Genevieve Snow, the cousin of Caitlin Snow, has spent most of her life pretending to be someone she isn't. Going down that path has led her to pursue in an interesting occupation.
Gen is an assassin for an unauthorized goverment organization.
She's...
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The sound of car horns and chatter flowed through Gen's window.
The blonde was sitting on a dark green couch, a bowl of fruity pebbles and milk in her hand. She stared at the tv with a blank expression, the dialogue from the tv show becoming white noise.
The first month out here was all fun and dandy for Gen.
Kicking ass taking names. She even met Supergirl on more than one occasion.
But now, all she wanted was to wake up in her own bed, head to her own job, and hang out with her own friends.
Speaking of friends...
Gen grabbed the burner phone that Delilah gave to her when they last saw each other.
The day she moved to National City.
Now all she wanted was-
Suddenly a soft knock came at her door.
Her entire body tensed up and her hand immediately went to the pair of scissors on the coffee table. Slowly standing up, she made her way across the floor to the door.
The floor was painfully cold under her feet despite the 70° weather outside.
She quietly looked through the peep-hole and saw a middle aged man with a beer belly and a gray colored beard.
He knocked again, causing Gen to jump slightly.
Get yourself together, she thought, it's only the mailman.
She took a relaxed breath before opening the door. The man looked up from his clipboard at Gen with one of the cheeriest smiles she's ever seen.
"Good morning Miss, I have a small package here for you," he geatured to the small cardboard box being held under his arm.
She immediately hid the scissors in her hand behind her back and slipped into her pocket.
"Who is it from?" Gen's gaze flickered to the package.
The mailman looked at his clip board and shook his head, "Sorry miss, doesn't say."
Gen raised an eyebrow and took the clipboard he handed over to her. Scribbling down her signature, she took the box from the man and closed the door.
She stared down at the box, puzzled.
No one, except Delilah, knows I'm here, she thought, maybe someone put the wrong address?
She gently placed the box on the table and took out the scissors from her pocket.
Opening the box, seeing the contents of it, made her stumble back into the counter as if all the oxygen in her lungs were squeezed out of her.
Inside the small, cardboard box was a small piece of paper covered in dropleta of blood. Next to it was a picture of a lifeless Delilah, bloody on the ground. Her glassy eyes staring back through the picture.
Her legs almost gave out from under her and her senses seemed to shut down.
On the paper three simple words were written in perfect script.
You're next darling.
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FINALLY this chapter is done. I literally have not been able to find time to work on this chapter, even though it's really short, it actually got me pissed off.
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