Raven (murder_of_raven) wrote in powerofthepen,

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First Post

Okay... this is my first post hope I did everything right....

Title: Meanings of Your Sillouette
Author: Raven
Summary: David is the best in the business. Nobody has ever died on his watch... at least almost nobody. But things are going wrong, what started as a simple bodygaurd job protecting the popular Senator Harris has turned desperate. The assasines are closing in....
Rating: PG-13 for adult subject matter, action violence, and harsh language. 
Questions/Comments/Suggestions/Ect?: Comment or email me at shadowcat2323@hotmail.com. Writing is still in manuscript form, once completed I will go back through and tune things up.

Enjoy and Please comment! Chapter 2 will be up very soon! =)

Chapter One:
“Senator we have to get you out of here now!” David barked, ripping the sheets off the Senator’s bed.
            “Wha? Why? What’s going on?” he paused. “Oh god no. They’re here, aren’t they?”
            Jacob fidgeted with the bottom button of his jacket; wound even tighter then usual, with deep bags under his eyes and an almost deranged look inside them. He gulped and then blurted, “Yes sir. Yes they are.”
            “But… my superiors said everything was taken care of.”
            “Obviously, they were wrong. Their mistake could cost you dearly,” David responded, gruff and curt as usual. Though perhaps there was an uncharacteristic quiver in his voice as he continued, “As I said, we need to get out of here immediately. If not we’re as good as dead.”
            “Well, security should buy us time, right?” asked the Senator, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked tired and an almost ghastly pale in the moonlight, not nearly the rosy-cheeked, energetic, little man the public knew him as.
            “I doubt it. Chances are the assailant will bypass them entirely.”
            Something seemed to click in Jacob’s head off; he twitched and began babbling hysterically, “Well, what’s the use then? What is the use! We’re dead… Dead!”
            Wham! David caught him squarely in the jaw, sending him sailing into the wall. On impact Jacob’s neck made an eerie snap like a dry twig being stepped on. David grunted in his direction, “You are at least.”
            “What was that? Jacob is my best secretary!”
            “Was,” David corrected then turned towards his bag, rapidly packing with precision as he always had. He shrugged slightly and mumbled, “It was unavoidable, in his current state he would only have interfered, sir. You hired me to protect your life, sir. At least his corpse might slow them down.”
            “I did not give you the jurisdiction to make that decision! I am the boss! I make…”
            “Sir, get out now!” David ordered, picking his miniscule employer up with one hand and opening the fire escape with the other. Above the helicopter already was whirring to life. “I’ve been in worse situations. Everything will be fine, sir. We’ve still got time.”
            A sleek figure stepped out of the escape, “Actually, it just ran out.”
            “That’s… impossible,” David whispered to himself, his normally narrow eyes widened. The stairway began fifteen floors aboveground. It was patrolled every fifteen minutes, and led to a helicopter-pad guarded at all times by a squad of no less then fifteen professionals, each with a semi-automatic rifle. Nobody could come from that direction.
            The intruder absently twisted the shock of white hair covering the left side of her face. Fingering her 9mm handgun, she smirked slyly. Its cold metallic silver mirrored her eyes. She leveled the gun at the senator, and spoke grimly, “I’m sorry sir, but your flight has been canceled.”
            The senator wailed and threw his hands pitifully up to cover his face; very sure it would be his last gesture. David roared loudly and backhanded the assailant, contacting just before she could react. She spun through the air and banged into the wall, sliding down next to Jacob’s corpse.
“Run sir, run like you’ve never ran before. Don’t look back. Don’t stop.” David ordered pushing the senator out. And run he did, straight up the stairs, his little stubby legs pumping and his pink cheeks puffing. He just wasn’t built for running…
David spun around, ready for anything. The assassin smirked, using the bedpost to stand back up, “You certainly do hit hard. You are exactly the reason why I like to tie up loose ends, but Magdalene always insists I kill ‘as few innocents as possible’. Bleh! However, you’ve assuredly earned my respect, I’m…”
“…Lilith, famous assassin, with renowned killing skills which you seem happy to use. Your leather trench-coat suggested as much but your reference to the other member of Fallen Angels was blatant.”
“Good job,” she applauded. “But I was going to say reeling. Still it’s impressive you recognized us so quickly.”
“I do my research,” David growled.
“Well then, do I get an evaluation?” Lilith mocked.
“I don’t normally make a habit of it but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.”
“Delightfully chauvinistic.”
David ignored her comment, “I respect your discipline as well as your career. I mean, what is an assassin but the other side of my own coin? But you kill simply for pleasure. I truly hate people like you, they make me sick.”
“Well good to know the feelings mutual. So now what? Do we see who can blast the other’s brains out? For someone so condescending, your eyes glow at that thought.”
“Look I don’t want to hurt you. But if you try to cross this door, I will kill you,” David warned, cradling his custom machine gun.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Lilith rubbed the developing bruise on her cheek. “But you have definitely proven to be quite a bruit-”
Her gun seemed to zip into her hand as she sprinted towards David. David pulled down hard, unloading his entire clip at her. She smoothly rolled out of the way and was up on her feet again faster then David could gasp. She aimed and fired at his torso, puncturing one of his lungs, “-but now, you’re dead.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A heavy thump echoed up to the Senator and he froze, a single flight of stairs between himself and the helicopter. David was dead; nothing stood between him and death. Another sound rose up, mocking, “You stopped!” He gasped and continued, desperately hoping he was faster then the demon behind him.
He gasped again as he reached the helicopter pad. It seemed the helicopter was the only thing still alive. The entire battalion, all fifteen of them, along with the helicopter pilot, were sprawled out, some unconscious, most dead. A woman wearing a matching leather trench coat stood backwards to him, balanced on the edge of the building, looking out across the city. Her short, red, hair billowed lightly in the breeze. The senator was immediately captivated.
She turned slowly, framed against the full moon, and straitened her glasses. The senator’s eyes bulged, she was barely over twenty and only slightly taller then him. Perhaps she would be less intimidating then her partner, except for her eyes. Framed by a round face, they were entirely black, lacking the very minimum of innocence. Their coldness was magnified by the faint glow of light reflected off the thick glass.
She spoke softly and calmly, almost hypnotically, “The acclaimed Senator Harrison, at last you join me. Yet your reputation far precedes you. Of course, you have been the catalyst of many popular laws recently. Record tax reductions, furthering the causes of many minority groups, including African-Americans and homosexuals, and a strong supporter of environmental groups. Yes, you’re just a genuinely good guy with a happy home life and a beautiful wife and children, aren’t you?”
She looked up and glared into his eyes, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Slowly she began again, the Senator’s every breath resting upon her words, “No, of course not. Secretly, you’ve also orchestrated one of the largest black-market imports of drugs, voted in favor of laws subtly removing basic rights, and created legislation encouraging sweatshop labor and oil extortion. Through all of that you’ve subtly made millions. You also have affairs with several members of your female staff. But, who cares right? That’s business; it practically comes with the job description. Unfortunately, someone has taken a recent interest in my associate and I: that is, in killing us. We want to know why, and we think you might know.”
Harrison sputtered, “Look… you-you have the wrong guy.”
“Who’s the right one then?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Magdalene shook her head, “Wrong answer.” In a split second she had crossed the fifty feet between them, leapt and flipped over his head, landing directly behind him. She leaned close, whispering into his ear, “Want to know a secret?”
Harrison lost his breath, gasping frantically for it. He dropped down to his knees, hyperventilating.
“I think it was you.” Magdalene leveled her gun at his head. “But even if it wasn’t, when you found we were coming for you, you knew you were dead. But you dragged at least forty honest hardworking people down with you. You deserve a fate worse then death. Senator, I hope you believe in hell.”
Senator George Harrison took his final breath, and chuckled, “So the secret dies with me.” Then he fell forward onto the cold pavement.
“That’s funny, they usually don’t die until I shoot them,” Magdalene pondered quietly.
 “Must you inject a moral into every job?” Lilith complained, stepping up the stairs behind her.
“Yes,” she bowed somberly, moving in front of the Senator’s uninjured corpse.


Dane stumbled after the small sounds Jones made, dragging his hand along objects, hoping to avoid bashing into them. Up ahead, Jones grunted, forcing the thick, steel, entrance-doors, which opened into the dark metropolitan winter. A cold wave of frost and neon broke upon Dane. He clutched his leather trench coat, meekly trying to ward off the unforgiving night of New Venetia. As he followed Dane happened to glance upon his gloved hand, which now was covered in a thick, gray, dust. He blinked and noticed matching marks on his trench coat.
By the time he had reassembled and followed through the door Jones had already hailed a taxi. As the car began moving Dane looked back at the large marble entrance of the government building. As it sunk back into the distance Dane could’ve sworn someone was standing in the doorway, looking back at him. Someone as white as the snow that fell around her.

Coming in Chapter 2: 
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