Crimson Nights

Chapter 7 [DANGEROUS LIASONS]

The Shady Block

The clock struck midnight, and the shadows of Vesper deepened. Lennie moved silently through the deserted alleyways of the city's most notorious neighborhood. The air was thick with the stench of decay and neglect, the perfect cover for what she was about to do.

She was in her usual attire — tight leather pants, a dark tank top, and her signature smirk. Her electric blue eyes scanned the surroundings, assessing every possible threat, even though she was the biggest threat that people are not aware of. In her hand, she gripped a blade, its edge gleaming under the dim streetlights.

Ahead of her, a man stumbled out of a rundown bar. He was burly, his face scarred from years of street fights. He didn’t see Lennie, not until it was too late.

The Hunt Begins

Lennie followed him silently, her footsteps soundless on the cracked pavement. The man turned into a narrow alley, and Lennie quickened her pace. She knew this was the perfect place to strike—secluded, dark, and far from prying eyes.

The man fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock a door. Lennie seized the moment. She moved swiftly, her blade flashing as she grabbed him from behind, pressing the cold metal against his throat.

Man: *(startled)* "What the hell—?"

Lennie: *(whispering in his ear)* "Shh. You won’t feel a thing."

With a swift, practiced motion, Lennie slit his throat. The man gurgled, his hands grasping futilely at the wound. Blood spurted out, painting the alley walls in a macabre display. Lennie watched dispassionately as life drained from his eyes, her expression unreadable.

The Brutal Execution

As the man slumped to the ground, Lennie’s eyes glinted with a cold satisfaction. She wasn’t finished. She knelt beside him, her blade slicing through his flesh with precision. Her movements were methodical, almost surgical, as she carved into his body. The sound of tearing flesh and breaking bones echoed in the alley, a gruesome symphony in the dead of night.

Lennie: *(murmuring to herself)* "You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, my friend."

She finished her work, her hands and arms slick with blood. Standing up, she surveyed the scene. The man’s body was a mangled mess, unrecognizable. Lennie wiped her blade on his clothes, cleaning the blood off with a clinical efficiency.

The Aftermath

Lennie looked around, ensuring no one had seen her. Satisfied, she slipped back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared. Her heart pounded with the thrill of the kill, the rush of power and control.

As she walked away, Lennie’s mind returned to her plans with Isaac and Victor. She knew she had to maintain her facade, keep playing her part. But in these moments, alone in the dark, she embraced her true nature. The killer lurking beneath the surface, biding her time.

She reached her apartment, slipping inside without a sound. In the bathroom, she washed the blood from her hands, watching as the water turned red before swirling down the drain. Her reflection in the mirror was calm, composed, a stark contrast to the violence she had just committed.

Lennie: *(to herself)* "One more down. How many more to go?"

The Next Morning

The next morning, Lennie sat with Isaac, the two of them planning their next move against Victor. Isaac looked at her, unaware of the horrors she had unleashed the previous night. He saw only the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to protect.