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Jan. 18th, 2008



Marie was alone in the house.

As well she should be, considering she told TC and Jody to not come back without Jesse, the girl, and the great grandchild. Although, the length of time they'd been away was a little bit worrying. It didn't usually take them so long to do her bidding. She'd forgive them just this once, becuase they were in a new city, and Jesse and the little whore could be anywhere. And they might be seperate from each other, just because of this very thing. Jesse wasn't a completely stupid boy.

After the incident with the swamp nigger troupe, Marie had been keeping her eyes wide open, and spent most of the day watching out the windows. She'd also taken to keeping a shot gun near the door, just so she could wheel out onto the porch and shoot. And of course, she'd shoot without warning.

She really wanted to shoot one of them.

It didn't occur to her that firing a shotgun at her age and in her condition might do some serious damage. That wasn't the point. The point was playing Decapitate The Negros.

There had been no further sign of them, however. Which meant that they were either lost and being mugged in the city itself, or they'd realized they were in the wrong place, and trounced off to find themselves a new swamp to fester in.

Marie hoped for the former. It was funnier to her.

She sat now upstairs in her room. A large bible on her lap. Only one lamp on, over her shoulder, so she could read.

2007-01-15 09:17 (link) DeleteFreezeScreen Select
Walking was an art in an old house where floorboards creaked. Elektra was aware of her legs to the point of feeling the blood run under the skin of her heels. Gliding through the halls in silence, cloaked by the generous amount of darkness the old woman's energy conservation provided, it was easy to be unnoticed.

The two men described to her as potential obstacles were nowhere in sight. She made it to the woman's room, her breathing inaudible, her movements unseen, and slipped inside. Shadow continued to rest around her shoulders like a worn cloak until she stepped into the edge of the lamp light.

"Marie L'Angelle," Elektra said, as if to confirm what she already knew. Elektra took out her katana.

Marie looked up, irritated, from her Good Book. Not only was somebody she didn't know in her house, they were interrupting her hour of prayer. This was not the time for shenannagans.

"Listen, you ugly nigger raggamuffin! I told you, this isn't your land. Now take your rediculous cutlary and get out. Get out. I'm not too above you to shoot you, you know!"

And then she got a better look. Just a little glimpse of skin but it was enough.

"Oh. You're white. Well. You weren't sent by the swamp negros, were you? I'll not leave my own land because a bunch of waterlogged ignorants think they were here first."

Elektra's eyes narrowed slightly as her blade tip rested against the old woman's chest. Already she knew what it would feel like to pop the katana through the rib cage and how she would make her cut.

"I'm not here for land," she said. Her lips tilted up slightly. "I'm here to kill you."

She would let the idea sink in before her blade. Jesse had wanted this to be painful, Elektra would humor a minor psychological game.

"Kill me." She said, bemused. "Kill me."

Definite indignation in the second.

"You're going to kill me, and for what purpose? To rob me? There are work hands crawling all over this land that will be more than happy to take back what you stole. So you'll have nothing. Or, perhaps T.C. will show up, and have his way."

Marie shook her head. "Either way, darling girl. I am at peace with God. He would never let something untoward happen."

Read: I have a covenant with God. I am incapable of dying.

"So take your little toys, and be gone."


All it took was slight pressure and the katana was in her chest, past it, delving into the pillow behind the old woman. Elektra couldn't help looking to the bloom of red that came from where she'd pierced her target. This was what she was good at, the only thing she always did right...

"A katana." Elektra tilted her head to the side and twisted the blade. "It is only right to know the weapon you die upon."

Her chest hurt.

Marie L'Angelle was upset and bothered by this highly undignified way of dying. She looked down at where the blade was now inside of her and then back up at the little girl who'd stabbed her.

"W-who..." it was hard to speak. Why was it hard to speak?

Marie's eyes lifted to the ceiling, but she was looking beyond that. Where was God? Where was her Savior? How could he be allowing this?

She was actually dying!

Oh, she was so angry!

"He said you trapped him in a coffin, under a lake."

Elektra ripped the blade out of the woman's chest. It wouldn't be long now. She would wait to retrieve the heart until it had stopped beating.

Blood dripped from her blade, onto the quilt. She wiped it off there, seeming to have more concern with the condition of her weapon than that of her victim. In the back of her mind, Elektra wondered why Matt had given up so easily. Fisk had been far worse than anything this woman could be. She was a nothing.

"L-ittle J-Jesse..." The hellfire rose in Marie's eyes again.

Though, when she'd uttered the sole word, she'd been trying to ask who the hell this ignorant bitch thought she was, cominginto Marie's house and doing this kind of thing to her.

But this answer was far more interesting.

Just too bad for Marie that she bled out before any other words could be uttered, or any further thoughts could be had. Likely, given the time, she would have tried to leave a revenge note for Jody.

Marie's head dropped to the side as the rest of her life faded out of her.

Elektra stepped up to the side of the bed and took out a different knife, making several quick, precise cuts before driving her hand into blood and organs. When it came back out, she had a warm heart. She tossed it up once and caught it with a small splat.

The reason she didn't laugh at Jesse's request was that she enjoyed this type of thing. She may not have been in the business of making her assassinations painful, but she'd always liked full out violence, getting her hands dirty. Feeling the blood on her hands both excited and sickened her. She liked the confusing emotions, liked being in that gray area where everything blurred into death. Elektra dropped the heart into a ziplock bag and looked over her bloody hand. She pressed her fingers together.


Elektra turned on her heel to leave the room.