WHO: Hit-Girl, a small group of thugs, and YOU? WHAT: Some criminal douches need their asses kicked. WHEN: Late in the evening. WHERE: Downtown, Lawrence. RATING: Mature: for blood, violence, and Hit-Girl's potty mouth.
It was always in some dark, quiet, out of the way corner where big, greasy, self-absorbed, good for nothin' scumbags made their move. Never mind the fact that people who took to walking into dark, quiet, out of the way corners of the city that were popularly known for Big and Bad things were completely and totally fucking stupid and probably deserved what they had coming to them for being slow enough to take to adventuring in places like that in the dead of night in the first place - though really, to be fair, those idiots who thought that they could keep getting away with committing crimes in the exact same places night after night without someone coming along and screwing them over was equally as stupid, if not even more so.
That was partly why, seventy-five percent of the time, when Hit-Girl was looking for her targets, they were usually very easy to find. Surprisingly so, in fact, which made her wonder exactly why it was so difficult for their cops to take care of them in the first place.
Not all cops are good, baby doll, a voice pointedly reminded her. Mindy swallowed hard, tightened her mask, and leaned over the ledge of the roof she was currently crouching on. Downtown Lawrence was a fairly busy crime scene for the local, now more so than ever with whispers of the end drifting through the wind. People were getting reckless. Crazy. Those two things went hand in hand with stupid, which was exactly why Hit-Girl was here in the first place. Gangs, thriving on drug trade, rape, robbery, and murder were infesting the streets, happily taking from lives everywhere and spreading their disease in every direction. Big Daddy would have wanted Hit-Girl here tonight. He would have wanted her to keep on with everything that he had taught her, if only to prevent more people from slipping down that same fucked up slope that the rest of the Macready family had fallen victim to.
Her family.
"- you still ain't paid up, Nicky. Boss don't like it when people don't pay up."
Showtime.
A scuffle. Fists flying. The sound of a body hitting the ground, faintly standing out among the chuckles and screams that only grew louder and louder as the tiny vigilante jumped from rooftop to rooftop, quickly and carefully approaching the predicted scene in it's predicted place (dark corner, alleyway, etc. and so on - surprise, surprise) without a single person turning a head her way. No one even so much as blinked as she dropped into the alleyway behind them, their backs turned and focused on nothing and no one but the man they were beating into the ground. Perfect.
Reaching around her waist, Mindy unlatched the rope that she'd wound up carefully, the knife at it's end glinting in the shadows long enough for at least one of the six grungy looking men to turn his head her way. The knife shot out before he could say a word, tearing straight through his neck and latching on, giving Hit-Girl the perfect opportunity to yank his writhing body from the center of the dogpile and onto the alley floor. Blood spurted out onto the pavement, but Hit-Girl didn't linger long enough to watch the dark pool of red form around the man's neck. She was already moving through the shadows once again, blood soaked knife and rope clutched tightly in her small hands with a smug air of accomplishment filling her up as the other thugs reached for their weapons and began to shoot.