Reaper's Bane

The Burden of Lust Weighs Heavy

I swallow an exasperated sigh as the man currently pressing my body into the wall begins rutting against me desperately. Rolling my eyes up towards the dingy ceiling I thank the Gods that I've managed to keep his pants securely attached to his body, although this job would have been easier if I had followed through on my seduction. Sometimes though, a girl just needs to have a little fun. And subterfuge and deception are so much more fun than outright violence. I sink my fingers into the man's dirty blonde hair, letting false moans of pleasure slip from my mouth. The sound makes the man all the more desperate as he groans against my neck. I need to finish this up before he comes in his pants, and he's no longer distracted by my "feminine wiles".

I slide a hand down my body, acting as though I'm caressing myself, as I slip a dagger from the hidden folds of my dress. Using the hand currently buried in his hair I give a sharp yank, eliciting another deep groan as he tilts his head back into my grasp. Then with a quick, practiced movement I drive the knife into his throat cutting through the trachea and give it a sharp jerk to the side to sever through his carotid artery. When I first got into this line of work, I thought severing the main artery in the neck was all that was needed. Now, after years of practice, I use a little more finesse in my killings, and I know that by cutting into the trachea he'll die both quickly and quietly. His severed trachea will prevent any air from reaching his vocal cords which in turn keeps those pesky screams of pain trapped deep in his chest.

His eyes find mine as an intoxicating blend of surprise and horror flit across his face. And the last thing he'll ever see is his killer, licking his blood from her blade.

I'd almost feel bad if I didn't know what kind of monster this man really was. Instead, I'm just left feeling unsatisfied. The deception was fun, but it ended way too soon. Honestly this entire job was too easy to effectively ease the bloodlust thrumming through my veins.

Sighing I look over the rapidly cooling body of the man, watching as the flow of blood from the gaping wound on his neck starts to slow. I'd done my research to ensure he really was as bad as the contract had made him out to be. Investigating targets was a big part of my process after all, even my lax moral compass can't handle the thought of killing someone truly innocent. And my clients know that if they try to trick me into killing someone who doesn't deserve it, they become the contract.

Shoving his body away from me, I watch it tumble to the termite eaten wood floor with grim satisfaction. Walking to the other side of the small room I head towards the washbasin, intent on cleaning up the blood spattered across my chest and face.

Through the mirror I examine the man. He was an abuser and an adulterer. And while adultery is not usually a crime I reward with death, his other crimes ensured he was destined to meet his end on my executioner's block. His wife had discreetly put out the contract when his abuse towards her started extending to their daughter as well. The status of women in this world as something less than, something to be owned, meant she couldn't escape her fate, but she refused to subject her daughter to it. Her late husband's status and wealth made the situation particularly tricky as others in this line of work tend to balk at drawing that much attention to themselves. Not to mention, she wasn't able to pay up front, not even a deposit, and no one willing to kill a high-ranking Fae was also merciful enough to accept a job with no proof of an incoming payday. Lucky for her, I was willing to accept the job with only the promise of a sizable payment from her husband's coffers once it was completed. It wasn't from the kindness of my heart by any means. If anything, I was selfishly motivated by my own goals. She didn't know it, but I would have done the job for free.

Nevertheless, he was easy prey, men who beat women usually are, and his death would pad my pocket quite nicely. Men like him always seemed to underestimate me, whether that's a result of their money or their influence I don't know. Or maybe it's just that the idea of a woman being able to hurt them is so far beyond their realm of belief they don't spend any time considering I might be dangerous. It makes their death at the end of my blade, all the more pleasant.