Kill All Men

Chapter Three

"I'm sorry, girl." I say in a whispered tone. I charge for her full speed, not holding back a muscle. As I am almost and inch away, she did exactly what I wanted her to do. Duck down. I jump over her frail body and attack the man behind her I head bud his junk then round house him when he fell to his knees. He passed out to the ground. I take the knife on the ground and stab him repeatedly. I pick up the gun that was on the floor and fire three shots into the air, accidentally striking two people while I did so. When everyone started to panic, I took his knife from his pocket then ran to the girl who remained on her knees. I help her off of the floor and run to the doors with her hand in mine. I bust through the doors and push my way through the others, periodically looking behind me to check of the little girl was okay.
Straight ahead, I saw the exit. When someone tried to get in my way, I'd kill them off and keep going. The path to freedom was at my finger tips. I could practically fell the cold winter air hit my cheeks. My right foot hits the outside and my left was lifting off the ground when I looked back. Her eyes were filled with wonder. Her pail skin was flushed with red on her cheeks from the sharp cold air. Her black her flowed in the wind as I pulled her along.
Then, I feel her hand slip from mine. I look back frantically and see that she's no where to be found. I looked for her but even when the building cleared out, I still couldn't find her.

All of this happened eleven years ago. I'm now twenty four and those days still haunt me. Being raped, beat to a pole and losing a little girl who barely even begun to live. Since then, I've pushed the memory of her into the depths of my mind and continued on. If I was going to make it on my own, I couldn't have any distractions.
"Madam Luna. Your limo has arrived." Out of all the people that work for me, Matteo has to be the most loyal. He's always been a dependable employee, hence why he is my favorite.
I look to the glass chandelier that hangs above me and my white leather couch as I swirl the white wine in my wine glass. I breath out in aggravation. I'm not looking forward to leaving my second home, stationed in Italy. I've become quiet comfortable.
"I'll be right there, Matteo." I say with a smile. When he leaves, I look to the board covered in my enemies faces one last time. Everyone who has ever abandoned or betrayed me has landed a home on this board. I will kill every single person, one by one and show no remorse.
All of them are men. Men are the reason behind everything that happened to me, other then my mother. It will start with them then I'll dominate the world. You can count on it.
I look to the picture that's smack dab in the middle. My step father. I walk to the door before throwing the knife laced on my thigh belt. It lands right in between my step fathers green eyes and I walk away pleased.
The drive to the airport is silent, as I like it. Since all that happened, the quiet and I have become fond of each other.
"Madam Luna." I look up from my phone, without lifting my head fully, and make dead eye contact with the man siting in front of me. I show him no emotion and just await for his next words, but he remains silent.
"Choose your next words carefully, Gaston. I'm not feeling too generous." I state before fully siting back in my chair. He hands me his phone.
"I think you should look at this." I take a hold of his phone and look at the top picture. My "I don't give a fuck" vide evaporated into thin air when I see the text below it.
"The fuck is this?" My voice stays at a quiet tone but drenched in infuriating dominance.
"That underground investigator you hired found this three minutes ago."
"Did this murder just happen?" I still try to keep my calm. He nods to me and I hand him his phone.
"When we get back to New York, I want all newspapers, headlines, texts, pictures, anything you can find on this."
"Yes ma'am. What will you do?"
"I'm going to go see of for myself."
"Madam, Luna. Lets to make any rash decisions."
"Lets? Last time I checked I was above you. You work for me." I grab him by his tie and pull him to me. "This isn't a shared business, boy. So watch it." I let go of him and watch the fear run across his face. I stir back and ease into my seat before putting a toothpick in between my teeth. "And besides, it's my step fathers murder. What kind of daughter would I be if I just...ignored it?"

When we touch the New York ground, I can already hear people roaring from outside of the jet. It's seems that every where I go, paparazzi and reporters show up out of no where. It's aggravating.
The door lifts and I'm instantly blinded as the camera flashes pop like pins. I use my right arm to cover my eyes as my men follow behind me, through the crowd. Microphones and pens are rapidly coming towards my face as we walk. It's sending my fight or flight through the roof and I've never been one to runaway.
When I've finally made my way into the airport, I put on my mask and hood. I don't want to be recognized yet again.
As I'm walking, I see a short girl sitting in a stool at the McDonalds café, sipping on an iced coffee. I can see nothing but her pail skin and naturally narrowed eyes. Her hair is almost pitch black and flows past her butt. When I stare back, she doesn't falter. I deepen my dominant glare and she submits to it like a puppy. I smirk to myself when I see her look down then continue walking.
I walk out the doors and the New York air hits my face. It isn't until then, I realize that the sky is black. The men and I go our separate ways, me going to the building my father was killed in and them getting all the info they can possibly get.

The entire area is covered in yellow caution tape, cutting the public from the inside. When I got close enough, the smell of rotting flesh and the metallic-y aroma of blood surrounds me. I step through the tape and make my way inside. There was a total of four bodies on the ground, zipped up in body bags. I clench my gun before entering fully. I unzip all the bags to see the faces of the men who died. The first three had faces I didn't recognize so you could only imagine how hesitant I was to see what is inside. I build up the minimal courage I have and quickly unzip the bag. This body smelt the worst. When I get over the sent of it, I look at its face and silently curse myself.
"Shit." I stand up from my squatted position and breath heavily in attempt to calm myself. I fail, and the scream sitting in my throat surfaces. I look everywhere to find something to break, and when I see nothing, I walk too the head of the body. "You know, I should be happy your dead, but for some reason, I can't help but feel disgusted." I poke the side of his head with my gun before bashing his head into mush with my foot. I repeatedly stomp on his face until I'm some what satisfied. The satisfaction isn't enough. I was supposed to be the one to take his life, the one to see the fear in his eyes when he realizes his life would no longer mean anything. Someone took that from me and wont stop until I find them, and kill them myself.