Birds of a Feather

Melanie never really enjoyed people. Maybe that had to do with the fact that she killed people for a living, but other than that, she simply never enjoyed their presence. No one to annoy her, no one to distract her, no one to share pay with. And that's exactly how she liked it and how things have went for her until now.

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"You might be wondering why you're here. You will be transferred and added to a crew. They have a stationary location in Paris and you will be sent there. I think you'll fit in, 56, trust me." The lead contractor stated to the increasingly furious girl.

"You can't just fucking send me away. I've worked hard and always got the job done, so what's changed? I don't fucking like people." The blonde snapped, forgetting any formalities.

"Please Mel..." The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and using the nickname of the girl's chosen name. "Just trust me on this. I can't give you a specific reason, but the director wants you over there. They're a good crew, those boys. Always getting the job done, just like you. Their personalities are a little more... distracted, but I'm sure you'll be fine. It's either accept this offer," He emphasized the word "offer", though both of them knew what he truly meant.

"-Or be, and I mean this truthfully...terminated." He shook his head, "And I'm sure you know how that works out."

Fear briefly flashed across Melanie's face before she smoothly covered it with blankness and nothing else. Her head tilted downwards and she looked up through her eyelashes at the man.

"Yes, sir. When will I be transferred?" She spoke robotically

"Tomorrow morning."

Fuck.