𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐, jasonette

xix. 𝐫𝐮𝐧 / 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞

The yelling was starting again.

8-year-old Marinette abandoned her fluffy bread as soon as the sharp words began to fly from her parents' mouths. It wouldn't be long before they moved to the kitchen—the room with the most things to throw at each other. Marinette had been caught in the crossfire before. She had the scars to prove it.

Not even bothering to put her plate for washing since she was sure it was going to get smashed to pieces anyway, Marinette shoved as many snacks as possible into her skirt pocket, hoping that it would be enough to last the night and the entirety of tomorrow.

Silently stepping across the wooden floorboards beneath her feet, Marinette nimbly avoided the ones she knew creaked, not wanting to draw attention to herself yet. She peeked out of the kitchen door, eyes scanning the living room for anyone's presence before she took a cautious step out.

She let out a near-silent sigh of relief as Marinette heard her parents' loud voices overlapping as they screamed at each other. Not for the first time, Marinette was thankful for their loud volume as they blew up at each other—it gave her the perfect cover to slip back into her room, where safety, she hoped, was guaranteed.

Her heartbeat pounding, Marinette clambered on the ladder to her room, sliding in smoothly and accidentally slammed the door shut with a loud bang. She heard the voices downstairs stop for a few seconds—Marinette felt her breathing freeze, hoping they didn't come to investigate. She needed the time to wedge her door shut, so not even her father's huge stature could open it.

The first time he did, he dragged her down the ladder, yelling at Marinette's mother about how he would take Marinette with him when he left her. Marinette huddled on the side as they yelled at each other, tears pouring down her cheeks.

Marinette huffed with the exertion of forcing a plank of wood through the bar, pushing it in and effectively making sure no one could enter her room. Hiding out in her room was always the best option when her parents got like this.

Wiping her eyes surreptitiously, Marinette slipped on her headphones, hoping to find a good movie to watch before she went to bed.

Minions seemed like a good choice to her, but before Marinette clicked on it, she paused.

Eventually, after a few seconds, she pulled out a mail she had saved a few weeks ago and began typing.

Jason was sipping at his cheap beer when he got the notification. He supposed it was another individual offering him a large sum of money to kill someone else. That was usually the only reason people contacted Jason.

Opening up his laptop, Jason read through the short, but concise mail he had just received.

Dear Red Hood, it read, I have a request for you.

It was a simple in-and-out job. Kill the two people—a Cheng husband and wife—and collect the payment afterwards. Payment which had to be discussed, Jason thought as he typed his answer back to the address.

As soon as he clicked on send, Jason got to work. Collecting the names of the people he was being asked to kill, Jason located them on his admittedly large internet database.

Lighting up a cigarette, Jason quirked an eyebrow when he realised that they were two ordinary people—bakers as it seemed, with an 8-year-old daughter. He wondered why he was being asked to kill such, well, ordinary people.

His laptop pinged with another notification, and Jason was surprised to see an answer coming already from the same email address.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Jason sighed loudly as he booked tickets to Paris for the next day. He had no idea what he was doing but his instincts were screaming at him. The only reason Jason was alive today was because of his instincts—they hadn't failed him ever, and Jason was fairly sure they wouldn't begin now.