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skonen_bladesIt was a stinky brick tunnel a few meters under the feet of the pedestrians. Brackish water flowed by thickly. Fecal gelatin bobbed to the surface occasionally like the eyes of alligators. The tunnel was a half-full artery pumping a sludge of molasses past the knees of our heroine.
She only dressed in pink and white. She always wore sunglasses. Her code name was Champagne Quartz. Right now, she was up to her thighs in a river of shit.
“This really is going too far.” She thought to herself. An very lean girl by nature, made even leaner by the fact that her metabolism had been overowound by the corporation.
Soon, she’d be under the sewer grate of the target’s basement.
She could see it inset into the ceiling of the tunnel. Weak lines of light filtered down from it, glimmering on the rippling surface of the dark river.
She walked slowly forward with her arms out for balance until she was standing underneath it. She looked up. Four bars of light from the grate played across her emaciated face.
She took off her over-sized sunglasses and put them into the pocket of her faux-fur pink overcoat.
Her eyes were dark, glimmering pits.
She reached up toward the grate and stretched her arms. Her thin fingers wound through the slats in the metal. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her muscles like a boa constrictor. The veins on her arms stood out.
The grate came loose with a crack. Champagne lost her balance and fell backwards into the river, entirely submerged for a second before rising back to a standing position, gasping for breath in the dank, putrid tunnel.
“Control is going to pay.” She said to herself. It became a whispered mantra as she reached up and wriggled through the small hole into the target’s green tiled basement.
This was where the target did his killing. She lay there in the dark on the hospital-green tiles. She was a stick figure dressed in pink and dipped in brown, taking deep breaths of fresh air that wasn’t tainted with methane. The river sloshed by underneath her. There was old blood on the tiles.
Suddenly the full lights snapped on. Champagne flipped up into a battle crouch, nails fanned for full deployment and eyes amped to red points for attack.
Her target was standing in front of her.
“Well, well. They told me they were sending the Pink Lady herself but I didn’t believe them. Whoo-ee! You smell bad. Can I offer you anything? Hose you down?” he said with a laugh.
Champagne Quartz relaxed her guard. Her target was right. This was too much. She stood up and leaned with her back against the wall and started laughing.
tags
She only dressed in pink and white. She always wore sunglasses. Her code name was Champagne Quartz. Right now, she was up to her thighs in a river of shit.
“This really is going too far.” She thought to herself. An very lean girl by nature, made even leaner by the fact that her metabolism had been overowound by the corporation.
Soon, she’d be under the sewer grate of the target’s basement.
She could see it inset into the ceiling of the tunnel. Weak lines of light filtered down from it, glimmering on the rippling surface of the dark river.
She walked slowly forward with her arms out for balance until she was standing underneath it. She looked up. Four bars of light from the grate played across her emaciated face.
She took off her over-sized sunglasses and put them into the pocket of her faux-fur pink overcoat.
Her eyes were dark, glimmering pits.
She reached up toward the grate and stretched her arms. Her thin fingers wound through the slats in the metal. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her muscles like a boa constrictor. The veins on her arms stood out.
The grate came loose with a crack. Champagne lost her balance and fell backwards into the river, entirely submerged for a second before rising back to a standing position, gasping for breath in the dank, putrid tunnel.
“Control is going to pay.” She said to herself. It became a whispered mantra as she reached up and wriggled through the small hole into the target’s green tiled basement.
This was where the target did his killing. She lay there in the dark on the hospital-green tiles. She was a stick figure dressed in pink and dipped in brown, taking deep breaths of fresh air that wasn’t tainted with methane. The river sloshed by underneath her. There was old blood on the tiles.
Suddenly the full lights snapped on. Champagne flipped up into a battle crouch, nails fanned for full deployment and eyes amped to red points for attack.
Her target was standing in front of her.
“Well, well. They told me they were sending the Pink Lady herself but I didn’t believe them. Whoo-ee! You smell bad. Can I offer you anything? Hose you down?” he said with a laugh.
Champagne Quartz relaxed her guard. Her target was right. This was too much. She stood up and leaned with her back against the wall and started laughing.
tags