ｓａｄ－ｉｓｔ

-one-

She looked down to inspection herself and saw that the fishnets she was wearing were on the verge of ripping, a pout formed on her lips. As her fingers were about to brush over the delicate material covering her legs, she heard another gunshot close to her hiding spot.

"Shit," she cursed, her pout turning into an annoyed expression, "right when I'm busy fixing my damn outfit," she mumbled. Her body quickly retracted from her crouching position and soon enough she was standing again. Her left hand came in contact with her face, first checking if her earpiece was still on and then lazily rubbing her eyes out of tiredness.

"Hey Ji? You there, love?" Her earpiece spoke. "Mhm, still here," her right hand naturally went down to the pocket of her skirt and grabbed hold of the handle of her gun.

"How much longer do I need to wait, Ji? It's already been 20 minutes since I shut down the security system and downloaded all the stuff on the USB. I'm getting tired here ya know?" He spoke. "I know babe, but just give me some time here, yeah? You know I take pleasure in these things," her fingers secured her grip on the weapon and took it out of her pocket, she lifted it high enough so that the beams of light coming from the worn out street lamp could shine on it. Her eyes looked at it with fascination and her heart started to beat in anticipation.

Loud and rough steps could be heard close to the entrance of the ally, men in uniform stumbling and loading what could be depicted as their weapon of choice. "Okay, there are three men that are going to be running towards you in about twenty seconds, they have guns but that's it, their signal is down since I blocked it, so you don't need to worry about backups anymore, love." Her index finger found its spot on the trigger, a steady aim, she tilted her head back and let out a loose laugh. Idiots. "Thanks, babe."

As the voice she was talking to mentioned before, three men came into view and organized themselves into an attacking position about fifteen meters in front of her, their guns aimed right at her body, but their nervousness could be sensed kilometers away. "She has a gun," one of them mentioned to his walkie talkie patch on his shoulder as the other two just gave a curt nod. "Drop your weapon and put your hands where we can see them now!" One of them shouted. They slowly took steps forward expecting the unexpected, but to their surprise, there was no movement at all coming from the girl, not even a shaky breath. "I won't say it again, drop your-" "yeah I heard your bullshit, no need to repeat it," she gave the man a smirk, her silver gun aimed right at his head. "As cliche as it sounds, I don't think you guys know who you're messing with," her eyes sparkled again with pure madness; as they noticed, their grips wavered.

"You see, I find pleasure in killing," she started to walk closer to them without hesitation, her smirk never leaving. "I find killing a work of art," she continued, her voice becoming harsher and darker than what it was seconds ago and her steps increasing in pace. "I don't find guilt by killing others who are in my way," the police flinched and one of them was now shaking in fear and nervousness, totally forgetting about his gun, giving her an advantage since it was easy to differentiate between the experienced and the inexperienced.

 "And finally, I want you guys to know that you are not leaving this place alive."