Post by Zoe Tomlinson on Jan 4, 2022 15:22:16 GMT
.::. Prolog .::.
.The sounds of footsteps can be heard crunching against grass on a cold, dark night. The location is unknown, but the only form of luminescence is from a singular lamppost that is about six feet away and only revealing a circular area of about three feet directly surrounding itself, so it is of no help when it comes to revealing whoever it is that is out on a walk this late at night. They appear to acknowledge that the lamppost is there, and walk around it in a manner that keeps them concealed and ensuring that they can continue their leisurely walk in peace and tranquility. Their steps and the owls that are occasionally flying ahead providing the only sounds as they make their way throughout the vast, vacant parkland, plumes of smoke can be seen floating into the air every time a breath leaves their lips, before they appear to stop about one hundred and fifty yards from the lamppost, as the sound of their footsteps suddenly stop. Leaving the hooting of the owls as the sole sound that can be heard.
That is until the sound of additional footsteps, appearing to be coming from the opposite direction from which the original set had been, can be heard crunching against the grass. Heading right toward where it can be assumed the first figure is standing. They too, have managed to keep themselves concealed, helped by the fact that they had come from the north-east and therefore, out of the line of light emitted from any of the lampposts that lit up the park. Staring in that direction, the first figure appears to nod in acknowledgement of the second figure's arrival, appearing to indicate that the two know, or at least are somewhat familiar with one another.
Figure 1: "Didn't expect to see you here. Thought you would be sleeping by now"
The voice is soft. Feminine in nature; appearing to belong to somebody in their early twenties. A gravelly chuckle is then heard, appearing to come from the second figure, appearing to be masculine in naturel originally from somebody who is in their mid-to-late fifties or early sixties. The two simply stare at one another, the first figure awaiting the response from the second figure, if they have one to their statement. Softly shaking their head, the second figure takes a step back whilst maintaining his eye contact.
Figure 2: :I would be, if you hadn't called me out here."
The masculine figure follows that rebuttal with a hearty yet sarcastic figure as the feminine figure simply stands there, unmoved by his attempts to poke a hole in her logic.
Figure 2: :What are you doing out this late, anyway?"
His inquiry is rough yet calm in nature, it causes a gentle shake of the head from the feminine figure, as the masculine figure appears to reach into the pocket of his jeans or whatever he is wearing to cover his legs, extracting an object that has the size of a lighter from them. The soft flickering sound can be heard as the flame bursts to life, revealing that both the masculine and feminine figures are wearing black nylon jackets with hoods pulled over their heads to conceal their faces before the lighter is flicked once more, causing both their identities to be plunged into darkness once more, as the man places the lighter back in his pocket.
Woman: "I need to ask you a favor."
Man: :"Couldn't it have waited until the morning, or been done over the phone? You know that it can be dangerous at night."
A stern look appears across the feminine figure's face causing the male figure to lower his head slightly, he then takes a step back before softly chuckling again. This time attempting to break the tension that has begun to rise within the air.
Woman: "I can handle myself, Remember, I'm trained in four different forms of martial arts." She lets out an exasperated sigh. "I swear, sometimes you sound just like dad."
Man: :"He sounds like a good man." He then lets out another chuckle, though notices the cold glare he is receiving in response. "I'm sure he only had your best interests at heart. You know how some people can be. Sometimes, it doesn't matter what training you have. Especially if they have a weapon. I've heard stories of people who were trained in combat. Even military veterans, yet they were still assaulted and even killed in the dead of night."
Not even flinching at those words, the woman's eyes appear to narrow as the male matches her stare.
Man: :"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?"
Woman: "I wanted to ask you if you could track someone for me. It's kind of important, and I know you have 'contacts' so I thought you would be the one to ask,"
The man simply stares at her, his face appearing to crinkle up under the hood as wrinkles appear between his eyes. The woman's face remains stoic. Cold as she continues to hold her stare, the owls hooting overhead remaining the only sound as the two silently stand there. Waiting for one of them to break the silence as tension continues to build in the air.
Man: :"You could have simply told me this over the phone"
His stern, frustrated words are broken by her stare turning into a death glare as she raises her right index finger to her mouth.
Woman: "No. I couldn't have. Nor could I have asked in the morning, as this is urgent and nobody can know about this."
The man simply looks at the woman, wrinkles continuing to appear between his eyebrows.
Man: :"This isn't an assassination target, is it? Or anything that will put you in the FBI's sights? You know that I don't do that sort of thing."
The woman sighs, before softly shaking her head, causing the man's lips to gently turn upward and into a smile.
Woman: "No. I just need to talk to them. You know I wouldn't ask you if it was something that would get either of us in trouble." She watches as the man simply nods. "So, are you willing to do it?"
The man laughs as he reaches into the left breast pocket of his jeans, pulling out two objects. A pen and paper that he always keeps on him.
Man: :"I don't have a choice in this, do I?"
Laughing more nervous than he had been previously, he rests the piece of paper in his hands.
Woman: "Not really."
Her tone deadpan, she curls her own lips into a smile upon noticing him with the piece of paper.
Woman: "Good to see you understand. I really didn't want to have to resort to... let's just say other methods to get you to do this."
Knowing exactly what she means by 'other methods', the man nervously gulps before she takes a step forward, her eyes narrow and a deadpan expression across her face. An object similar to a gun can be seen jutting out from between her jeans and her right hip. One that had previously gone unseen. Catching a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, he gulps once more as a sense of dread begins to wash over him.
Man: :"You're... You're not going to use that, are you?"
Woman: "Use what?"
Her inquiry is delivered in a defensive sort of tone as the man extends his right hand out, using his index finger to point in the direction of the gun. His jaw begins to tremble as a grimace appears across his face.
Woman: "No. Of course not." She then lowers her voice to a whisper so that he cannot hear her continuation. "Unless you give me a reason to do so. I hope for your sake, you don't."
Those words only cause the grimace to grow on the man's face, as a knot begins to form in his stomach before he pulls his hand back up, maintaining a hold on his pen.
Man: :"Okay,,,"
Managing to swallow his pride, the man weakly states before inquiring softly and with fear evident in his voice.
Man: :"Who is it?"
The woman softly laughs, watching as his hands begin to quiver. The pen slowly wobbles from left to right as the blend of cold and fear strikes the man's nervous system.
Woman: "Who is what?"
She slyly smiles, as the man responds in a sharp, impatient tone.
Man: :"The person you want me to track down. Who are they?"
Sensing the sheer volume of panic hidden within each word the man speaks, the woman slowly reaches into the right breast pocket of her own jacket, extracting a packet of Wrigley branded 'Big Red' chewing gum out; extending it toward the man. Staring deep into her eyes and seeing the soft, sincere expression within them, the man tentatively reaches out with his right hand, taking one piece before unwrapping it slowly as the woman does the same. Placing the gum into her mouth, the woman slowly moves her head in a clockwise direction with the gum bouncing around like a pinball whilst the man chews it in a more conventional manner before spitting it out. Spitting her own piece of gum out, the woman then glances at the man. Watching as his eyes begin to narrow.
Man: :"Are you going to tell me?"
Woman: "Yes. In time, I will."
Her lips curl upward as she gives him a warm smile, noticing the impatience growing within him.
Woman: "I just want to make sure that there is no... tension between us before I do."
Man: :"Tension? You have a gun, What the fuck do you think there's going to be?"
Woman: "Don't worry. I only have this on me for protection. I promise you have nothing to fear. I just don't want anything to go..." She raises her right eyebrow "Awry."
Man: :"Do you think I have a wire on me or something? Because I can promise you I don't. I wouldn't have come here if I did."
Woman: "I trust you, but you should know how things are... They could be anywhere. Watching. Lurking in the shadows."
The woman then extends her right arm out, moving her hips as she extends it out around her. Showing the man that they are in open parkland, where anybody could be watching. Even this late at night. Looking around, the man feels the chill continue to rise up his body that had begun previously but simply gives her an understanding nod. Turning back to him, she looks up and down his body, unable to make out any wires that are visible to her narrow eyed and focused gaze, before she raises her head and re-initiates eye contact.
Man: :"Everything good?"
The woman nods.
Woman: "We're in the clear, for now."
Man: :"So, are you going to tell me who you want me to track down?"
Inhaling deeply, the woman once again, softly nods.
Woman: "Yes. Her name is Christine Nowell."
Writing the name down on the piece of paper, the man feels his body begin to relax as a gentle breeze begins to swirl around them, whilst the song of the owls continues to play as they fly overhead, the moon guiding their path back to their respective nests. After he finishes writing her name down, the man looks back up at the female as he places the piece of paper and the pen back into his right breast pocket.
Man: :"I'll do it in the morning."
Woman: "Thank you. Text it to me when you're done, on the burner phone. Make sure nobody sees you doing this."
Man: :"You have my word."
Woman: "Good. You better keep it." Lowering her voice, she leans in so that her mouth is directly hovering over his left ear. Woman: "Otherwise, I will be forced to take... drastic measures."
She leans back, as the man softly and solemnly nods, a small knot beginning to rise within the pit of his stomach, just as it had upon sight of the gun. He then remarks.
Man: :"I promise."
The man then turns around on his heels, walking off as the woman stands there. Watching him as he disappears into the night, before reaching into the right hand side pocket of her jeans and pulling out her phone. Instinctively, she unlocks it before clicking on her contacts and pressing an unknown name. The phone rings twice, before she hears a tired yet rough masculine voice on the other end of the line.
Woman: "Hey, it’s Huntress. He said he'd do it."
Listening to the voice, she turns her own body, before beginning to saunter back in the direction she came from. Her hips swaying each time her feet connect with the grass.
Woman: "Don't worry. Not a soul will know... I'll make sure of that myself."
Her steps measured, she slows her pace to a more leisurely level as the voice responds to her words, causing her to grit her teeth together gently.
Woman: "I trust him. I don't think he'll betray us. At least, he won't if he knows what's good for him."
She then looks out at the parkland surrounding her, slightly moving her phone away from her ear.
Woman: "I'll meet you there. Bye."
Hanging up, she puts the phone in her pocket as she continues her walk through the night...
.::. The Scarlet Book - 001 - A New Hunting Ground
The room is dimly lit by a singular lightbulb affixed to the ceiling, though it can be made out that it is an office. The floor has scarlet carpet lining it, there are jet black venetian blinds pulled down to block anyone outside from peering into the window that is behind and to the right of the oaken table at the back of the office, or even into the office itself as well as pieces of papers and manila folders strewn across the table and a computer set up on the right hand side of said table. In front of and behind the table, there are two jet black leather cushioned chairs. Both of which are currently occupied. The one behind the table by a man who appears to be in his early to mid forties with raven black hair and wearing a black suit with a navy blue tie, black pants and black loafers. The one in front of the table, is occupied by a woman in her early twenties with scarlet red hair, a black t-shirt, denim jeans and black knee-high matte boots. The man has a stoic expression on his face, as he glances down at the paper that is in front of him. Raising his eyebrows, he looks up at the female, a slight frown appearing between his eyes.
Man: "This is Christine's information, correct?"
Woman: "That's what he sent to me this morning. Said it should be accurate."
The man scowls as he deepens his look at the woman.
Man: "How do we know he isn't lying to us? He could be working for the feds or even a rival organization."
Woman: "I trust that he isn't. Why would he do this if he was?"
Man: "People have strange motivations in this business, Huntress. We have to remain vigilant at all times and make sure we don't let our guard down. No matter who we think we can trust. If you're sure he isn't... I'll take your word on it, though." He then smiles at her. You haven't let me down yet."
Her body relaxing a bit, the woman who goes by the name Huntress nods
"Huntress": "I try not to."
Lowering his head, the man's pupils dilate as he scans through the information a second time as she sits there. Waiting for instruction on what she should do, or where she should go next. Upon reading the final words again, the man looks back up, noticing Huntress still attentively sitting there.
Man: "You can leave, though Sapphire wants to see you before you head back home. Said something about a contract she wants you to sign."
"Huntress": "Okay. I'll swing by and see what she wants now then. Was going to head home after this meeting anyway."
Standing up, Huntress nods her head in a courteous manner before making her way around the left side of the chair, hips swaying as the man slides the paper to the right side of the table, before looking across at one of the manila folders that is just sitting in front of his computer. Swinging open the door, Huntress leaves the office, closing the door behind herself before she turns right and saunters down the empty hallway as she surveys the area, ensuring that there is nobody coming out of any of the rooms she passes. Lining the walls of the hallway, are various pictures of various people who have been and gone over the years, as well as some miscellaneous pictures of city skylines and other geographical landmarks, though she pays no mind to them. Reaching a coffee-brown painted door with a silver plaque that has "Sapphire" engraved into it, positioned about nine inches from the top of the door, the operative turns her body before placing her left hand on the cold brass handle and uses her right hand to gently knock on the door twice.
Woman: "Come in."
Turning the handle clockwise, she swings open the door, seeing Sapphire sitting on a slate colored swivel chair, behind her Victorian era inspired mahogany table and typing on her computer that is positioned about three inches to the left of center. Surrounding it are two stacks of manilla folders, each one color-coded depending on what task it is for, or even the person that it is supposed to be delivered to. Looking up, Sapphire slightly smiles upon seeing Huntress, who calmly walks over to the table, closing the door behind her.
"Huntress": "Hey. 'Il capo' said you wanted to see me. Something about a contract."
The woman, who appears to be in her early thirties with golden blonde hair and known by her code name of 'Sapphire" nods, as she pulls out a scarlet colored manila folder that had been second from the top of the right sided stack in a single; fluid motion as the folder above it causes a gentle thud to be heard as it drops atop the folder underneath it before placing it on the table in front of her visitor and work colleague.
"Sapphire": "Ah, yes. This just came in last night. They said it was a contract for a promotion called IIW."
"Huntress": "So, they got the tapes then?"
"Sapphire": "Yeah. They seemed extremely interested in what they saw, even with your... 'work' with us. Said they wanted you to fly over there and do all the medical screens and tests within the next week."
"Huntress": "Anything else they want?"
Sapphire cautiously shakes her head, as she feels the deep, intimidating glare she is receiving from her colleague. Her eyebrows begin to pull themselves together, her glance darts left and right around Huntress, but not directly at her. Staring down at the seated Sapphire, the younger woman's glare turns cold and lifeless, as if she was peering deep into the soul of the secretary, trying to uncover any ulterior motivations she may be hiding.
"Sapphire": "No. They just said they'll call if they need anything else from you."
Nodding, the scarlet haired bombshell's stare turns more friendly, causing Sapphire to once again make eye contact with her, Her eyes begin to bulge as she gives her a shaky smile as she opens the folder and turns it so that the contract is now facing the soon-to-be wrestler, should she sign her name on the dotted line.
"Sapphire": "I had the legal team look over it earlier. They said all looks good on their end, though you might want to look it over for yourself."
Nodding, the Huntress lowers her head, slightly bending over as she scours through the contract, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows; her eyes narrowing. Her eyes darting from right to left, she makes sure to read each and every word that has been typed out as Sapphire turns the chair and resumes typing on her computer. Reaching the bottom of the document, Huntress reaches with her left hand, clasping a black pen that is laying on the table, gently tossing it over to her right, before signing her name in the box with 'Signature' written above it.
"Huntress": "All good here too."
Sapphire turns her head to glance at Huntress, who is now standing vertical again and has a weary but gentle smile across her face. Glancing downward, Sapphire notices the signature on the contract is not Huntress, but instead her government name. Zoe Tomlinson, causing her to slightly raise her left eyebrow as she looks at Huntress, conflict written across her face.
"Sapphire": "I'll send it through to them." She then extends her left hand over; places her hand atop the paper before bringing it closer to her and whispering "I hope you made the right choice."
"Huntress": "Let me know if you need anything else. You know my number."
"Sapphire": "Regular or burner?"
Huntress raises her right eyebrow as she glances at Sapphire following the inquiry.
"Huntress": "Regular"
Sapphire gives her a gentle nod in acknowledgement as Huntress turns her body around and begins to walk off, whilst the blonde secretary finds her gaze lowering toward the woman's well formed legs and buttocks, a sly smirk crossing her lips. There's a certain alluring sensation that rises whenever the scarlet haired operative walks, that always causes her body to tingle. Even if she is happily married to her husband. Reaching the door, Huntress, none the wiser to Sapphire's fixated gaze, places her right hand on the handle once more, turning it clockwise before swinging the door inward and making her way into the hallway, closing the door behind her as Sapphire returns to facing her computer screen.
Walking down the hall again, Huntress begins to glance at some of the pictures that catch her eye. One in particular on the right hand side wall about seven feet in front of where she is standing and of two people. A man and a woman, both appearing to be in their late teens and with Intratec TEC-22 rifles in holsters attached to the right side of their jeans as they look out at the street ahead of them.
"Huntress": "Moscow..." She whispers, thinking back to when this picture was taken. It is her and a fellow operative, known as 'Sparrow' that are pictured. "Mikhail Kuznetsov..."
The name of the target for that mission causes a stern look to cross her face as she fixates her gaze on the picture. Her breathing slowing down, she takes three steps toward it, her eyes narrowing as she does.
"Huntress": "We did what we had to that night. We knew that people were likely going to be slain in the line of fire..." Her tone is a reflective one, the young assassin and operative sighs, her eyes slightly glazing over. "It's part of our job. It's either they die or we do... That is what people don't realize about the heat of the moment, when you only have a split second to make a choice."
Pondering her own whispered words, she tilts her head to survey the hall; making sure that nobody is secretly watching her reflect upon that night in Moscow back in July of 2019. Seeing no indications that there is anyone in the vicinity, she turns her attention back to the picture, allowing her mind to drift back to the events of that night. To the actions she took before calmly stating.
"Huntress": "When it truly becomes a matter of life and death. We all think that we know how we would handle it. We all believe that we would be able to ensure that there are no casualties left in our wake, but in reality... " She pauses, her voice trailing off. "We don't. It's a weight that we must bear on our shoulders, and one that I accepted the moment I flew out. I would do the same thing all over again if I was able to turn back time."
Turning her body so that she is facing north, she begins to walk away from the picture, even as her head slightly lowers and she feels her mind becoming constricted by the memories that have re-awoken inside of her. The torment that she had faced that night in particular. The nightmares she has had ever since manifesting themselves within her mind once more... only this time, it is daytime. Her facial muscles tensing, she inhales, then exhales deeply whilst slowing her previous stroll to a more leisurely pace. Turning her body to the left, she rounds the nearest corner, raising her head as she notices the glowing green sign with white "Exit" text above the oak door about twelve feet ahead of her. Another deep inhale and exhale follows, as the skin around her eyes bunch up and her jaw clenches, revealing the pain and agony that the mere sight of the picture had inflicted upon her. She realizes, however, that she brought it all upon herself, the moment it caught her eye.
"Huntress": "I hold no regrets about what happened. Just that it had to come down to that point. That it was either him or me,"
Softly stating that she reaches the door, she rests her hand atop the cold stainless steel handle, a relaxed sigh leaving her lips as her facial muscles begin to relax and her expression returns to its usual, stoic state. Turning the handle clockwise, she pushes the door open and walks out of the building, the frigid air causing the hairs on her arm to rise and small goosebumps to appear down them as she closes the door behind her, sauntering in the direction of the communal parking lot. Her boots pounding against the gravel and asphalt covered ground, the soon-to-be IIW hire's shoulders rise and fall with each step that she takes. Each breath that leaves her mouth causes clouds of smoke to float into the air from the woman known to some as "The Crimson Phoenix" and to others as "The Moonlight Assassin" while she continues to stare straight ahead. Paying no mind to the whistling sound of tree branches swaying in the breeze that surrounds her.
"Huntress": "Now, the hunt truly begins again... A new battleground. A new place to call home and take down those who see fit to walk into the lair of the Huntress, A dominion to call my own."
As those words float off into the atmosphere, she reaches the car park, her car parked on the right hand side boundary of it. The hood over the top of the concrete gutter below as the water on the top of the 2019 model Chevrolet Corvette causes the Amethyst paint to glisten. Walking calmly over to the driver's side door, she reaches into her right jeans pocket; extracts the key before pressing the largest button on them, causing a click to be heard as she opens the door.
"Huntress": "Soon, they will know that the Huntress always gets her target. There is no way to avoid it. All you can do, is wait for your time to come."
Slipping her body into the car, she places her keys into the ignition then firmly closes the door. Preparing to head home and plan out her next steps. Figure out just how she plans on making her presence known to her new employers.
,::, 12.30.21 - Zoe "Huntress" Tomlinson - Storytime. .::.
"You may not know who I am right now, but you soon will. This may be a new battlefield, a promotion that I know nothing about, but I can promise you right now, it will become my domain. It will become the next place that I rule over, just as the IAWA and ECWA were before they closed their doors, leaving me on the curb. Without a place that I could truly call home. The day they informed us that they were closing their doors, it cut deep, I'm not going to lie.
Imagine being a twenty-one year old who has wanted to do this her entire life. A young woman who had been given a chance. An opportunity to take her first steps in an industry that many people have described will eat you alive. An industry that has seen many people, some with even more credentials than her, drown within the waters of, only to watch that opportunity be taken away from her. To become helpless as the company that had made her feel like she was at home, became nothing more than a memory.
To some, they would see it as a sign. A message for them to walk away. To try and find a new dream for them to pursue, because it just wasn't meant to be for them. For the last three months, that has been me. Floating around, trying to find a space that she can slot into. A company that can give her the feeling that she craves. The sensation that grows inside of her every time she watches an opponent's life drain from their eyes. Every time she hears the thudding sound of the referee's hand connecting with the canvas for the third and final time, or the screams of her opponents before their own hand slaps against the mat for the final time.
It left a void. One that simply could not be filled with a gun and covert missions. A lust that was not satiated by watching bodies fall at her hands. Of doing what she needed to in order to survive. No matter how many people she had slain, all in the name of completing her task. It could not replace the feeling she felt when she stepped into the ring. When she was able to justify the bodies being left in her wake. The carnage that she would bring about.
It is why she has decided to find a place where she can feel whole again. A place where she can come in and rediscover that feeling and satiate the hunger that burns inside of her. Where she does not need to worry about any inhibitions that may fester within her mind. Where she does not need to look over her shoulder, lest the authorities be breathing down her neck. Trying to find anything to use against her, should they find out about what she has done. The blood that she has on her hands, even at her tender age, even if she has convinced herself that what she is doing is right. That it was what needed to be done. That she had merely done what they had commanded her to. Nothing more; nothing less.
She has found that place now. A place that has opened their doors to her and wish for her to become one of them. To harness the rage. The anger that resides within her and to make herself at home, just as she had done within both the IAWA and ECWA. They have presented her with the chance to obtain that feeling she eternally craves. The chance to sink her talons into the flesh of an opponent and pick them apart, limb by limb; leave them laying on the mat. Blood oozing from their bodies and seeping into the mat, all at her hands.
Even if it means that people may die in the middle of the ring, simply to quench her lust. Her desire to inflict agony upon those who cross her path. Her hunger for fresh victims to add to her little scarlet book of those who stood opposite her, and had no choice but to look into her eyes. No other option but to face the reality of the situation they had found themselves trapped within. This girl, this woman is more dangerous than you could ever realize. She is not afraid to have blood on her hands, if it means she obtains what she desires. If it is what will enable her to grasp everything that she cherishes. So, who is this girl? This woman that is telling this story?
I am her and She is me[. My name is Zoe Tomlinson, and this story is my own. It is a story that I have lived and a story that shall be told within my little scarlet book. A book which will have all of your names written within, ready to be crossed off when we step into the ring with one another. The place that I will be calling home? That is the IIW. Soon, you will see why the Huntress always gets what she desires. No matter who stands in her way. I hope you are ready, because ultimately it will not matter who you are. What you believe, or what you desire when you are across the ring from somebody who lives for this sport. Who craves the screams of their opponents as they become putty in her hands. Unable to resist the allure. The temptation of finding out what happens when you step into the ring with someone who has seen more than you could even imagine. Who has killed people to try and feed her desire for blood. Her lust for pain. You will find out the moment I step into that ring for the first time. It will be then, that everything will come to life. When it will all be before your very eyes.
.::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::.
Zoe sits on top of a snow-white three seated Allform monitor sofa, cross-legged and with her lands resting gently on her lap. There's an oaken coffee table positioned three and a half feet in front of her, with a cream colored and ornately designed ceramic vase in the middle of it. Within the vase are ten roses. Each of them healthy and appearing to have been recently gathered, their aroma floating through the air and into the Huntress's nostrils each time she takes a whiff. The flooring is a plush violet carpet, with a seafoam green rug placed under the table.
It is then that footsteps can be heard coming from outside of the room, seemingly from weighted boots, as loud thuds can be heard with each step that whoever they belong to takes. Steps that could easily be mistaken for an earthquake. Turning her head in the direction of the doorway, a slight smirk crosses the twenty-one year old's face as she notices a man appearing to be in his early-to-mid twenties and wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and the weighted chocolate brown leather boots.
"Huntress": "You make it here okay?"
Man: "Yeah, thanks to my GPS."
Zoe then laughs, as he stares at her, taking a step into the lounge, a stoic expression across his face.
Man: "Falcon sent through the supplies last night and Tracer managed to find their hideout."
Nodding, Huntress maintains her eye contact as her pupils begin to slowly dilate as the man continues walking toward her, his lips slightly upturning as his own gaze fixes itself upon her.
"Huntress": "Good. I'm guessing you also told them about the rental?"
Man: "Yes. Falcon said he'll try and find a driver for us, and to meet him at the Marriott on Friday; we can talk more about it then."
"Huntress": "Same room as always?"
Man: "He didn't say, but I would say so unless he tells us otherwise."
Nodding again, Huntress makes a mental note in her head. Making sure that it goes into the "diary" section of her brain.
"Huntress": "Alright. I'll shoot him a text later to confirm then. We need to make sure this goes smoother than the last raid I did." Her statement deadpan in nature, she lets out a regretful sigh. "Huntress": "I'm surprised boss even allowed us to do this, considering how badly we blundered it"
The man, who appears to remember the raid she is referring to, replies in a defensive tone.
Man: "That wasn't my fault. You were the one who told us to go in there when the police were waiting. I tried to tell you we shouldn't have gone in."
Huntress snorts, a soft laugh floating from her lips as she simply glares into his eyes, causing him to take a step back. Not wanting to poke the bear any more than he has to this point, knowing what Huntress can do when she is angry. Though she calmly remarks.
"Huntress": "It wasn't my call."
Lowering her head, she looks at her hands, unclasping them before gently positioning them on top of her thighs as a relaxed exhale leaves her lips as she looks back up at the man.
"Huntress": "It was Tracer's, though it's for the best that we just leave it in the past and think about how we're going to get this raid right."
Man: "Agree. We were lucky last time." He then feels a small flicker inside of his brain. "This time, we may not be. Let's not let it get to that point though."
"Huntress": "Agreed. I doubt 'il Capo' will be so forgiving if we mess this one up. Especially with how close we are to infiltrating their core and positioning ourselves for the drop. We can ill-afford to let anything jeopardize that."
Her tone authoritative, the man's pupils dilate as he nods in response as she softens her tone for her next remark.
"Huntress": "You still have Dragan's number, right? Might want to read him into this too."
Man: "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I still have it somewhere at home."
"Huntress": "I'll leave that to you then. I have other things to deal with and need to make sure everything's sorted for my flight." She then pauses, before pursing her lips."Though I'm sure you and Tracer can handle things without me, 'Titan'."
The man, now revealed to be the operative known as "Titan", blankly stares forward. As if he hadn't paid any attention to what the leader of this impending operation was stating, though he inquires calmly.
"Titan": "You talking about the IIW? I heard from Sapphire earlier that you were signing with them."
"Huntress": "She told you? Yes, that's what I meant... still contact me with the information about the raid as planned, but you're second in command. Tell them to talk to you if they need anything."
His jaw beginning to lift, Titan gently chews on his bottom lip, appearing to be deep in thought about something. Turning her head slightly in his direction, Huntress's eyebrows raise.
"Huntress": "Everything okay?."
Snapping out of his trance-like state, he firmly replies.
"Titan": "Yes. Was just thinking..."
"Huntress": "About what?"
Not saying a word, Titan turns his back to her, beginning to slowly make his way toward the hallway, intending to leave and head somewhere more private. His face begins to bunch up as creases appear around his eyes, making it evident that whatever he is thinking about is disturbing him deeply enough to consider bringing this meeting to an abrupt end.
"Huntress": "Titan...." She calls out, in the hopes that it will obtain his attention. "You sure everything's okay?"
Silence as he turns around the corner and begins to stroll toward the doorway. His head slightly lowered as his breathing began to stagger. Uncrossing her legs, Huntress reaches into the left pocket of her jeans and pulls out her burner phone, scrolling through the contacts for a specific number, before pressing "call"; raising the phone to her ear, her lips and cheeks both rising as agony begins to become etched upon her own face.
"Huntress": "Hey Tracer. It's Huntress."
She listens for a response, leaning back as she does.
"Huntress": "It's Titan. He simply left while we were talking about the raid."
Pursing her lips, she extends her legs, gently placing them atop the carpet as the sound of her front door creaking open and Titan walking out and onto her porch, before quietly closing the door behind him can be heard.
"Huntress": "I'll try and talk to him later, but it was when I asked him to contract Dragan."
The voice on the other end getting louder and more scornful, Huntress recoils back, both eyebrows rising and an almost frightened expression appearing across her face. Her heart rate begins to rise, as if it were playing the drums inside of her chest before the muscles in her chest begin to tense up and her jaw trembles.
"Huntress": "Wait... he did?" She weakly states, taking a few sharp breaths, though each one feels as if a knife was being driven into her body. "Huntress": "I didn't know..."
Her tone soft and apologetic in nature, she lowered her head in shame that she had not known about that piece of information, and how her request may have adversely affected Titan. Wriggling her body from side to side slowly, she slides back so that she is resting against the back cushion of the couch.
"Huntress": "I'll let him know you'll do it and not to worry about it. Thanks"
Relief begins to wash over the scarlet haired woman's face. She has managed to find a way to avert the crisis... at least for now. Her body begins to relax as another breath leaves her lips. This one is more relaxed and partially sigh-like in nature.
"Huntress": "Alright, I'll let you go then. Should probably get back to packing myself. I'll call you tonight"
Slowly pulling the phone away from her ear, she brings it down so that it is above her lap before hanging up, then sliding it back into her pocket. Tilting her head up to face the ceiling, she closes her eyes, attempting to cleanse her mind and free herself from everything. Just drift away into a state of psychological bliss.
"Huntress": "There's no room for error with either the raid or the IIW. If I want to do this, then I must do it right."
Her words soft, she rests her head at the top of the couch's cushion, her hair flowing down the back of the couch whilst the muscles in her neck tense up, pressing against her shoulders.
"Huntress": "There's no turning back now..."
With those words, her mind begins to slowly shut off, sending her slowly into a state of dreaming, just as she desires.
.::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::. .::.
:"Zoe?"
An unknown, feminine voice of somebody who appears to be in their early twenties with golden blonde hair asks this, as they stand in front of Zoe, wearing a khaki shirt, black Lycra tights and dark blue Converse sneakers. Staring down at the sleeping Huntress, they extend their right hand out, using it to slightly push the right shoulder of their colleague, causing her to slightly stir and her eyes to slowly open.
"Huntress": "W... Who is it?."
Yawning, her words come out in a slurred manner as the woman pulls her hand back, softly chuckling as she warmly smiles down at the still drowsy operative/wrestler. Not all that bothered about disrupting said sleep.
Woman: "It's Macy. Did you forget? You were supposed to have come to mine an hour ago."
"Huntress": "I was? I thought that was tomorrow."
Macy lets out another laugh as Zoe tilts her head forward, her eyes bloodshot and her facial muscles sagging due to tiredness.
Macy: "No, silly. I said today at five. You know I'm heading to my Moms for New Year's tomorrow, and that we needed to get this done tonight. I even told Sapphire to make sure you knew before you left."
"Huntress": "Oh, right. Sorry, that had slipped my mind, even though I even wrote it down on the calendar and made a note of it before I went in this morning," She remarks, having remembered what Macy is referring to, even if she had fallen asleep and forgotten to set her phone's alarm to wake her up. "Did you manage to get everything?"
Macy: "Thought that it may have. It's why I came over." She remarks, extracting a shiny silver key from the right pocket of her jeans, before putting it back in. "Also, yes. I made sure to swing by the warehouse and pick everything up. It's at my house, but I can bring it over later if you want."
Huntress simply nods, gently laughing as she already knew Macy had a key to the house. Otherwise, the shrill of her alarm would have woken her up before Macy even entered. Stepping to the right, Macy then turns around and sits down on the couch next to her friend/confidant as she maintains her gentle gaze. Another yawn leaves the still-awakening Huntress, before she blinks whilst turning her head to face the now seated Macy. Raising her right hand, she uses it to gently flick her hair back and at least try not to look like she has just gotten out of bed.
Macy: "So, I heard about you signing with the IIW. You think you can take over there like you did the IAWA and ECWA?"
"Huntress": "Of course, You really think I would have signed with them if I didn't think I could take over? If I didn't believe I would be able to walk in there and take over from day one?" She softly laughs. "You know me better than that Mace. When I step between those ropes, the Huntress always"tears apart her prey. Smiling as their flesh is ripped from their bones and they are nothing more than a carcass. A piece of meat, to be discarded like those I have in the past."
Pausing, she gently bits her bottom lip as her eyes start to narrow. Picking up on the rare nervous moment, Macy shoots her a reassuring smile, realizing that she wasn't just referring to the wrestling side of her life when she stated the last portion of her remark, but rather, the body count that she has acquired in recent years in her... other activities. The activities that have been... morally dubious, yet are her primary means of survival. Her main method of ensuring that she has a sense of financial stability. That is the conflict that is being showcased within her facial expression.
Macy: "It's getting to you, isn't it?"
Zoe simply sighs in a manner that essentially confirms that it is.
"Huntress": "Yeah... I love doing it. I love the thrill, but sometimes... I just don't know. What if we get caught? What if we fail? We almost did get caught when we blew that raid a few months ago, but what if there isn't an almost? Do I really want to risk it all, just for the rush of adrenaline?"
Hearing her friend question herself. Questioning the morals she has upheld ever since she was first inducted into the organization, Mazy wraps her left arm around the back of Zoe, pulling her in for an embrace.
"Huntress": "I mean, I knew this going in. I knew from my first day that there was a chance that we may be caught, but I always felt that we were simply doing what's right. That what we were doing was what was needed to clean up the world. That it was a way for me to supplement my wrestling. Don't get me wrong, I still love the work, but just afraid it will ultimately catch up to me. "
Macy: "Just try and focus on what you feel is right. Don't feel like you have to do something you don't want to, just because it's what they want."
"Huntress": "I am " She then sighs as she wraps her arms around Macy's body, gently resting her hand atop her right shoulder. "I guess I'm just thinking too much about everything."
Running her hand down Zoe's back, Macy slightly leans back so that she can make eye contact with Huntress, as a grimace appears across the latter's sullen face. Gazing upward, Zoe curls her lips into a gentle, thankful smile before she leans back, breaking away from the hug and dropping her hands back on her lap as Mazy brings her arms down by her side, resting them gently atop the couch.
"Huntress": "Thank you..."
Whispering this gently, Macy responds by simply flashing a smile and looking deeper into Zoe's eyes.
Macy: "You're welcome. I'm always here if you need to talk."
"Huntress": "I know."
Sighing, Huntress gently leans back against the couch, her eyes beginning to moisten as she looks at her closest friend and confidant, who she has known since they were four.
Macy: "So, when do you leave for IIW?"
Breaking the silence that had begun to build, Mazy inquires this in a relaxed tone, as Zoe simply lets out a gentle breath before remarking.
"Huntress": "Sunday night at eight. They want me there on Monday for medical stuff and to sign the official documents"
Macy: "That sounds awesome. Do you know who your first match will be against?"
Zoe shakes her head gently, responding.
"Huntress": "Not yet. All they told me was that they would disclose that once all the medical stuff was done. Plus, I still have the raid we're doing to figure out first, so I'm not entirely focused on that."
Through narrowed eyes, Macy nods before slightly glancing down at her watch, then back up at Zoe.
Macy: "So, you're still going through with it?"
"Huntress": "Yeah."
Macy: "If that's what you want to do, then do it." Her voice beginning to drift off, she gently pushes down on her cushion, rising up. "I just don't want you to feel like they're forcing you to keep doing this. That you're being forced to play their game."
Zoe scowls as she purses her lips.
"Huntress": "Trust me, they're not. I'm doing this because it is what I want to do, I wouldn't have joined them if I felt like they were forcing me to become something I'm not."
Her inflection calm yet slightly strained, she watches as Macy lets out a gentle sigh of her own, her shoulders slightly slumping as it leaves her mouth.
"Huntress": "You remember how I was when we worked in the restaurant. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to, just like I wouldn't have signed with the IIW if it wasn't the place I feel like I can be home."
Macy: "Yeah, I do. I still remember the day you quit there." She softly laughs, as she recalls it in her head. "I never knew you could be that harsh before I heard you telling Dominic how you weren't going to see him tomorrow. Or ever again."
"Huntress": "Maybe I was a little too harsh on him, but I was done with their bullshit. I was done with feeling like a piece of meat and needed to get out of there before I truly went insane."
She laughs, as Macy glances down at her watch once more, then back at her scarlet haired best friend as she takes a few short steps backward.
Macy: "True. Anyway, I got to go sadly. Promised Mike that I would drop by his place before I leave in the morning, then see a movie with Taylor. I'll drop off the stuff for you tonight though at about eleven."
"Huntress": "Aww, okay babe." She then smiles, cutely waving Macy off as she turns. "I'll leave the garage open if you could just leave the stuff there for me."
Macy: "Alright. Will do." Turning her head over her right shoulder, she returns the wave as she makes her way across the lounge. "I'll text you in the morning too. Bye"
"Huntress": "Alright. Bye."
Macy then turns into the hallway as Zoe lets out another gentle breath, reclining in the chair once more as she begins to think about her career. Both inside and outside of the ring and where it will lead her. The doors that are about to open up and the tasks she must complete going forward.