Blood and Eyeliner

Quietly stalking down the dark, dead quiet hall, you realized something.

This is my 69th mission this year. Heh, nice.

You knew you were leaving a trail of blood from the pungent stank of iron. Although, it wasn't yours. Smirking as you walked, or rather floated as you made absolutely no noise, you relished in the flashback of killing the guards, the memory of their faces dripping with blood making the adrenaline course impossibly faster through your veins.

Trying to remember the soldier count from the mission blueprint, you wondered if you had killed them all. Not that it would matter if you did or didn't. A little surprise would make this dreadfully boring job a little more enjoyable.

Reaching the door to your target's bedroom, you spotted one last guard and hesitated. He was rather burly, at least six foot five. From where you stood, you could literally see crumbs in his untamed beard and you would bet your whole income from this mission that he smelt as nasty as he looked.

That wasn't what made you hesitate though. It was the extremely automatic gun he held almost protectively in his hands.

Blowing out a breath, you got into character, the "damsel in distress". It was your absolute favourite one to do, as it really only worked on men. It was a kind of fuck you to basically the whole patriarchy, as every gulliable male wanted to protect the scared, crying little girl.

"Sir! Sir please!" you wailed, stumbling to the guard. He looked at you, suspicion evident on his face as his eyes took in your blood covered form.

"Please!" you continued your facade, making your way closer to him. "There's a-" (you pause for the planned gasp of hysteria) "There's this man going around, with a- a knife, he killed all these men and-"

"Woah woah woah there honey." Your plan worked rather easily and he reached out to catch your drunk acting body. "Easy there. Don't worry, I can keep you safe. Just stand behind me, and run down the hall behind me if you see anyone, okay?"

Holy shit, this worked way better than I thought it would.

It took basically your whole essence not to scoff at the idiocy this man had just shown you. Not only did he put himself in the worst possible position he could have, he told you the fastest way to escape as well.

You nodded.

"What's your name love?"

"Ph- Phaleon."
"Phaleon," he tested the name on his tongue. "What a pretty name for a pretty girl..."

Men.

He protectively put his arm out to push your body behind his. He did in fact smell as bad as he looked.

The guard put himself on an alert as high as his pea-sized brain would allow, and glanced cautiously around the hallway.

You quite literally rolled your eyes as you carelessly embedded your favourite knife into his neck. He at least deserved the best steel for his "chivalry".

Gasping, he dropped the gun. Pointlessly grabbing at his neck, he turned to you in horror. What he was met with was a rather disinterested face. To you, he was just another notch on your belt. To him, you were god, deciding if he lived or died.

Sighing, you put a heel on his back and stepped over- rather on him and to the door of the target.

It was an easy kill, although most of them were for you. It was all getting too mundane for you to find any type of enjoyment in the kill anymore. Wiping your hands on your pants, you scoffed one last time at the pathetic excuse for a guard on your way out.