Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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Sunlight shined under the door like a ghoul's grin, yet gave the shutters a halo of golden rays. Waking was like a hammer swung with gusto toward a painted 'x' on Silvia's skull. Sleep dragged her backward until a new thought could penetrate - She had a new contract to discuss. The bed was warm, the air was cold, yet her legs extended outward into the chill.
Her feet grazed against the wooden floor and she found that it was, surprisingly, a lot warmer than she had been expecting. The girl's eyes lazily rolled open, glazed over with the remnants of a dream; one of the family that had been torn apart by a criminal no different to those she hunted down.
A groan rolled through her throat as she forced herself to stand. The burn near her ribcage was even more sore today than it was last night - like her mind had finally caught up with the pain.
Gently hovering her hand over the aching area, she shuffled toward her kitchen table. Silvia grabbed an apple from the bowl in the middle and plopped back down on the chair. Her free hand unfolded the Newspaper that sat on the wooden surface, the other bringing the apple to her mouth.
"The Reaper strikes again." She read in a small voice full of indifference, pearly teeth biting into the crust of the apple. The article was full of interviews regarding her other identity, some praising her and others shunning her. She was used to this by now, it seemed like every week there was a new article about the public's split opinions.
Silvia took another large bite from the fruit in her hand and turned the page. As expected, there were far too many articles about Superman. 'Man of Steel saves hundreds from plane crash'... 'Superman attends presidential celebration'... It was starting to feel like it was impossible to avoid him. Even there, in the security of her own home, he taunted her.
The girl leaned back and tossed the apple core across the room, getting it directly in the trash can with a quiet 'dink'. Silvia gave a sigh and, expression slacking to one of even greater boredom, she turned to the next page.
There in black and white filter was a photo of something all too familiar. A mech stood tall behind a bunch of people, and it looked exactly the same as the group of mechs that had attacked her the night before.
Silvia leapt forward, eyes widening at the page then scanning it for answers. None of the people looked familiar, but upon closer inspection she saw that they all wore the same shirt. Written on the breast pocket was the word 'Lexcorp'.
"Luthor." Silvia growled, stabbing her fingernail onto the Newspapers surface. A small rip formed beneath it and sunk through the robots head. Lex better hope that the Boy Scout doesn't read the paper.
There was little more excitement to be had staring at that page, and so it wasn't long before Silvia had thrown on any random clothes she found lying around the house and left. Attached to her thigh, as always, was a pistol. It was hidden beneath the fabric of her pants, yet still quickly accessible.
