(500 words. Prompt based off this post: allofthefeelings . tumblr post/131680478195/i-just-had-the-worlds-most-amazing-fandom-dream)
Billie climbed through the attic window first and shuddered as soon as she was beyond the threshold. "Definitely a few in here," she said, her lip curling with distaste. "These old buildings always draw them in. We're clear for now, though."
Daud nodded and followed her in. He slipped a hand under his coat to make sure the scythe was folded and strapped to his hip alongside the more conventional weapons. "Let's hope none of them are in an interfering mood. This will be a difficult enough job as it is."
"I wouldn't get too hopeful," she said with a scowl as another shudder passed through her body.
Most of his Whalers were hunters if they were anything. Billie's particular gift was as rare as it was valuable, but she did not much care for it. Killing had always been more her style, and he knew her fingers still itched to swing the scythe herself instead of luring spirits in with soothing talk and telling Daud where to aim his blows.
The scythe was forged from deep black pieces of Void and would tear apart anyone not meant to wield it. He had let her touch it once, shortly after its construction, to prove the point. The burns on her hands had taken weeks to fully heal, and she had not asked again.
He hoped she had learned to content herself instead with how invaluable her talent made her to him. Her ruthlessness and skill with the blade had made her a Whaler, but it was her rare gift that kept her at his side for every hit.
Angry spirits were a common danger when you made your living killing for coin.
They crept their way through the dark attic and down the narrow servants' stairs on their way to their target's rooms. Halfway down the corridor, Billie suddenly stopped dead, her shoulders tense and drawn as she stared at the empty space in front of her.
Daud moved his hand from the grip of his whaling blade to the handle of the scythe and took a step closer to Billie's side. "A threat?" he asked in an undertone.
She jerked slightly at the sound of his voice, then quickly shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she answered, matching his low volume. "Dead serving girl, young, bruises around the neck. She feels new." Billie's hand went to her own throat unconsciously, and she grimaced. "I guess the master lost his temper. No wonder someone wants him killed."
Daud kept his hand on the scythe. "Do we need to do anything about her?" he asked.
Billie hesitated, biting her lip and drumming her fingers against her own blade, but she eventually shook her head. "No, she won't be any trouble, and I know we don't have the time for a mercy swing," she said with a sigh. "Let's just kill this bastard and collect our coin. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to be."