The sun was just beginning to dip through the blinds of Beatrix's apartment, but Beatrix wouldn't know if the sun was dipping through, as she was outside on the curb. She was clad in a pair of faded blue jeans with numerous holes, a dark brown t-shirt with a round neck, a suede camel colored jacket, and a pair of heavy waterproof boots. Locks of blonde hair were down and blowing wistfully in the early morning breeze. It was hard to read her expression beneath a pair of dark shaded sunglasses but the crease in her eyebrows showed she was far from content. Her head turned to the sound of screeching tires on the pavement. Ah, Elle had arrived.
A black convertible 78' Trans Am came flying around the corner that led to the parking lot of Beatrix's apartment.
Wild blonde hair flying in the breeze, Elle Driver came to a screeching halt right in front of the other blonde, the bumper of the car mere inches away from Beatrix's kneecaps. Elle sneered, a cigarette clinging to her lips. Her stereo was blasting the rip roaring punk, metal thrashings of the band L7. She reached long bony fingers over to turn it down, just a bit.
"Hey baby...how much per fuck?" She laughed, obviously rather crudely teasing Beatrix about her position of standing outside on the curb. "Oh wait...wait…we're in Mexico..um...give me a sec...cuánto cuesta...pour...fuck...eh...chica?" Obviously Elle's Spanish was a little lacking. Her smile hardened a bit, and then fell into a frown, "Whatever...let's just go..." She continued to frown as Beatrix got into the car.
Slamming down on the gas petal with her stilettoed heel, she sent the wheels spinning for a few seconds, before they squealed out of the parking lot. She then turned the music back up to a blaring level.
"Seventy-five," Beatrix tried to yell over the ear-deafening music. When Elle ignored her and not to just be fucking annoying, but because she really couldn't hear, Beatrix jabbed a long white finger against the radio and the music turned off. When Elle gave her a chilly glare with that one eye Beatrix gave an equally chilly smile. "Seventy-five dollars a fuck," she stated again with a jubilant tone in her voice, her chin tilted up smugly. How Beatrix knew the going rate per fuck in Mexico was quite a question that would have quite an answer but Beatrix quite surely wouldn't tell. And with that she turned the blasting music back on.
Seeing it was so early in the morning they didn't have too much traffic getting to the airport. Beatrix felt like she had just been on a plane, which she had been, and wasn't looking forward to another round but at least this flight was shorter. Unfortunately the two blondes had to sit next to one another on the flight. The stewardess gave out complimentary peanuts; no cheese and bread, to the passengers after take off. Beatrix was idly picking at the food as she stared off aimlessly, her thoughts wondering.
"Hrm, I love nuts," Elle announced rather loudly as she chomped down nearly as loudly on a massive amount of peanuts...the entire contents of the packet just having been dumped into her mouth. She chewed like this for a few long moments, giving Beatrix a long look, "Mmm..so..." she stopped suddenly, "Augh...," she looked around frantically for a drink, now realizing the effects of eating a giant wad of peanuts all at once. Her own drink, a seven dollar glass of wine was long gone, and in desperation, Elle reached across and grabbed Beatrix's Slice. She drained the plastic cup in one long swill. She then made a loud "Ahhhh," noise and set the empty glass on the tray in front of the other blonde. Small bits of peanut were now on the rim. "Oops...sorry Bea," Elle flicked the bits off with a long finger, "There...good as new...," she smirked, "Don't get your little cotton
panties in a wad, I'll buy ya another one."
Elle took a moment to smack her lips and make sure she could properly speak again. "So...Bea," she began anew, "...I can picture Bill doing a lot of things, hrm..," a small, perhaps rather suggestive chuckle escaped her, "….a lot of things...But," she laughed a short little trill laugh, "...going to Paris for vacation is not one of them."
Just then, one of the stewardesses walked by and Elle reached out and snagged the woman by the arm, which surprised the poor stewardess a bit, this not being the typical way people tended to get her attention. "Can we get...one more of those delicious, thirst quenching Slice's and...hrm..a Screwdriver please?" Elle cooed, giving the staring stewardess a big smile.
The stewardess faltered, "Ah...I'm not sure...if we serve mixed drinks on this flight ma'am, I-"
"Oh for Christ's sake!" Elle's voice rose to a near shout. Even more people turned around in their seats to look at her, "Give me the fucking vodka and the fucking orange juice and I'll make it myself!"
The stewardess yanked her arm away from Elle's grip, now looking a little miffed, "I'll see what I can do ma'am.." she replied in a stern tone and quickly bustled up the aisle.
With pursed lips, Elle leaned back into her seat, "It's rather silly," she said, back to her 'normal' conversational tone of voice, as if the stewardess had never even walked by, "I mean...I could see Bill in India or like...Spain maybe, but not Paris..." There were times where Elle was trying to get to a point and there were other times where she was simply making annoyingly inane conversation to piss people off. The thing was, it was often hard to tell which one she was doing.
God, Elle was being fucking annoying but Beatrix was being calm about it. She kept a completely straight face when Elle stole her drink and left food fragments on it, even if she had the sensation to stuff the fucking thing down her throat. No, she was as cool as a cucumber, or so the saying goes and she had to remain so for both their sakes. The tall blonde casually turned her head in Elle's direction, for once those bright blue eyes didn't give a clue to her current emotional status. "It only goes to show how little you really know about Bill," she stated with a touch of know-it-all-attitude.
Beatrix knew she needed to pick and choose her words carefully and she was going to add more but the stewardess came back over with their drink. Beatrix immediately leaned over Elle and grabbed her drink. She gave the stewardess a polite smile and settled back in her chair. The stewardess meanwhile set down Elle's mixed drink with haste and made even quicker haste back down the aisle. Bea couldn't blame her.
Now with a brand new Slice on her fold out tray, Beatrix didn't take a sip of her drink. She instead snatched Elle's drink and took a long sip. Actually she only took a small sip, she hated that mixer shit, her lips were pursed against the rim of the glass only to irritate the other blonde. She then set down the glass, leveled eyes on Elle, and smirked. "I may have gotten some spit on the edge."
She turned her eyes away and let long white fingers wrap around her new glass of Slice. She was clasping to it rather tightly, as if protecting it from another Elle invasion.
"I know little about Bill?" Elle replied, with a rather annoying rise of her voice, as she snatched he drink away from anywhere near the other blonde. Despite this, Elle didn't seem all that put out that Beatrix had perhaps 'gotten some spit on the edge' of her glass. She just went ahead and drank down a few large gulps. She then set the glass down with a somewhat loud 'thunk' on her tray.
"Ya know, you've got allot of nerve to say that Bea," she said icily, fixing her blonde rival with a vile glare. "And you can just wipe that know it all smart ass bitch look off of your face while your at it," she hissed. Obviously, Beatrix had touched a nerve. When it came to Elle and Beatrix, it wasn't all that hard. And when it came to Bill, Elle seemed especially on edge.
She ripped her one eyed glare away from Beatrix, as she took another few long drinks. Only 11am and already she'd consumed both gin and vodka. "I think," she started up again, setting the glass down again, "...that I know more about Bill then you think..." Her lips twisted, "And visa versa..."
Beatrix gave a mere shrug of her shoulders. Her blue eyes were entertained in watching her fingers smear marks against the condensation on her glass of Slice. "Maybe you do," she wasn't saying Elle was right, fuck she'd be damned if Elle was ever correct about something, but she was merely 'agreeing' because she didn't want to argue, especially about Bill.
"I'm sure there are countless things we both know about Bill that the other does not, and then there are things about Bill that neither of us will figure out. But," she side glanced to the willowy blonde. "…You aren't the one sleeping with him, now are you?"
Elle's blue eye widened like a slumbering beast that had just been awakened in a very unpleasant manner. Beatrix, in just a few short words, had pushed the huge red "Don't Push Or You'll Be Very Sorry" button, or...so the figure of speech goes. In other
words, she'd hit Elle right where it hurt.
"Bitch...," Elle hissed like a true snake, her head whipping around to stare down her enemy, "You...fucking...bitch!" Her voice quickly rose to a yell in those three words. There was an uncomfortable shuffling of people, as many of them turned around to glance at the screeching blonde, many of them actually glaring. Elle could have cared less, she was too irate and one to not care much anyways, "You BITCH!" Now, she was in Beatrix's face, which was pretty easy to do on a plane. "I swear, I'm going to fucking kill you right now!"
A murmur went through the nearby passengers, as they all had just heard a very serious sounding death threat. With a snarl, Elle reached out, snatched Beatrix's Slice and tossed the contents of the glass right in the other blonde's face. Just then, the stewardess from before, along with a male steward, came strolling up the aisle to where the two killers were seated.
"Ma'am," the female stewardess began in a firm tone, "We're going to have to ask you to calm down. Your disturbing people around you," she lowered her voice a little, "...and there are children present..."
"Fuck off!" Elle spat in their direction, flipping both of them the finger.
"Ma'am," it was the man this time, sounding far more intimidating, "If you don't calm down, we're going to have to detain you."
"Detain me?" Elle laughed bitterly, "I'd like to see you try honey." Elle was simply too pissed off to tap into the small amount of reason that she possessed. Beatrix had opened up a loosely stitched together wound with what she'd said. Elle had tried so hard to put things aside for the time being, she really had. But...that...that was going too far, and now that the wound had been opened, there was almost an endless amount of hatred pouring out.
The two plane attendants exchanged looks as Elle continued seething. Her long white fingers were clutched around her tray, which was making the whole thing tremble slightly. Her death glare was turned back on Beatrix. "I wonder if the Black Mamba can fly..." she whispered in a murderous tone, "Thirty thousand feet is a pretty damn fucking long way to fall….eh...Black Mamba?"
"It sure is," Beatrix replied nonchalantly. She was busy using the coaster napkin to blot the Slice from her face. It was fairly sticky, and even though she wasn't as wet she could have been, she could still feel loose bangs clinging to her forehead.
It was a goddamn good thing that Beatrix was much more sensible than Elle, especially when it came to controlling one's temper in public. Well, that wasn't a complete truth as Beatrix enjoyed making a scene in public, and by scene that meant blood, but there was no reason for it this time. Perhaps Bea had gone too far by saying what she said but she wasn't expecting Elle to burst like that. Or…maybe she was expecting it. A fault on her own account. Either way, what was said was said, and she had to fix it.
The tall blonde coolly put her napkin down, completely oblivious to Elle's glaring eye and looked up to the two frazzled stewards. "Excuse me, are their any vacant seats available?"
The female spoke up slowly, "Oh, yes, but it's in the lower class coach…"
"That's splendid," Beatrix cut her off before she could finish her sentence. If she remained in her current seat Elle wouldn't let it go any time soon, so the only way to avoid blood shed or in this case, being thrown off a fucking air plane, Beatrix picked her next option. Of course, deep down she wanted to get Elle back for splashing the soda in her face but she was going to behave; for Bill.
She leaned down, snatched up her travel bag, and climbed over Elle. She did this very cautiously incase Elle decided to spring out at her. Luckily she made it safely to the aisle. She shifted her strap and looked to the other blonde over her shoulder. "I'll see you after we land," she instructed with an eerie calmness to her tone, which indicated to Elle a clear 'don't fuck with me', and she casually followed the stewardess to the back of the plane.
"Yeah you just do that bitch, just fuck off..." Elle hissed at Beatrix's retreating back as the other, far more rational blonde, made the wise decision to escape the situation.
Elle threw herself back into her seat, her strong jaw set in anger. Why'd Beatrix have to go ahead and say that to her? It wasn't as if Elle wasn't aware that Bill and Beatrix were sleeping together, it was pretty fucking obvious. But, to hear it...it just made it worse. Beatrix had no idea how Elle felt, how she felt about Bill. She couldn't stand it, being...second fiddle. Ever since Beatrix had come along, even all those five years ago, Bill had never treated Elle quite the same. Oh, sure...he was still charming and genial with her, but it wasn't the same with Beatrix being his focus of attention. He used to be far more affectionate with her, now...Elle couldn't lay a hand on him, without him looking at her like she was some freak that had just crawled out of a swamp. How could Beatrix even begin to understand how she felt? How Bill had done so much for her, how he'd seen the potential in her and drawn it out, and yet...despite all her efforts he was even more clueless than Beatrix. At least, Beatrix was a fellow woman...she had to have some idea how Elle felt. But Bill...Bill with his macho sophisticated mannerisms and coy sadistic attitude...augh...it drove her crazy...in a number of ways...
Stupid fucker.
He'd never know his mistake. He'd never know that he was fucking the wrong blonde. He thought he was so fucking smart, but Elle knew better, and that was the worst part of all. Elle bit her lip to stop a sudden rush of rare "womanly" emotion. She slammed a fist onto the arm of her chair. "Shit!" She clutched her now throbbing hand to her chest, as she swallowed a lump in her now tight throat.
It was going to take a good hour, the rest of the damn flight, for her to be calm enough to even look at Beatrix again without having serious, serious temptations to kick her fucking face right in to the back of her pretty blonde head.
An hour later, Elle stood grumpily outside of the baggage claim. Her own bag dropped carelessly at her feet, her long strands of hair over her face. It was raining outside, big goddamn surprise. The grey Seattle sky didn't help to lighten her dark mood. She watched Beatrix get her own bag with a sharp look. Once the other blonde had joined her, smartly standing not too close, Elle hefted her bag. "Let's get the rental car. We'll go over the assignment then..." Without waiting for Beatrix, she turned on her high heel and sauntered towards the rental car counters.
Beatrix swung her bag up onto her shoulder with a noise of frustration and annoyance as she followed a few feet behind Elle. She preferred Elle better when she was in a snotty, bitchy, and somewhat peppy mood, as this plain out bitchy Elle wasn't at all pleasant. Not that Elle was ever pleasant.
When they arrived at the rental car counter Beatrix let Elle do the renting seeing as she get there first. The other tall blonde hung back, giving her counterpart space. Beatrix was going to let the whole plane incident slide, completely. It wasn't worth lingering on to what Elle was going to continue to bitch about it. All Beatrix cared about now was getting the fucking assignment over with and going back home.
"Alight..." Elle tipped the contents of the manila envelope into her lap. Her and Beatrix were now sitting in the airport's covered parking lot in their rental car. Elle had wanted to rent a Coup de Ville...but apparently they didn't carry such "classics" in supply at this shitty airport. So, they were stuck with some boring silver Japanese made sedan thing.
A small collection of papers, snapshots and oh-so-Bill-like post it notes were now scattered around. Elle began sorting through them until she found the main information sheet that she was looking for. "Elroy Fitzgerald," she scowled, "His parents should be shot for naming him that...and his...partner in crime James O'Neil." She skimmed a few lines, "Meth dealers...oh great, Bill sunk low on this one...Hrm…those are some lookers...," she handed Beatrix two snapshots of their targets. One guy, in his mid-thirties, had a head of long dreadlocks and a scruffy goatee, the other younger, had dirty blonde hair and a thin dour face.
So far, Elle was pretending rather well, that she hadn't just flipped out on the plane. But, who knew how long that would last. She read on, "Eh...here's the problem….these two assholes...hired up a bunch of gang bangers to be their bodyguards. I guess they've had a couple attempts on their lives and are paranoid now." She frowned, as she continued to skim, "Yeah...looks like a whole slew of Asian gang members are keeping a close eye on this place where these two are hiding out." She tossed the rest of the papers into Beatrix's lap, "Real nasty fuckers I bet." She started up the car and veered off the direction she was pretty sure led to their destination without another word.
By the time Elle pulled up to the building, Beatrix had sorted out the pile of papers on her lap, read them over herself, then put them away. As the car came to a jolting stop, the tall blonde peered through the rain slicked window to view their destination. It was a very small brick building that was crammed between what looked to be a triple XXX shop and a dingy diner. The building they were supposed to crash the party in was most likely a private club and the giveaway was the no trespassing sign posted on the front wall.
Elle frowned, as she leaned forward, her elbows on the steering wheel, "We don't have any weapons..."
This sometimes happened, having no weapons at the start of an assignment. It was nearly impossible to get them on the plane and often it was hard to get anything beyond a hunting knife once you got to your destination. It certain cities the DiVA's had connections where they could show up and easily get black market weapons within a matter of minutes. But, unfortunately...Seattle had yet to reach Bill's list of weapon connected cities. Not that this was much of a problem. Both women could easily deal with having no weapons and it was easy to get them once you'd killed a couple people with your bare hands, whom just happened to have them on their person.
Beatrix turned her head to look at Elle. Elle looked a little less bitchy which could mean that the whole assignment could go over well. "So," she began slowly and accurately. "I suggest we go in and kill them." That was a major duh, but to Elle she would get the clue that that was saying; they go in, no introductions, no acting, just kill the bodyguards, and get to the targets.
Elle continued to stare out of the rain streaked windshield and then with a sudden turn of her head, came back to reality, "Yeah...let's do it..." Like Beatrix, she was all for just getting in there, killing anybody who stood in the way of their targets, killing their targets and getting the hell out of Dodge.
She kicked open the driver's door with her long leg and both tall blondes made their way towards the dirty entrance that served as a front door. They had to maneuver their way through a squeaky chain link gate and a front yard of rather unappealing trash. Once they'd reached the front door, which was covered with a ripped screen door, Elle balled up her bony fist and knocked loudly. It didn't take long for the door to be opened rather widely. A dirty looking guy in a flannel shirt, a green stocking cap and jean shorts opened the door, a cigarette in his mouth. "Read the sign bitch," he growled, "no trespassers! Get the fuck outta-"
But, he didn't have time to finish his threat, as Elle reached through the torn screen door and grabbed him by the sockets of his eyes. He let out a yelp and she yanked him forward, so that his groin connected right into her knee with a rather sickening crunch. At that point, he was pretty much out and she yanked him through the rest of the screen door. He landed at Beatrix's feet, his eyes bleeding, unconscious and doubtfully never able to breed. "Asshole," Elle snorted and stepped through the frame of the destroyed screen door. She pushed the old rickety red door behind it fully open. This revealed a large front room. It was badly lit, the only lighting coming from a television in the corner and a couple neon signs on the walls. The rest of the room was hard to make out at this point.
There was the flash of a knife from Elle's left and she easily dodged out of the way just in time as it came slashing down. She grabbed her attackers arm and broke it over her own shoulder. In one swift movement, she took the large knife in her own hand. With a satisfied smirk, she spun around the other direction, a small man with a baseball bat facing her.
Beatrix was busy getting a knife off the guy that Elle had 'greeted' at the door. It was a shitty Swiss Army Knife but it could still do damage. She stepped over a few already crippled and most likely dead bodies to spot her partner dodging a menacing baseball bat. With a small tug on her lips of amusement she turned her attention to the far corner of the room where three bodyguards were making an appearance.
The tall blonde warrior turned towards them. Blue eyes flickered intensely, obviously anxious for some blood shed. The first one came at her screaming in hot hostility but his scream was cut off by the sloshing sound of blade meeting gut. The man fell to the floor in a heap, drowning in his own blood. This obviously made the other two upset as both came at the blonde. She put on a haughty expression as the two approached and then effortlessly performed a back flip, the heel of her foot connecting with a jaw that snapped as teeth clashed together.
She ended up landing near a small table, but she was too late to catch the glimpse of another body guard, not from the first set of three, come at her with a raised knife and knocking her to the ground. She hit the small table, which was such a cheap piece of shit it immediately shattered to pieces. Now with a rather gangly guy on top of her, Beatrix was using her hands to push away the knife that was aiming for her chest.
She kneed him where it hurt, but that was to no avail, so she tried another available option. Blue eyes flicked over to the ground where she spotted a cigar that had fallen from the table that broke. Someone must have been smoking before they barged in. The tall blonde, always one to use her resources, plucked up the cigar, and ruthlessly pressed that burning hot tip into the man's eye. He screamed immediately, letting off. Beatrix took this opportunity to grab his knife and stick it straight through his neck.
It became obvious to both killers that there was definitely two sets of people currently occupying the building and thus currently attacking them. There was a group of men who appeared to have just been there to get a fix and buy some smack. These guys were easy to off as flies. Most of them were high and they had no idea what the hell they were doing. The second group, the Asian gang members turned bodyguards, were proving to be far more challenging. These guys were tough, far smarter, sober and at least somewhat trained.
Having dealt with members of both of these parties, Elle had made her way into the kitchen area. It smelt awful. She quickly figured out why. There were vats of chemicals sitting out, mixing pitchers, needles and droppers spread around. Apparently this was the "lab" part of this meth lab. It was said that it was often easy to figure out a meth house in your neighborhood by the smell, Elle could completely understand that concept at the moment. "Augh...Jesus H. Christ..,." she mumbled, covering her face with one hand, as she spun around the stove to kick a guy in the face. Just then, one of the bodyguards came flying into the room, a gun in his hand. Well, that was no good. Reaching around, Elle grabbed one of the many metal vats that had been sitting on the stove by the handles and flung its contents right into the man's face. He let out a piercing scream. Elle didn't have time to figure out if his face was burning from the chemicals or from the heat of the liquid. The man flung himself backwards, right over the kitchen sink and crashed through the window above the sink...his now still legs hung over the edge.
Elle didn't have much time to savor that victory. Another one of the bodyguards came at her from behind, attempting to grab her around the neck. She glanced down at the vat still in her hand; the bottom was still glowing orange. With a sneer, the willowy blonde spun around and caught the guy in the face with the edge of the metal vat. Off balance, the man staggered and Elle rammed the bottom rim of the vat right into his chest. There was a good deal of hissing from his skin and clothing, not to mention blood curdling screams. He was out of the game.
Not wasting anytime, Elle dove for the kitchen drawers looking for another weapon. Sadly, the gun had gone out the window with the stupid fucker who was still hanging partially out of the house. She quickly found what she was looking for as she revealed a large drawer full of knifes. "This one's for you Vern...you knife wielding bitch," Elle whispered, as she pulled out two large, very large, butcher's knifes. Now, with two blades, Elle bolted out the other side of the kitchen, swinging her weapons like some tall blonde, one eyed, food processor...slicing and dicing anything that stood in her path.
She slashed her way to a hallway, where as she glanced over the shredded body of the last idiot to try and attack her, she spotted one of their targets run across the hall. It was the younger blonde guy. He'd only been visible for a few seconds, as he literally opened one door, ran across the hall and flung himself through another door...but she'd seen him alright. Elle smiled wickedly and bolted down the hallway. She could hear the sounds of Beatrix's rampage, and despite all her hatred for the other woman, she had full confidence that Beatrix could take care of business just as much as herself. Elle knew she could leave the main action for a moment to track this target.
Beatrix had spotted out of the corner of her eye, as she bashed some asshole's face in, Elle go down the hall. She wasn't a hundred percent sure whom she was tracking down but she had confidence in Elle, not much, but there was a little. Of course Beatrix could handle herself. She could off the remaining bodyguards without breaking a sweat. Well, okay, that was exaggerating, but she could do it.
About ten remained and they were beginning to gang up on the tall blonde warrior. Blue eyes flashed in killer mode and her façade remained hard. All she had in her hand was that shitty pocket knife, but before she decided to find herself a new weapon, she needed a proper place to dispose of the one she was already wielding. The first of the bodyguards began to move in, and before he could make a move, Black Mamba flicked that pocket knife, the blade digging deep into his forehead.
Obviously this would get the other members irritated and they came at her full force. Lucky for Beatrix no one had a gun, or she'd be in deep shit that she didn't particularly feel like digging her way out of. Actually this gave her the opportunity to go full fledged kung fu on their asses', which she happily did.
A few tiger-crane tactics, high kicks, neck-breaks, broken limbs, and missing eyeballs and the group of bodyguards had dwindled down to three. She could only hope Elle was having as much success as she was.
Elle had stalked her "prey" into a small living area that appeared to be a connected bedroom, TV room. At first she couldn't see him, but she could hear him and smell him...breathing like a scared mouse, smelling of pure freight.
This was Elle's favorite part of killing. And much like the cat stalking the mouse, she waited patiently, moving little, her eye piercing through the dimly lit room. Her boney knuckles sprung out from her grip on the set of butcher knives...their once reflective surfaces now slick with blood.
It was amazing how little noise she could make in those high heels when she chose to. She slowly, slowly circled around the room, knifes making slow half moon like motions in the air. Elle was many things...many of them not always advantageous to her profession, but she could be one hell of a killer. After all, she'd been killing a lot longer than her years with the Deadly Vipers. Bill hadn't made her into a killer...she'd made herself into a killer. But what Bill had done was fine tune those skills of hers...making her a more streamlined killing machine. Goddamn Bill...that was the last thing Elle wanted to be thinking about right now and she made a quick drop to a crouch, as if to cleanse her mind with that motion.
It was at that moment that spotted her target. Her lower viewpoint had allowed her to see his knee as it jutted out from underneath a card table around the corner of the room. With a wicked grin, Elle closed in, her long legs taking her a great distance very quickly. She caught a glimpse of the white's of the man's eyes as they bulged in freight at the sight of this one eyed blonde vision of death. She couldn't be sure if he was armed in the dark lighting, and she knew better than to take a perhaps fatal risk. So, instead...she sprang out into a baseball like slide and caught the man right in the side with her heels, sending him rolling out from under the table.
He yelled, clutching at his side...crawling on the carpet. Now, under the table, Elle glanced up and kicked her legs up, lifting the rather light piece of furniture into the air and sending it smashing right onto her target. The man yelled out in pain once again and Elle was quick to kick the table off of him, still in a low crouching position. This entire time, she'd been using her wrists for support, as the knifes were still occupying her hands.
The target rolled onto his back, clutching at a bleeding mouth. Elle sneered. This was almost too easy; the guy wasn't even capable of defending himself. With a shrug, she leapt onto his chest, which caused him to suck in a hoarse gasp of breath, as there was the sound of a number of cracking ribs.
Now, reared up above him, her two butcher's knifes poised, Elle's rather sick and twisted mind ran rapidly through an almost endless amount of ways to put an end to this asshole. And because she was completely sadistic and not always one to see the "art" in a swift death, she chose something on the incredibly painful and inhumane side of things.
With a yell of triumph, she drove the two blades right down into the guy's upper thighs...so deep that the tips of the large knifes stuck into the floor underneath him. This time he screamed, and in response a large smile spread across Elle's face. She climbed off of him and stood up, her hands falling on her hips. "I just punctured two of the three largest arteries in your body," she spoke down at him in a calm but mocking tone of voice. "Now, I could puncture...the largest one in your body...in your neck," she tiled her head to the side as the man just screamed up at her, "But...that's no fun...you'll die far too quickly. I like you like this..."
Right away, small fountains of blood were spurting out from his legs...forming large crimson pools around his body. And despite his best efforts, he couldn't move himself or even attempt to sit up; he was already too weak from loss of blood. His screams were now dying down to frail gasps, as every ounce of color drained from his face.
Elle pursed, her lips, watching him for a few moments longer. "Well, I don't about you baby...but it was great for me." And with that, she raised her heel and kicking down on the hilts of each knife, drove them only deeper into his flesh. Then, she quickly turned on her now bloody heel and left the room and the slowly dying target.
Sauntering down the hallway, she wiped the specks of blood on her face, which only made them into a series of gory smears. That had felt good...real good in fact, sadly that poor fucker wasn't the real focus of her hostilities, but he'd have to do...for the moment.
She spotted the real source of her hostilities. Beatrix was making kung fu chop saki of a group of bodyguards. Elle caught her eye, "One down...one to go.." she shouted, as she raised two fingers in the universal "peace sign" so that Beatrix could clearly see the gesture. Then, she slowly lowered her forefinger, letting Beatrix see how she really felt.
Beatrix was so momentarily distracted by Elle's flippant display of feelings, she almost didn't catch sight of the bodyguard running up behind her. But she did catch it in enough time to snatch the man's wrist as he approached and effortlessly flipped him over her shoulder. He landed hard on the ground. The tall blonde still held to his wrist which she began to twist. The bones cracked and the man screamed but the blonde was staring at the other blonde in a display of her own feelings.
Elle either didn't care or was too busy being a bitch that she turned back on that bloody heel of hers and stalked off to find the last target. Not that Beatrix much cared. Let Elle handle the 'real kills' for a change when they were stuck together.
A smug smile tugged the creases on her lips as she dismissed her own rash thoughts and turned to the two remaining bodyguards anxiously awaiting their deaths.
Elle was perfectly happy to let Beatrix deal with the bodyguards, while she prowled around looking for their second target. After that last kill, Elle's blood lust was now at a high and she was more than content to continue her rampage of carnage onto the second sorry asshole.
Unfortunately for them, a few guys got in her way as she walked around the dingy place. They all met swift and vicious deaths. She didn't have time to make each one a masterpiece as she was in a rush to not let their second target get away. But, these quick deaths did serve to provide her with some new weapons. Now, as she climbed her way down into the basement, via a set of sagging and dusty looking stairs, she was wielding a small pick axe and an iron fireplace poker. It was amazing the sort of weird shit that people attacked you with, and after killing the owners of these eccentric weapons, they became her own.
The rest of the house was growing quieter, as its occupants either had ran off...or like most of them, were now lying dead strewn about the inhabitance. The whole scene was quite grisly, more than enough to make the average person turn away with unease and most likely nausea. But Elle, like Beatrix, didn't' take much notice of the whole bloody scene...she was far too focused and jaded to even bat an eyelash.
The old stairs creaked loudly under her heels, and after a moment of disliking this, she leapt off the side of the railing, opting to just skip the whole stair thing and land with a crouch in the middle of the concrete floored basement. The whole basement looked as if it had been converted into something of a "living space." There were sleeping bags, bedding and not entirely sanitary looking mattresses scattered about. Along with these, there were a number of backpacks, beer cans, a rather large bong, random magazines, used plastic utensils and dirty paper plates. There were also a number of posters on the walls: a couple of trashy looking Playboy centerfolds, one so trashy that it wouldn't have been shown in Playboy, a calendar with various hot rods from 1989, a picture of David Hasselhoff posing in Baywatch attire, that somebody had rather comically replaced his head with that of Richard Simmons and next to that a huge Papts Blue Ribbon beer poster. The whole room was lit by a dirty fish tank and a corner torch lamp that was missing one of its three bulbs. There had been florescent lights on the ceiling, but it appeared all of them had been broken. The only in tact one had been replaced by a black light tube, which at the moment was not in operation. Perhaps this had been where those who just couldn't seem to get away from the meth house crashed, or maybe a group of street kids. Who knew...who cared.
Elle stepped quietly over this spread of living area, slowly making her way across the large room. Over the hum of the fish tank and the scuffle of Beatrix VS. the bodyguards on the ceiling, Elle could hear something...it was coming from the far corner of the room, behind a partially open door.
Brandishing her weapons, the willowy blonde crept over to the door, having to take a long step over a turned over cooler. Not wasting any time, she kicked open the door with a long roundhouse. It was so rusty and in need of repair, that the door came partially off its hinges at the force of her kick. She spun into the room, weapons at ready. It was a bathroom and not an entirely clean one at that.
Elle scrunched up her nose and scanned the dingy tiled room in one quick glance. Her eye fell on the bathtub, with the shower curtain drawn across. She sneered. That was the sort of trick five year olds pull when playing hide and go seek. She reached out and viciously ranked the curtain right off the hooks.
Only to come face to face with a 45 caliber pistol.
At the other end of the gun stood the second target...mid-thirties, head of long brown dreadlocks, goatee, piercing brown eyes. Next to him stood a young woman...maybe twenty. She was unarmed, and appeared far less resolved than her male counterpart, staring at the one eyed blonde with an expression of freight. The man was shirtless, revealing a large tattoo of a Chinese dragon inked across his chest...along with a large amount of Chinese writing swirled around it.
"Don't move," the man spoke calmly...and more surprisingly, in Cantonese. "Drop both of those weapons, or I blast your remaining eye out the back of your head."
Elle gaped, sorting through her whirling thoughts. Perhaps there was more to this assignment than first met the eye. She hadn't thought much of the tattoo's...just about every other white hippie in America had a Chinese tattoo nowadays. But, the fact that this dreadlocked meth dealer spoke impeccable Cantonese made her think twice.
"Very well," she replied in Cantonese...which she wasn't great at, but that miserable old fool Pai Mei had made her learn at least enough to get by.
The man watched her as she slowly bent down and set both of her weapons down on the tiling. Elle might be a hateful bitch, and known to be rather irrational...but she wasn't stupid. Standing back up straight, she raised both her hands away from her body. She knew this whole routine well enough.
"Alright," the man spoke in English now, "back away..." Elle complied, her eye bouncing back and forth between the target and the rather scared looking woman at his side. Both of them stepped out of the bathtub, which Elle mirrored with a backwards step...this took her back out the room.
"Upstairs," the man ordered, his gun twitching to the side to indicate the rickety flight of stairs now to Elle's right. "Keep moving slowly...," he continued as he backed Elle up, "...no bullshit..."
Elle nodded and rather awkwardly stepped backwards up the stairs, her gaze fixated on the barrel of the gun. After a few moments of rather ungainly movements, she was back on the ground floor. The target reached out and spun her around. Now, the gun was pushing on the back of her head. "Take me to your friend," he said...again very calmly.
Not one to argue at this point, Elle slowly walked through the house until she came upon Beatrix, putting the final finishing touches on her last kill. The target remained right behind her, the scared young woman tagging at his side.
"Bea," Elle said, her voice tight, "I do believe this is Elroy Fitzgerald."
Bea looked up from her crouch on the floor. Beside her was a jerking body pooled in blood and his two legs were bent in very peculiar directions. Either way he was dead as well as the rest of the bodyguards. The tall blonde warrior slowly rose at Elle's appearance. Her blouse was splattered in blood, droplets decorated sections of her face and mingled into blonde bangs, and a shine of sweat was on her forehead. Dangling in her hand was a 22cal, which she had yet to raise. Hard blue eyes took in the situation carefully.
If the gun pointed at Elle's head wasn't so serious Beatrix would have found it highly amusing but right now she was far from amused. What the fuck? She thought she could trust Elle not to fuck this up and here she was with a fucking gun to her head and their last target certainly not dead. Okay, maybe it wasn't completely Elle's fault that she was in this predicament, but Beatrix didn't feel like rationally blaming the correct person.
Well, predicament or not, unfortunately Bea had to help Elle out on this one. Her slender brows furrowed and her chin canted down to her chest. "Hello Elroy," she spoke in an overly calm tone, mimicking Elroy's as if she had heard him speak. "Mind telling me why you have a gun pressed to my partner's head?" Of course she knew why she was just making casual conversation to help evaluate the stakes.
"I think you know why," Elroy replied, not a smile, nor smirk or any sort touching his face. This guy appeared to be as flat as a pane of glass.
Elle continued to stand there...what the hell could she do? But she was smirking, still a smart assed bitch, even at gunpoint.
"I want you to drop that gun," Elroy continued, speaking directly to Beatrix. "If you don't drop that gun in three seconds, I'm going to put a tunnel in your blonde friend's head here, and very shortly afterwards put one in yours."
Elle rolled her eye, taking full advantage of not facing her target. This guy wanted information, she could tell...just by the way he was acting, postponing things...laying on heavy handed threats but not really doing a damn thing.
Elroy, still completely placid, began to count "...one...two..."
"Fuck this," Elle spat and spinning around she swung her arm around to move the barrel of the gun out of range of her head...it fired off, blasting a hole in a window across the room. But, instead of going for Elroy, Elle grabbed the young woman who had been standing next to him.
The girl was shaking like a leaf and she was far too easy to take into an iron grasp. Elle pinned her small frame up against her own taller one, wrapping an strong arm around the girl's shoulders. She then formed her hand into a claw and clamped it over the girl's throat...right where her vocal chords were. Elle's fingernails dug deep, already blood was beginning to ooze out from underneath them.
Elroy had now regained his posture, and his gun was wavering between Beatrix, who still was holding her gun, and Elle, who was holding the girl.
"Oh dear..." Elle trilled, "Now we've got ourselves in a little pickle..."
Elroy's jaw set, his first show of emotion, as his eyes focused in on Elle's clawed hand.
"One move...Elroy," she hissed, "And I tear your little girlfriend's throat out...it's not all that hard...is it Bea?"
Beatrix shook her pretty blonde head slowly and reassuringly. Leave it to Elle to do something like that. Well, Bea could do things like that quite easily too. She now poised her firearm at Elroy, who had Elle at an uncertain gunpoint. Her fingers flexed on the cool metal. "Now you're left with two choices. You could drop your gun or I could make you drop it, but either way we're going to kill you," the tall blonde said slowly with just as much assurance as she had when she agreed with Elle ripping out a throat. Which she had seen before; talk about sick and twisted.
Elroy seemed to consider Beatrix's words for quite a few moments, which was a good idea considering his decision would very likely decide the outcome of him dying or not.
Of course, Elle was pretty sure he was going to die anyways...it was just a matter of who else was going to go with him. Her claw like fingers dug deeper into the whimpering young woman's throat. The large tearing eyes staring up at Elle made no difference to her. In her mind, life was hers to take at her own whim, and she could easily take the one in her hands no matter how much begging was involved.
Elroy's dark eyes flickered...too quickly….it was a dead midway he was about to do something. Both Elle and Beatrix saw it. He made a motion, as if he was going to drop his gun...but then, from his low crouching position, changed his mind, and fired the weapon at Elle. Luckily, due to his telegraphing, she'd had a fraction of a second to move and the bullet intended for her leg, ripped through the large side hem of her black pants. She was still holding tightly onto her hostage.
Well, he'd done it now...and everybody knew it.
"Ooooo, bad move Elroy," Elle chided him with a slow shake of her head. The young woman's eyes widened even further, knowing her fate, and she opened her mouth to scream. But she was too late, Elle generally didn't fuck around when she said she was going to kill somebody, and with a vicious yank of her hand, she pulled a somewhat indistinguishable bloody wad right out of the young woman's throat. This rather innocent bystander, gasped, but no sound came out...and then, eyes rolling back she collapsed to the ground.
In the meantime, which was all of about two seconds, Elle had faith that Beatrix would know what to do with Elroy.
Of course she knew. Beatrix raised her weapon and without a blink of the eye, she effectively shot Elroy point blank in the head. Blood sprayed to the back wall and his body fell limp to join his girlfriend in the bloody mess on the floor. No further flinch from the tall blonde as she tossed the gun to the ground, which wasn't any use once the assignment was through.
Blue eyes came up to meet that single blue. Bea didn't need to express to Elle how sick that was. This only reaffirmed how fucking nuts the willowy blonde was. She took a step forward, her expression docile. "Shit," a brief pause. "Go wash your hands."
Elle shrugged, as if plucking a person's throat out was on the same level as blowing one's nose. "Yeah...alright..." she regarded her hands, one of which as exceedingly more bloody than the other, as she weaved her way around dead bodies to the trashed kitchen.
It took Elle a few minutes to get the large amount of gore off of her hands and face. Both women knew they had to move quickly, since it was likely that at least somebody in the surrounding buildings had heard gunshots. It would only be a matter of time before law enforcement types showed up, and meeting them was highly undesirable.
Within five minutes, the two blonde killers were back in the car, and speeding away from the scene. Just in time too, three police cars came flying around the corner in the opposite direction, not giving a second glance to two blonde ladies in a conservative looking grey sedan.
As Elle drove, she always liked to be the one to drive, she shrugged off her blood spattered jacket and stuffed it into a small duffel bag in her lap. Carrying a waterproof, easily disposable bag for bloody clothing was something that all of them had learned to do early on in their training.
Once they reached the airport parking lot, Elle changed in the car...making Beatrix stand outside while she did so, and then Elle did the same for Beatrix. Then, they both tossed their bloody clothing bags into a nearby dumpster. Looking as good as new, both blondes checked the car back in and proceeded on the way to their flight.
This time there was no argument as both Beatrix and Elle agreed they should sit in different rows, hell even on opposite sides of the plane. The stewardess seemed more than happy to comply, since the flight wasn't very full. They both seemed aware of the fact that they simply couldn't be near one another longer than an hour...tops, without something vile ensuing.
Thus, the flight back to San Diego was uneventful. Elle was happy to pick up her Trans Am, and the two killers made the drive down to Bill's place in silence, well...a blaring radio and no speaking to one another that is.
Elle stopped the car with screeching tires in front of the familiar adobe tiled patio. She turned her head to glare at Beatrix, "Here you are...I figured you'd rather me drop you off here...at your new home, instead of your old one." She sneered, still speaking in that calm but mocking tone, "If you'd prefer to be there...you'll just have to get Bill to drive you...I'm sure he'll just hate that." She lit up a cigarette, her eye narrowing. She looked like she was going to say something else to her blonde cohort; but instead, she just took a long pull on her cigarette and threw an arm casually over her rolled down window. It appeared that whatever she wanted to say to Beatrix, she decided to best leave unsaid.
"It's always a pleasure working with you, Elle," Beatrix said tartly disregarding her other comments. She didn't want to hear Elle's bitching and thus grabbed her bag from the back seat and got out. If she stayed any longer in that fucking car she was going to be tempted to say something not so nice to her blonde counterpart and being in close range of Bill that was never a wise decision.
So, she got her boney ass out of the car and walked up the patio in hopes of seeing a much 'nicer' face.
Elle didn't give a second glance at Beatrix, as her blonde rival got out of the car and strutted her little ass into Bill's.
Fuck her. She'd get her chance at Beatrix Kiddo...it was only a matter of time.