Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men.
The boy stumbled back, eyes wide as he stared at the slowly closing wound on Laura's midriff. What was his name? Laura didn't know. It didn't matter anyways. But he had one.
He was a normal boy. It wasn't his fault he got involved in this. Laura didn't even know if he was related to the target. He didn't look much like her - maybe her boyfriend? Not that it mattered. He was connected to the target. That made him a target, too.
Laura rarely knew why she was sent to kill people. Sometimes it was obvious - if they were encroaching on his territory, the Kingpin would send her to kill them. Those kills were simple and straightforward.
But then there were the kills like this. The kills that must be done in secret, or made to look accidental. The kills that must not be seen. Any witnesses must be taken out as well.
The target this time was a pretty young woman, late teens or so. She was pregnant, too - Laura could smell it on her - and she wondered if that had anything to do with why she'd been targeted, but it wasn't salient information. As far as she could tell, the target was the scion of a wealthy family who likely paid the Kingpin to keep in the limelight. She didn't know why the girl had been targeted. Perhaps the Kingpin had plans for her that didn't involve motherhood. Perhaps he was just being cruel.
But that was neither here nor there. What was, was that the target was dead upstairs, and the boy had seen. He had grabbed the first thing handy - a candelabra - and swung it at her. It had taken her by surprise, and thus the wound on her belly.
"Wh - what are you?" he stammered. Laura glanced up at him, eyes unreadable. His gaze flicked between her now-healed belly and the claws still extended from her knuckles, stained with the target's blood. "You - you're crazy!" He staggered and fell, lying on his back, and Laura pounced, using her knees to pin his arms to his sides.
Laura swung her blades down, stopping them a fraction of an inch from his neck. She leaned over, dark hair falling in a bloody curtain, and sniffed. Fear. And anguish, in his eyes.
"Yes. Now go." She slid off and stood, turning away.
The door crashed shut behind him.