SmackDown: MadMike's Revenge!

Round 2, Hermaphrodeity: Bones - @VintageVulpes

Bones

by VintageVulpes

Night. Always a time to be alive. The stars twinkling. The crickets chirping. Every man, woman and child tucked away in bed, fast asleep.

The perfect time to work the boneyards.

She had a system. It was efficient. Perfect, really. Because no one expected a woman to go pilfering through piles of bones. A man, maybe—men were sick; it was expected of them. But women? No. And if they caught her, she could easily play all innocent. Bat her eyelashes and shoot them a smile. It always worked. She'd done it before. She'd do it again.

Her bag was full of femurs, skulls, shoulder blades. And all kinds of little ones, too: full toes and fingers, individual knuckles.

If someone were to take a peek inside they'd be horrified by what they saw. Because there was something else in there. Something nobody would want to see.

And she'd have to take care of them if they caught on. She'd done that before, too.

She was digging out a sweet-looking pelvis when a spotlight lit her up. She hissed through her teeth and turned to see someone headed her way—couldn't tell much, because the light had them backlit. They were just a shadow.

She realized what had happened here. She'd gotten too cocky. "Fuck you, Mad Mike Marsbergen," she muttered to herself and prepared for war.

"Drop the bone!" one of the cops demanded.

She squinted against the light behind them, trying to make out what she was up against. It looked to her like they were fully outfitted in bone armor and were armed with lances- most likely poisoned.

"I said drop it, woman!" the same voice shouted, his voice cracking with force.

Her jaw clenched involuntarily, but her eye roll was deliberate as she dropped the precious bone and raised her hands over her head. "I can explain," she shouted back. She could feel the weight of the knife at her side, and her fingers itched to wrap around the carved inlay of bone.Her adrenaline rushed as she pictured the sharp edge being plunged into at least one of the ghouls walking towards her.

They were halfway towards her now as the one she imagined being the chief continued to shout demands. What was in her bag was too precious to let fall into the wrong hands should she be arrested.

"State your name!" the leader again shouted from afar.

"Shit," she muttered. She recognized that voice. There was no 'batting of the eyelashes' and 'playing innocent'. Not with this one. "Fuck you, Mad Mike Marsbergen!" she shouted back.

"Woman, I will not ask again!"

She squinted her eyes against the light once more before lowering her right arm to show him her middle finger; however, as she'd been caught at this before it was nothing but a half nub of what her slender finger once was.

The leader, Mad Mike, stopped in his tracks, not more than twelve strides away. Those alongside Mike also ceased and stood at the ready. "Kestra," he said, recognizing the mutilated hand that he had done himself.

Kestra smirked, knowing that he could see her face even if she couldn't see his.

"I warned you, Kestra."