybe?"

Shaundi shook her head, "You don't have the skin tone for that."

"I guess I am a bit pale…" I said as I glanced down briefly at my skin and Shaundi nudged me affectionately.

"Hey, sickly is the new sexy."

We both fell silent when we reached the crowd, trying to look inconspicuous as we passed them, heading towards a second boarding bridge further down. There was no crowd there, but it was still guarded by one Ultor cop. We slowed when we reached him, and I slouched on my hip, trying to look sexy.

I don't think I actually look sexy when I try to look sexy though.

"Hey honey," I said, trying to sound husky and Shaundi batted her eyelashes at him.

His eyes glanced briefly to my tits before snapping back up to my face, "Guest entrance is down the other end mam."

Mam. He mam'd me. "Miss," I corrected hotly, "Scarlet. And Mr. Vogel asked that we don't actually board with the other guests."

He shifted uncomfortably under my gaze and glanced from me to Shaundi, "And you are…?"

"I guess you could say we're tonight's incentives," Shaundi said sweetly with a hint of a playful giggle. I should be taking notes from her…

"Cookie, the man don't have time for word games," I said tiredly, checking my nails pointedly as I slipped into my role a little more comfortably.

"No, no, I understand," the guard said quickly, if a little uncomfortably, "Mr. Phillips usually handles this side of the entertainment but huh, please, step aboard," he said, moving aside and feeling now much more free to stare at our good stuff. I wanted to gouge out his fucking eyes, but then, that was just me. I'd half been expecting a pat-down, but then, I guess our dresses were so tight he didn't have to. Good thing too – otherwise he might have noticed the knife taped to the inside of my thigh.

"Do we get a room key or just go with whatever's available?" Shaundi threw over her shoulder as we made out way up the boardwalk to the boat. He faltered and cleared his throat.

"Huh… I can radio the steward; you can talk to him about that," he assured us and I forced a smile.

"Thanks sugar," I said with a wave of my hand, and we stepped onto the boat deck.

"… Cookie?" Shaundi asked me dryly and I nodded with a mean smile.

"That's your name now."

She snorted, "Okay Miss Scarlet." She finally unhooked her arm from mine, sticking both hands on her hips, "So, we get our bearings, pick a room and…"

"Do what we do best."


It was about half an hour before the yacht finally set sail, and I'd snagged two champagnes from a passing waiter as soon as I saw we were leaving the dock. Hate boats…

"Oh thanks," Shaundi said happily and took one of my glasses. I was about to tell her they were both for me, but it was probably a good idea for me to be as sober as possible for this task. I took a hearty mouthful and leant against the railing of the boat, avoiding the looks of as many people as possible. I watched as the sea foam began kicking up as the boat picked up speed, and behind us the softly twinkling lights of the docks shrunk. Shaundi had been leaning against the railing with me, but facing the crowd, taking them all in. At my long silence, she continued talking.

"So, when do we start?" she asked calmly. I glanced sidewards at her and was a little surprised; though she was calm and motionless, it wasn't her usual laid-back care-less attitude. It was still and calculating as she studied the crowd.

"When we're a little further out and everyone's had a bit more to drink," I assured her, pointedly taking another mouthful of champagne. Another small silence hung before I continued, "You know, as much as I hate boats this cruise really doesn't seem so bad. Ocean air, five hundred dollar champagne… maybe we should've brought a few more girls with us."

Shaundi gave a lyrical chuckle next to me, throwing me a familiar smile, "Even Tera?"

I blinked, lifting my chin with what I hoped was refinement and indifference. "Would've been good to get her out of the hideout for a while…"

"Yeah, she would've easily passed for a hooker," Shaundi said with a nudge. I knew she didn't think of Tera like that but she was egging me on anyway, I could feel it. She didn't stop either- "You know, for a woman who puts on her makeup with a spatula."

"Shaundi, I'm not doing this," I replied lightly with a hint of snobbishness, "It's childish and petty and entirely unfounded."

Chastised, she looked away. I found myself tapping my foot in the sudden silence and continued:

"I didn't say you shouldn't."

"Ohmaigahd how fake are her tits, right?" She said with a sudden laugh as she turned to me and I snorted as I tried to hold back my laugh.

"You're sweet," I said with a nudge and she winked at me. I turned away from the water and let my gaze fall back on the party.

"You locate any of them?" I asked. Shaundi nodded, quickly back to business.

"So far, I seen Goldstein, Zhao, Kingston, Burke and Chesterfield," she assured me, "Could be more, but not that I seen so far."

I nodded, taking a calm sip of my champagne. "Okay," I said quietly, "We go by opportunity. Kingston we might have to follow, Burke shouldn't be a problem to lure. The others… get some booze into them I suppose."

Shaundi nodded, pleased enough with the plan, "Alright then. Let's mingle."


The plan was tricky. I had considered an all-out massacre on the boat, but I wanted to save our resources. Going big-scale would take a lot of troops and I didn't want to wear them out just yet. So, We find our targets, get a room, quietly take them out one by one and try not to get noticed doing it, storing the bodies in the bedroom. Shaundi was surprised when I said that, expecting us to be dumping them overboard but I insisted that was the second option of disposal. I didn't tell Shaundi the last part of the plan, or why I wanted the bodies hidden in that room. Might give her nightmares.

Shaundi had already been able to get close to Zhao; he'd taken a real shine to her, and given a little more time he shouldn't be too hard to entice away. However, I gave her a short signal when I noticed one of our little sheep separating herself from the flock, and quickly followed, feeling Shaundi following at a short distance.

Target One. Amelia Kingston, forty two, head of PR and senior member of the board. I followed her quietly through the narrow hallway – she slipped into a bathroom and I went in after, seeing her lock herself away in a cubicle. I twisted my mouth, heading for the sinks and taking out a small purse, hunting for some sort of makeup stuff and pretending to gussy up. After a beat I heard her flush and she stepped out, sidling up next to me and inadvertently shoving me out of the way as she went to wash her hands. I blinked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled at it.

"…Mrs Kingston?" I asked curiously. Her gaze met mine coldly in the mirror and she shook her hands dry.

"Can I help you?" she asked, though the tone said 'don't talk to me whore'. I tilted my head sweetly.

"I just wanted to say how much I admire your work," I said softly. She blinked at me haughtily, "It mustn't be easy in a man's world."

"No," she said decidedly, adjusting a very nice and rather expensive looking diamond necklace, then turned and gave me a hard stare, "Not if you're letting it be a man's world."

Wow… this woman was a ball-buster. I'd let myself truly admire her if I didn't have to kill her in a matter of seconds. She brushed past me, and once her back was to me I pulled a retractable wire from my bracelet and silently slipped out of my heels.

"…Right," I said softly, "It's all about equality."

I closed in on my prey in two quick steps and looped the wire over her head and around her throat, pulling back sharply. The woman tried to yelp but couldn't; she flailed weakly against me but I only pulled tighter. She threw out a foot and it loudly kicked the door and I quickly walked backwards, wrestling her to the ground. I held on. I held on and watched as the woman's face slowly turned blue and her swollen tongue slip from between her lips and her eyes were dead and bloodshot. The kill took the breath out of me… it had been so long since I'd taken a life like this, so slowly and up close. It was almost exhilarating, fascinating to watch. The body was limp beneath me, and eventually I released the wire and stood, freeing a shaky breath. I quietly took a few steps back over the cold tiles, slipped my heels back on then crept to the door, knocking softly.

"Shaundi, we clear?" I cooed, waiting for her answer…


Shaundi leant against the wall of the narrow hallway, glancing nervously towards the bathroom door. Another woman, her mousey hair bound up tightly into a beehive and wearing a dress that cost more than a blue-collar salary, soon came up and looked to her quizzically.

"Ugh, lines, really?" she said with a good deal of dignified annoyance. Shaundi gave a sympathetic roll of her eyes.

"I know. You'd think they could have found a boat more accommodating, there's a few more waiting inside…" she said with a sigh and the other woman threw her hands up. Shaundi shifted, "I think there's another bathroom on the next deck up?"

THUD. Both women looked to the bathroom door as it violently jolted and Shaundi forced a cheeky smile.

"Ooh, sounds someone's had a bit too much already!" she said tapping the other woman on the arm. The party guest just put a hand over her mouth to hide her scandalous smile.

"Well, I'm going to try upstairs," she said, quickly trotting off, probably to tell people about the drunkard in the bathroom. Shaundi waved her off then bit her lip as she looked back to the door.

"… Shaundi, we clear?" she heard the Boss query lowly from the other side of the door. She spared a quick glance up and down the hall.

"Yep, c'mon…" she said and the door slid open – after a moment she saw the Boss hoisting the body of Amelia Kingston up and quickly moved to help her, sparing one more nervous glance down the hallway before the swiftly dragged her towards the reserved bedroom.


"Miss Scarlet, in the bathroom, with the retractable wire!" Shaundi grunted with a wry smile as we stuffed the corpse into the wardrobe, sliding the door closed over it. I couldn't help but grin and shake my head, looking about our room. It was nothing special; taupe with fresh modern furniture and a queen sized bed, hints of a nautical theme but that was about it. Functional, pleasant, modern, dull. Very Ultor. I noticed with a dark smile a few objects, walking over to a small dresser.

"Hmn. Cookie, in the bedroom… with a candlestick?" I offered with a laughing smile as I held up a beautiful glass candlestick and Shaundi cupped a hand over her smiling mouth. I continued after a beat, "So far so good. Let's see who goes next."

Richard Burke. Fifty nine and Managing Director. Tripped and drowned in a toilet he forgot to flush.

Lee Zhao. Thirty five. Head of HR and youngest member on the board after Dane Vogel. Followed my ass to the bedroom but didn't duck fast enough when the base of a glass candlestick flew at his head.

Rudy Goldstein. Fifty one. Head of development, senior member of the board. Seen being sick over the side of the boat; accidentally ran into a knife seven times and fell overboard.

Marianne Chesterfield. Thirty nine and Director of product development. Tragically forgot she was allergic to lethal doses of PCP and accidentally drank a champagne glass containing it.

With a grunt we lurched Chesterfield's body onto the bed; foam was spilling from her mouth and her eyes rolled in her skull. Shaundi grunted, wiping a little sweat from her brow.

"Okay. Now what?" she said with a huff, sticking her hands onto her hips, but I was already dragging Zhao out from under the bed, and, curious, Shaundi went to the closet to let Kingston and Goldstein flop out onto the carpet.

"Now… things are gonna get messy," I said, wincing as I un-taped the knife from my leg again, narrowing my eyes at Shaundi, "Go check out escape route. I'll be with you soon."

"What are you going to do? She asked inquisitively. The time when I might have shrugged her off was done.

"Killing them isn't enough… we need to make a statement," I said darkly then looked over to her, "But I want it to be a surprise. Don't worry. I'm taking pictures."

Shaundi tilted her head and smiled, but didn't push it, only turning on her heel and slipping out of the door, carefully locking it behind her. I turned to the bodies, twirling my knife between my fingers. I didn't have much time; pretty soon the rest of the party-goers would begin to notice a few faces were missing and I had to get off the boat before they really started looking. I dragged Chesterfield's body half off the bed so her head rested on the carpet, resting a hand under her neck to expose the skin a little more, and slowly dragged my knife across it. With no heartbeat, I'd have to use gravity to get the blood out of the bodies. Slowly, the wine-red liquid began to seep over the cream carpet and I turned to the dresser, quickly reaching out for a vase that I tipped the flowers out of, holding it to her neck and letting it slowly fill. I know I should have thought of this as macabre, but as I began throwing the blood onto the walls, I found myself enchanted; it was like a Jackson Pollock, I thought with a smile. I guess it takes a special kind of person to see past the horror and find the poetry; when I was in school and learning to draw I used to use pieces of bone for still life, singular vertebrae being my favourite. I loved the shapes; I thought it was fascinating that an object so strange and alien was actually the structure of every human.

By the time I'd drained the second body I guessed whoever found this room wasn't going to see things my way. Not that I cared, that was kind of the point. Still, I couldn't help but feel a maudlin sense of pride in my work when I was done, even as I began washing the blood from my hands and arms in the cramped ensuite. The last two bodies I just slit the neck of and hoped they'd still manage to drain alright onto the carpet, I didn't have time to get creative with them.

Breathlessly I slipped out of the room into the thin hallway, carefully closing the door behind me; a jolted a little as I heard a loud laugh and a couple went barrelling down past me, both drunk and I'm guessing not paying attention to the shifty looking hooker with bloodstains on her dress. I cringed in disgust as the man, pudgy, sweaty and old grabbed the woman's ass as she stumbled into another bedroom, forcing a smile over her inebriated face as she grabbed him by the tie, tugging him in after her. Amazing I could find them so vile after what I'd just done… wordlessly I continued down the hall, decidedly eager to get off this damn boat now my work was done, rounding a corner and shoving the door open to the deck, the crisp air suddenly racing over my skin along with a salt spray as the boat chugged slowly onwards through the water. My heels clacked softly over the wood as I walked briskly to the stern, carefully moving down the stairs, which led to a flat sort of dock that sat at water level. Shaundi was already waiting, barefoot and her dress tied up onto her hips. She waved me over when she saw me and moved quickly to one of the little speedboats that were tied up at the side of the small dock, jolting awkwardly as the yacht dragged them over the ocean. She already had one running, and was wordlessly untying it.

I slipped quickly into the small waiting speedboat and helped her in after me; we were quiet, focused more on making out quick getaway- once the ropes were freed, our little boat dropped back, and the yacht charged on without us. Shaundi watched it go, her eyes distant in thought, so I moved to the controls and revved the engine, turning the boat in the water and heading back home.

In the distance over the sound of wind and water and the roaring engine, was a soul-rending scream from onboard the yacht. I glanced over my shoulder with a dark smile.

"I guess they found my artwork then," I said with a soft smile as we turned down the canal between the two islands.


I think we both breathed a sigh of relief as we reached the small Bavogian Plaza docks and stepped back home into the raw and grungy red-light and projects district. Behind us in the distance was the roaring of helicopters and screaming of sirens as, I supposed, the yacht was being swamped by cops. I was feeling good; it had been an interesting and productive night, and the scum of the city welcomed us back each in their own wonderful way; a homeless junkie reached out a hand and I tossed him a note I had stuffed down the front of my bra (hey, success had put me in a philanthropic mood). A hooker blew us a kiss from her doorway and we politely waved it off. And the crazy prophet was out tonight, baying at the moon and waving his red and white sign above his head-

"The end is nigh!" he shouted blindly into the air, though there were no people around to hear him, "The earth is expelling the dead from within her, they rise! They rise!"

Weirdly I found myself smiling at him; Ahh, my people… he rounded his bulging eyes to me, crying out his own welcome home,

"Woman! There are deeemons inside you!"

"Yeah," I said serenely, "We actually have a very symbiotic relationship."

I heard Shaundi chuckle peacefully next to me as we passed him and he continued screaming his prophetic nonsense to no one.

"… So. Good girl's night out, Miss Scarlet?" she asked, turning to smile easily at me.

"Certainly was Cookie."


I've always thought bitching about girls behind their back was unsisterly and petty, but hey, it happens, no point denying it.

AND YES I realise I stole yet another of MDGeistMD02's characters. Everyone say hello to Artemis ;)