tear you apart, kaz brekker (discon.)

oo. prologue

00. prologue.
kissed by death!

trigger warning:
violence, death.

     The wind outside whistled at her like the men did the moment she had walked in, peeling back her hood was what silenced the entire bar. Everyone knew her, feared her. Her loneliness was but a small price to pay for the respect in which had she earned. All but one set of eyes had ran from the sheer sight of her, those being the barman's; and even he was tempted to run in to the stockroom.

     "M-Miss Markovich..." Ah yes, Sabine Markovich was of course, Katarina Levitsky. The idea of an alias had been one thing she'd remembered from her mother's lessons of protecting yourself and the importance of it.

    "Leonid," She smiled sarcastically, pulling off the gloves that hid her hands from the cold outside and slamming them on to the bar itself, leaning on her arms. "Where is he?"

Leonid didn't want to answer, to watch his childhood friend be slaughtered in his own back room, but he didn't dare disobey Katarina and become her next target. His silence caused her to tilt her head as the people who surrounded them grew more and more terrified of what could happen.

     "Come on, Leo, just tell her!" Somebody shouted from behind the pair, prompting Katarina to turn around with a smirk on her face.

     "See—" She threw her arms up in annoyance, sarcastically and debatably rather evilly the woman began to tut as she faced the barman once again. "Come on, Leo," The nickname rolling off of her tongue like a sweet poison. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, yeah?"

The red headed man wanted nothing more than to throw in his towel, take off his apron and walk out of that bar. Start a new life, join the first army or whoever would take him, but nobody escaped her wrath, he knew that. "He's in the back. I'll get the singer on."

The ends of her lips curled upwards, sending the man a wink as she picked up her gloves and made her way to the back of building. This time however, she hoped that the singer was louder than the last so she didn't have to trouble so many innocent people with her victim's screams.

Clearing her throat, Katarina unlocked the door, not batting an eyelid to the man tied to the chair in the centre of the room– instead she turned around and instantly locked the door behind her. An almost evil whistle left her lips in time with the muffled singer's voice, regardless of what she intended to do, she was scaring the man half to death.

From behind a gag, the man seemed to plead for his life but she could barely hear him. Katarina stood with her back to him, she held her arms up and Annika, her unofficial trustee of sorts and the only person in the world that knew who she was, took off her coat and threw it over her arm. They weren't friends, Katarina didn't have friends and if she could choose them Annika would not be one of them.

She was often annoying, following Katarina around like a lost puppy, asking far too many questions for her own good and driving the infenri insane.

Standing back, she began to unload her weapons from every place she had hid them. Knives in her stockings, a fabrikator between her breasts, held in place by her bra, and every other munitions she could find; she placed on the table in front of her.

Katarina ran her fingers along the blades of her knives, choosing the sharpest one she found.       "Hm? Say something, Olezka?"

The man's expression fell, his eyes showing his fear. "What? Are we not friends, Ole?"

She pretended to wait for his reply, laughing to herself before cutting the fabric that covered his mouth clean off, leaving the man gasping for fresh air. Unfortunately for Olezka, Annika had lit yet another cigarette and smoked it almost ruthlessly, meaning the air in the room was far from fresh.

     "Sabine, please." He coughed. "I have a wife! K-Kids!"

     "I had a family once." She spoke in a bitter tongue. "They'll get over it."

Before she could quite literally plunge her blade in to the man's neck, a loud banging came from the other side of the door. Katarina sent Annika an annoyed look at the fairer skinned girl sighed, putting out her cigarette with her shoe and opening the door. "Can you read? It says occupi— excuse me?"

Whipping her head around, Katarina's shoulders relaxed and she held her weapon to her side. It was her tipper, she didn't know his name and she didn't want to; she instead called him The Ghost due to his inability to ever get caught.

     "Care to tell me why you're interrupting me?"

     "Boss, you're going to want to hear this, the carriage is outside."

Katarina was many things, but she was not a fool. Grabbing her coat from the seat Annika had left it on, she pulled it over her shoulders, and crouched by Olezka. "I'll be back for you. I never leave a job unfinished."

Ignoring Annika's complaints, the dark haired girl walked out of the bar with The Ghost in pursuit and jumped in to the carriage. The second the pair sat down, facing each other on opposite ends, the vehicle moved.

    "Anything new?"

    "You won't believe it, Boss," The man seemed to chuckle at himself. "You know them Crows you were after?"

She nodded.

    "Well they've only gone and found themselves a sun-summoner—"

    "They've, what?" Katarina practically screeched.

    "My response exactly! Some girl called Alina Starkov, apparently Brekker's planning on getting her since she's with The Darkling an' all that—"

    "She's with The Darkling?" That was bad news— he was bad news, and if anybody knew that it was Katarina.

    "Yes, Boss—"

    "I have to help her." Katarina muttered, not quiet enough for The Ghost to not hear her.

    "There's something else—" She nodded at him to continue. "Brekker, he... uhm," The man gulped, leaning in closer to her side. "He knows that we—"

It all happened to fast, one moment he was talking and the next he wasn't. All Katarina saw was a blur of silver, she blinked rapidly as she tried to assess the damage of what had been done. She saw there was a tear in the fabric that covered the window, looking around the carriage she gasped softly when her eyes landed on The Ghost.

Although she didn't know him, she had just lost her best tipper in the city due to a blade to the temple. Strange timing, she thought to herself, failing to realise that one entire side of her face was covered in blood; his blood.

Pulling her hair out of the syrup-thick substance, she tried to steady her breathing since the attack itself had caught her off guard. Who would do such a thing?

    "Kaz Brekker."

authors note.
i haven't proof-read this but i just really wanna get it out because i kind of love it?? here's some insight in to Katarina and what she's like, the next chapter her and kaz will meet but not until the end <3