The Gang Girl

Chapter 14- Remembering part 4

"Are you going to make it clean and quick, or make the bastard pay for what he did?" Alpha's voice says softly through the comms unit in my ear as I stare at the building Omega's murderer just went into.

"What does the gang say? Personally, I believe he should pay, but if they want quick and clean with minimal attention to the murder, I'll keep it clean and then chain his body to a concrete slab and dump it in the ocean." I say, a venomous tone in my voice.

Bastard deserves to suffer. Like Haydn's family has, like the gang has, like Alpha has, like I have.

"You've spent 6 months fucking around with this guy. He's a wreck."

"Alpha, quick and clean, or a long drawn out mess. It's yours and the gang's decision, I'm just the messenger." I say through gritted teeth as I watch my watch.
Time was slipping away and I've spent to much time waiting for this guy to leave his house without his guards to let this opportunity to go to waste.

The comms unit is quiet for a couple more minutes.

"Alpha."

"They want a mess, Fighter. They want to prove a point. They want the other gangs to know what happens when you kill a member of the Shadows of the Night. Leave our calling card. The cops won't interfer. The gangs however, will slink back to their dens and cower at the mention our name."

I smirk softly. Good.

"The shadows hold the secrets of the night." I say softly.

"Let the shadows witness another secret." Alpha responds back, voice strong and powerful, and in the background, I can hear the voices of my gang, waiting in anticipation.

I step out of the car, and double check my weapons.

Throwing knives strapped to the insides of my wrists.

Knee length black coat covering the 10 knives strapped to my thigh.

My gun tucked into the back of my jeans.

Two knives tucked into my knee high black boots.

***

"You should have known better then to take home a girl dressed in all black." I say, stalking just a little closer to the man who had seemed so untouchable until I started torturing him from afar six months ago.

"Fucking slut, you threw yourself at me." He snarls.

I tsk at him.

"Poor man, you honestly can't believe that I'd want the man who murdered my boyfriend." I say, taking him in.

Black hair, blue eyes, tall. Such a shame. He's rather handsome. And young.

He pales slightly as he realises who I am and what gang I'm from.

"Please. No. Oh God, please don't." He whispers.

I pull out my gun and turn the safety off.

"My guards. My guards will hear you. Quick and clean won't be fast enough for you to get out of here." He tells me.

I chuckle and turn away from him. I place the gun on the dresser before stalking to the window and close the curtains. It's rather fitting they're all black.

"Even if the gang wanted this quick and clean, I'd have made it out. You're guards are all knocked out cold. We work rather fast like that." I say sweetly, fingering the curtains.

I hear him shift behind me.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." I say not even bothering to turn around.

"Do what?" He asks, trying to force confidence into his voice.

"Oh sweetie, I think we both know the tricks of the trade. For example, I know you just got your phone out and are recording everything. I also know that when I turn around, you'll hastily slip it into your pocket. But then we both also know that an eye for an eye is how this industry works, so if you didn't want to die in the first place, you shouldn't have shot our second in command." I say, still keeping my tone sweet, implying no action was going to happen.

Yet.

He shifts again, and I know he's just slipped his phone back into his pocket.

I turn around and smile at him, while unbuttoning my coat. Even though he knows he's about to die, he still takes the time to take in my body as I let the coat slide off my shoulders and onto the ground.

"Damn baby girl, if you weren't about to kill me, and the circumstances were different, well, you know." He trails off as I reach up and tie my hair back, the action making my black singlet ride up, revealing a strip of my toned stomach.

"If the circumstances were different, we wouldn't have ever met and you wouldn't even know what you're missing out on." I say simply, as I lower my arms back down and cross them across my chest, making the blades strapped to my wrists flash as the lights reflect off of them.

He notes the knives and pulls out a black handheld gun from where it was obviously tucked into the waistband of his dress pants.

Once again, I tsk.

"Silly young man. We never act until you pull the weapons on us. Now it's self defence when I kill you." I scold him, smirking as I pull little black gloves out of my jeans pockets and slip them on.

Wouldn't want to leave unnecessary fingerprints in places they don't belong.

I walk closer to him, the heels on my boots tapping on the wooden floors. He brings the gun up and cocks the trigger but again, I just chuckle at him and kick him in the wrist, sending the gun flying.

He gasps in pain and cradles his wrist to his body as I pull out my first throwing knife.

"Game over." I whisper, looking him in the eyes.

***

"Please, just kill me. Please. God it hurts too much. Just kill me." He begs, laying in a pool of his own blood.

"You have half an hour left. It took Omega 5 minutes to die in my arms. It's going to take you five hours to die by my hand." I say, moving away from him and sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room demurely, crossing one black jean clad leg over the other.

"Please. Please. God. Please just kill me." He whimpers.

I hiss silently under my breath.

This guy is meant to be the leader of my gangs rival. And I broke him. Threes hours and he stopped trying to talk me out of killing him. An hour of silence. He's spent the last half an hour begging me to just kill him.

I observe him for a little while before uncrossing my legs and standing up. He flinches at the movement.

"For someone who keeps begging me to kill him, you don't seem ready to die." I muse, before walking to the massive wardrobe, looking for a black blanket.

Ahh bingo.

I walk back into the bedroom and unfold the blanket slowly. I chuck the unfolded cloth onto the bed and retake my seat in the chair. 15 minutes left.

14 knives. Plus the gangs calling card.

One knife per minute.

I slide the first knife out of its holster.

I look at the hand closest to me.

I take aim.

I throw the knife. The screaming doesn't stop for 14 minutes.

He doesn't make a sound as I throw the black blanket over his body and plunge the calling card into his chest.