"An eye for eye only ends up making the whole world blind." At least that's what her mother would say if she knew where her daughter was headed tonight. She ran the whetstone along the edge of her blade, honing it until it could slit paper. But her mother would never know how she spent her evenings, and a fair few days for that matter. It wouldn't be good for her blood pressure.
She set the stone on the glass end table and twisted the weapon in her hands. There was something relaxing about having a well-maintained blade in her hand. She caressed the cool metal, running her fingertips along the symbols carved near the hilt. She knew there had been days when these symbols meant nothing to her, but that time of her life was long gone.
A haunting chime echoed in her dim apartment, eliciting a sigh as she set the blade on the glass end table and unfolded herself from the couch. She padded toward the windowed wall facing south and stopped at another glass table. One might say the items on this table were scattered randomly, but she knew their arrangement was far more purposeful than haphazard. In the center of the pattern rested a shallow circular bowl made of a glossy unknown metal and filled with a shimmering silver liquid. Normally, it swirled in response to a wind only it experienced, but when that chime sounded, it was entirely different.
She watched as the swirls morphed into various shapes and colors, bringing together a hazy image of a dark haired man in a popular downtown club. The picture slowly sharpened until she was able to memorize his features before it changed entirely. The wisps separated and coalesced once more in the shape of letters. It was a name, and she was sure to remember it.
She turned and left the living space of her apartment, passing through the large bedroom and into the oversized walk-in closet. Lights came on automatically as she stepped through the doorway, illuminating the various items littering the shelves and hangers. She didn't get a giddy feeling when she saw all the things that belonged to her; she didn't feel much of anything as she began flicking through hangers on one side of the room. She pulled a tiny black dress off its hook and quickly shed her pants and shirt. The black fabric slid over her skin and the zipper ended its ascent with a soft snick. Matching stilettos were the final piece of this purposefully eye-catching ensemble, and she gave herself an appraising glance in the mirror before she stepped into the bathroom.
Half an hour later her hair and makeup were both done as she returned to her living room to grab the knife from the end table. It slipped easily into the nylon sheath velcroed to her upper thigh, and when she returned her skirt to its proper place, it was impossible to tell there was a deadly weapon on her person. She continued over to the table strewn with items and picked up a black river stone engraved with a familiar rune. Holding it with her fingertips only, she turned from the table and used it to carve a straight line from above her head to the floor in one sweeping motion. Bright white light followed its motion, and she stepped through it and into a dark alleyway.
She tucked the stone into her bra as she walked out of the alley and into the bustle of a downtown street on Saturday night. The club she wanted was on the next block, and she sauntered up to the door, paying no mind to the long line of people awaiting admittance. The bouncer swept an appreciative glance up her lithe, scantily clad form, and when she leaned in close to whisper in his ear, those at the front of the queue watched with interest. He gave a brief nod and stood back so she could enter amidst the groans of everyone waiting.
The inside of the club was nothing new to her. She may have never been to this one in particular, but after a while, they all began to look the same. There were multiple dance floors and several bars doling out liquid courage and a lack of inhibitions to a throng of people hoping to forget who they were for at least one night. There were girls dressed in more makeup than clothing allowing guys to buy their beautiful attention in a societal tradition as old as time, and she missed the days when partying her weekends away was the sole focus of her life.
