High Profile

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I push through the front doors with the same enthusiasm I reserve for waking up. Blood still drying. Coat heavier by one corpse named Prick. The lobby hits me like a flashbang made of smiles.

The place is packed.

I stop walking.

Dozens of women. Maybe more. All shapes, all wrong in their own special ways. They are alive enough to clap. They do.

That is new.

I leave for one job and come back to a parade. I hate parades.

A few of them recognize me instantly. Eyes widen. Someone gasps like they just met a celebrity instead of a guy who snaps necks for cardio.

Prostitue: It's him!

Whore: You're totally right, it's him!

Courtesan: Thank you, handsome!

I scratch my beard.

Y/N: What?

They cheer louder.

Great.

A blur of red and sunshine barrels toward me.

Charlie appears, beaming so hard it should be illegal. Arms open. She goes for a hug like this is a musical number.

I sidestep.

She almost faceplants.

Charlie: Oh. Wow. You are fast.

Y/N: You are loud.

She laughs like nothing bad has ever happened to her, which means she is either lying or dangerous.

Charlie: Welcome back. Oh my gosh, you have no idea how excited I am!

Y/N: I have a pretty good idea.

She gestures wildly to the crowd.

Charlie: All these people are here because of you. After you rescued them, they wanted to redeem themselves. I have never had this many guests before. Never. It is amazing.

Redeem. That word crawls on my skin.

Y/N: I didn't rescue anyone.

Charlie: You totally did.

Y/N: I killed people.

Charlie: Sometimes that is step one.

I stare at her.

She smiles harder.

From the shadows near the bar, a presence unfolds like a bad radio signal given teeth.

Alastor steps forward, grin sharp, eyes old. He claps slowly. Each clap echoes too much.

Alastor: Ah, my dear Harbinger of Death. Denial does not suit you, but it is charming. I witnessed it with my own eyes. Chains shattered. Desperation turned into hope. Quite the spectacle.

Y/N: You enjoy spectacles.

Alastor: Immensely.

He leans closer, voice smooth and wrong.

Alastor: Tell me. Did you take care of Prick?

Y/N: With extreme prejudice.

Alastor: Music to my ears.

The guests start murmuring. Some nod. Some look relieved. One looks like she might cry.

Charlie: See? You helped them. You helped all of them.

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