Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare

Part 2 of 2: The Miscreant Rises

Dash popped another shrimp into her mouth. She admitted to be very thankful that Tiny and Brutus were accompanying her on this guard job. She figured that the chances of being sexually assaulted were drastically reduced, since she was no longer left alone with McCarther. Unless, of course, Tiny and Brutus also wanted to assault her, in which case, Dash essentially thought she would be screwed. She still had no idea where she was headed, but McCarther seemed to grow more ecstatic by the minute. Dash look out the windows, and noticed that they were heading downtown. The hour was approaching midnight, which made Dash a little concerned. She may not have known much about city life, but something had always told her never to go downtown to a crime-ridden area late at night.

"So, why are we headed downtown?" Dash asked, voicing her concern.

"You'll see," McCarther said happily. Dash rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She looked over at Tiny and Brutus.

"Hey, how you dick-munchers doing?" Dash called out.

Neither of them responded.

"Really, nothing?" Dash asked. "You aint going to say anything?"

Once again, there was no response. It was starting to become clear to Dash that neither of them were to dare say anything in front of McCarther, except for the most basic responses, perhaps, just perhaps, not wanting to lose their jobs.

"Why not?" Dash wondered aloud. "I understand it's hard to talk with so much jizz in your mouth, Tiny. Just be a man and fucking swallow already. Christ." Still, despite teases and insults to both men's pride, neither said a word. It was actually starting to annoy Dash. Half of the fun of insulting someone was watching them react. But the two guards remained emotionless, ruining Dash's mood.

"WE'RE HERE!" McCarther suddenly shouted. The limo pulled to the side of the street and parked. McCarther could barely contain his joy. The door opened, and McCarther practically bolted out of his vehicle. Dash casually followed suit, and looked around. From what she could gather, she was in a very rundown section of Philadelphia. Most buildings around her were in shambles; their roofs broken, their walls graffitied, and the windows cracked. However, the building she was standing in front of was shining bright in the night. The building was in fine condition, as many lights covered it, trying to attract as much attention as possible. A bouncer waited outside the door, underneath a large sign that said,

Ultimate Palace, Gentlemen's Club

Are you fucking kidding me? Dash thought to herself, as McCarther bounded towards the entrance. I ruined my night to guard an old horny bastard on his way to a strip joint?

Dash saw Tiny motion her forwards. Dash reluctantly sighed, and followed McCarther and the guards into the building.

Across the street, between two broken down houses, a man watched the limousine's passengers enter the strip club, while his three friends enjoyed smoking marijuana behind him.

"Damn, this shit's great," one of the men said. "How much this cost you?"

"About 70 bucks," one of the other men responded. "Cost me some motha fucking dough to get."

"Shit, you shoulda argued with the seller, dog," said the third man. "You gotta learn to handle this shit, bro." The second man, annoyed, looked back the first man.

"Yo nigga, why we even hanging out with this pasty mothafucka?" the man asked.

"Jordan here apparently has the best driving skills this side of town," the first man explained, putting the drugs back to his mouth.

"Doesn't mean the nigga can't show no respect now, 'ight?" the second man asked.

"Dude, calm yourself," Jordan said slowly. "Just let the fuckin buzz take your ass over."

"Man, you got to watch your mouth," the second man said. "Stop with all the mothafuckin language."

"I said calm down, Jerome," Jordan spoke again. "Niggas got to be cool."

"I told you before, I don't get high easy," Jerome said. In disbelief, he asked, "And what did you just say to me?"

As his two friends argued, Anwar turned to his other friend, who was still staring at the strip club.

"Yo, Benny," Anwar called out. "You want some of this shit?"

Benny sighed and turned to his other friends.

"I fucking told you already," Benny said angrily. "Stop. Getting. High. On. The. Job. We got a huge motherfuckin hit just waiting to happen." Anwar stood up, and looked around Benny to see the limousine parked nearby.

"You want to attack the nigga that owns that?" Anwar asked in disbelief. "Don't you know the fucking rules, dog? We try taking too much money, and the Smiling Dragons will be all over our ass."

"Haven't you heard?" Benny said. "Word is that Discord's been taken down. Huge police operation. You know my cousin, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, I know that little nigga," Anwar said. "He's in Discord's crew, right?"

"Yeah, that's the point, man," Benny said. "He said he hasn't heard from Discord in two weeks. And you already know about that sting back on the fourth of October."

"Oh, shit," Anwar said, understanding Benny's point. "So, it's just us two bit thugs now, aint it?"

"Fuck yeah," Benny said. "Now, it's time for us to rise to the top. And to start it off, let's break that elderly mothafucka's legs and see what he's got on 'im."

As the plan of the four gangsters came to fruition, across the street, Dash found herself in the one place she'd never imagined to be: guarding an old business man in a strip club. Dash had a very hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. Everything was cast in a purple glow, in order to, she supposed, enhance the mood. To her right, Dash saw a brightly lit bar, where a topless woman was handing out cold beers to already drunken men. To the left, Dash saw two stripper poles, one of which was occupied by some blonde woman, that might have looked attractive in the proper lighting. In fact, all of the women that Dash saw around her could have been moderately pretty, if they hadn't ruined their lives and bodies with extreme sex and drugs.

McCarther suddenly yelled with glee, and ran over to one of the strippers, who had her arms open, waiting for him. She was a short Asian woman, wearing a more degrading form of a nurse's outfit. She too, under comparison with most other girls in the locale, was somewhat pretty, although Dash could clearly see the scars on her stomach from whatever surgeries she had had in the past. McCarther and the woman waltzed back to the guards.

"Hey toots," McCarther said, making Dash feel ill inside. "This is Lucy Mai. She's my favorite girl in the whole world."

"Hello," Lucy Mai said. It was quite clear to Dash that Lucy didn't speak much English in her spare time.

"Me and Lucy are going to… relax here for a while; catch up on some things. You stay put out here with Tiny and Brutus. I don't care what you do. Watch the show, relax a little. Bye now!" McCarther and Lucy Mai walked away into a private room, where another bouncer guarded the door. Tiny and Brutus shrugged and walked over to a table, taking a seat. Dash honestly didn't know what to do. She never thought she was going to be left alone in a strip club before.

Suddenly, she saw a woman walking up to her. The woman was black, dressed in red lingerie, which was meant to show off her breast implants.

"Hey, baby," the stripper called out to Dash. Dash looked puzzled as the woman stood next to her, hands on her hips. "Is there anything I can do for you, girl?"

"Um… no?" Dash said confused.

"Don't worry, darling," the stripper said. "I don't mind that you're a girl. I can do anything for the right price." Dash smirked.

"You know," Dash started to say, trying to get the woman as far away from her as possible. "I don't know why, but something tells me that you clearly don't hump the air as well as you hump every other guy in town. That must be what your manager thinks too, since you don't make nearly enough money to fully support your five incest-bred kids and pump up your tits with enough silicon to stuff the stomach of an elephant, so as to distract everyone from realizing what a failure you are as both a mother and a human being. It's either that, or the fact that your face looks like someone beat a labia up with a baseball bat, and then charred the remains. So, why don't you take your plastic filled body, your saggy ass, and your idiotic complex, and go back to fucking that big metal pole to satisfy the empty feeling inside knowing that you will never rise out of the trash-filled whorehouse, that is, in fact, your pathetic fucking life?"

The woman gasped. At first, she was rather angry, but after a few moments, the stripper slowly started to cry. She covered her face with he hands, and then ran to a private backroom. Several other strippers who saw the event followed her, as Dash leaned back against the nearby wall and laughed to herself.

Oh, strippers, Dash thought to herself. What is there not to make fun of? I think I might be able to make this trip enjoyable, after all.

__________

Melanie Moon missed.

Melanie Moon, the greatest assassin in the world, missed a target.

Melanie Moon, the Living Nightmare, the woman who had terrified nations, who had executed over 150 targets, who was the most accurate sniper in the world, had fired at a target, and missed.

Moon trembled, uncontrollably. It was something that she had never experienced before. She lied down at her vantage point on the roof. Her custom weapon was pointed at the side entrance of the morgue across the street. Moon didn't move; she was too stunned to do anything. She prided herself on her unnatural efficiency to kill. Her accuracy was unmatched. The only reason she was called onto work for The Unknown was for the chance to execute anyone who stood in the way. And yet, when it came down to do her job, she had failed.

Moon gritted her teeth together. She told herself to stay calm. The targets would be eliminated. All she had to do was focus. Moon steadied herself, and looked back through the scope of her gun. The gray door to the morgue remained shut. Moon waited. Sure enough, the door slowly started to creak open. The halls were dark, and Moon couldn't see more than a meter past the door from her current vantage point. She continued to wait.

Then, as Moon expected, something briefly moved from behind the door. She couldn't see many details, but she it knew that it was flesh, and that was enough for her.

The flesh had barely been out of cover for half of a second, before a shot ripped through the air, tearing through the piece of meat, causing it to fly apart.

"Shit!" AJ yelled, shutting the door again.

Back inside the morgue, most of the girls were huddled deep inside the halls. AJ had positioned herself behind the door. She was attempting to see if Moon was still present by holding the piece of Hammonick's skull out of cover. Unfortunately, now the girls found themselves facing two unpleasant truths. Not only did they no longer have any evidence tying to the killer, but the same killer was waiting to execute them, and whoever it was, they were very fast with being able to do it.

"Tara, ya gotta plan, right?" AJ asked, hopefully. Tara shook her head.

"Not really," Tara said somberly. "If we open that door, Moon will shoot us down. We need to get to the van; we'll never make it far on foot."

"Tara, why are you certain that Moon is shooting at us?" Rachel asked. "We don't know who it is, yet. Remember?"

"I would like to think that," Tara said. "But… I don't know…"

"Well, duh," Pinky suddenly interjected. "Of course it's Moon."

"How do you know?" Rachel asked. Pinky pointed to the ground.

"The bullet she fired is right there, isn't it?" Pinky stated. With realization, the girls looked to where Pinky was pointing, as AJ shined her flashlight upon the spot. Sure enough, the impact from the bullet had embedded itself into the ground, leaving behind the image of a raven's skeleton.

"I…I completely forgot about that," Tara said feeling rather foolish. "AJ, can you get any DNA from that?" AJ sighed.

"Not unless I can move the floor and take it back to Camelot," AJ said. "But at least we have multiple witnesses of the image. Now, all we got to do is report our findings."

"That's the problem," Tara said. "We can't leave the building."

"Um…" said Fiona, shyly. "Couldn't we just call the cops? That would probably scare Moon away."

Tara grimaced.

"That's what bugs me," Tara said. "There should have already been police activity here, or at least some basic security. But this place was abandoned. It's almost as if the police were supposed to leave this place as we arrived."

"You think it's a setup?" AJ asked.

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "Maybe. I'm not really focusing on that now, though. We need to figure out how to get out of here."

Tara leaned against the wall, and thought. She thought hard for a few minutes, trying to imagine that she was in Moon's position. Being perched atop that building, Moon's angle of fire was probably very high, meaning she couldn't see far into the building. She also knew that Moon would have no easy way to get down from the building, if the girls were to escape. Camelot itself was not a far drive. So, all they would have to do is lose her for a few seconds, and they could slip back to Camelot, unharmed. But then again, Moon could always snipe the driver mid-drive. Unless, of course, she couldn't properly aim at the vehicle.

Or, she didn't have enough ammo. Then, suddenly, Tara realized what she could do.

"AJ," Tara said, gaining hope. "You said Melanie Moon has never missed a shot in her life, right?" AJ shrugged.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well," Tara said. "Do you think you can get her to misfire three more times?"

"Probably," AJ said. "Maybe. What for?"

"It just occurred to me," Tara explained. "If Moon's never missed a shot in her life, then why would she ever bother bringing around extra ammo to her assignments?" AJ opened her mouth to answer, but then realized that she couldn't, as Tara's plan was finally getting through to her. AJ smiled.

"Rachel," AJ said. "Go back to Hammonick's body, and get me that bag of skull pieces. We're getting' out of here."

As Tara's plan came to life, back outside, Moon continued to wait patiently. She had sufficiently managed to halt her trembling, and her aim was , once again, as sturdy as ever. She had missed the last two shots, but she would miss no further. She kept her sights locked on the side entrance. She was prepared for any other decoys, and she made sure no to fire until the target was fully identified.

At least, this was her initial thought process, until she saw something with her peripheral vision. From the main entrance of the morgue, something was clearly trying to get out. The door opened, and Moon turned her gun to face the other entrance. A piece of Hammonick's skull flew out of the door.

Moon didn't fire. She smirked at the futile attempt to fool her. But then, more movement back at the side entrance, and in an involuntary motion, Moon pulled the trigger, taking out another piece of human flesh. Moon cursed at herself. She had missed three times in less than ten minutes. Moon attributed it to her long period of jail time, but it was still no excuse for her.

Suddenly, as Moon felt nothing but humiliation, she realized a much simpler way to achieve her goal. Moon turned her sights on the lone van in the morgue parking lot, and shot out one of the tires. It deflated with a satisfactory hiss, and Moon once again had the upper hand.

Before she realized that she was practically out of ammo.

Moon only had one round left to fire. Even if all of the girls decided to come running out at the same time, she could only take out three at the most, and only if the all ran close enough together. It was quite the predicament for her to find herself in. Moon growled at herself for letting her pride get in the way of practicality. Why did she have to only bring five shots? She asked herself this many times in her head. This was her chance to prove that she was still the best assassin in the world, and currently, she was being an insurmountable failure.

Meanwhile, back inside the morgue, Tara suddenly heard the extra shot being fired. Tara didn't understand why. There weren't any other targets aside from the pieces of Hammonick's skull that were being tossed out the door (which, as a side note, Tara was pretty sure she was going to Hell for suggesting.)

"Fiona, go get Pinky," Tara instructed. Fiona nodded and ran to the main entrance, where Rachel and Pinky were currently waiting. "AJ, do you know what she's shooting at?" Tara asked. AJ shook her head.

"No idea," AJ admitted. "Still, at least it wastes another bullet for her. I sure hope your theory is right, Tara."

"So do I," Tara said honestly. "In any case, she'd at least have to reload at some point. Do you by any chance remember how many shots her gun held at a time?"

"Nope," AJ said. "I read the specs to that thing when I was 12. Don't remember much except what it could do to people." At this time, Pinky came merrily skipping down the hall, Fiona and Rachel in tow. "Oh, good. You gals are alright."

"Except being scared for our lives," Rachel spoke. "How many shots does she have left?"

"Just one," Tara said. "At least, we think so. We heard her fire at something outside. We don't exactly know the situation."

"Well, hasn't one of you checked or something?" Rachel asked.

"Hey," AJ interjected. "Y'all wanna get shot in the face? Fine with me."

Suddenly, Fiona pushed her way to the door.

"I'll do it," Fiona said. Fiona attempted to push AJ away from the door, although she did not have nearly enough strength to move the experienced soldier.

"What the hell do ya think you're doing?" AJ asked. "I wasn't actually being serious about that." Fiona stubbornly continued to push AJ, despite the southern girl not moving an inch.

"I'll look through the crack between the hinges and the frame," Fiona explained. "People have had a tendency to ignore me. I'll take a brief look, and then close the door again. She'll never notice me."

"And if she does?" Tara asked, concern growing. Fiona remained motionless for a moment, contemplating what to say, before answering in a hushed, somber voice.

"Then you'd have your chance to escape," Fiona said softly.

"Fiona, if you're trying to prove some stupid heroism or something," Tara said harshly. "Then just stop. Getting yourself killed won't help any of us."

"I'll be fine," Fiona said. "Hopefully."

Fiona had no idea what was rushing over her. She would have liked to think it as some brave feat that she was trying to accomplish, but it wasn't that. She would have liked to think that she had valiantly chosen to sacrifice herself for the good of the team, but it wasn't that either. It was simply that she just had a terrible feeling that if she didn't check outside, then something truly awful would happen. Perhaps it wasn't the most logical choice, but none of the other girls had a plan except waiting for their time to die.

Fiona took a deep breath to steady herself, then motioned the others deeper down the hall. She slowly opened the door, remaining hidden behind it. Then, as cautiously and stealthily as she could, Fiona lowered her head, and looked through the empty space in the door. She scanned around the environment, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Fiona, at least for the moment, still had her skull intact, but she didn't know how long it would last. Fiona's eyes landed upon the car, and Fiona focused in on the vehicle.

"Oh no," Fiona said quietly.

"What?" Tara asked, taking a step forward.

"I think she shot out one of our tires," Fiona said. "That must have been what that shot wa-"

Fiona froze. For just a second, her vision had scanned upwards, and Fiona's mouth hung open as she watched the bizarre event. Tara took another step forward, noticing the fear in Fiona's expression.

"What?" Tara said. "What is it now?" Fiona gulped.

"Um, unless I'm mistaken…" Fiona explained. "That's a woman jumping off the top of that ten-story building."

Tara quickly ran to Fiona's side, kneeling beside her, and peered out the window. From afar, she could see a black figure falling down the side of the building. The building was only 50 meters away, so Tara was easily able to adjust her vision to see the figure more closely. It was clearly a woman, long black hair floating above her as she dove gracefully to the ground. The woman was not wearing much; a closed black vest, with a black T-shirt underneath, black jeans, and surprisingly, equally shaded high heels. Two clawed gloves were on her hands. Her ghost white skin shone in the moonlight, except on her right arm, which was covered with red markings. If Tara was thinking rationally, then she perhaps would have thought that the woman had simply thrown on a random mesh of clothing for the night. But Tara wasn't thinking rationally, as she watched the woman free-fall.

It seemed a moment that Moon would simply splat upon the ground, but luck would not be on Tara side. Moon fell relatively close to the building, so much so that extending her arm would cause her to collide with the exterior. Yet, that was exactly what Moon did. Moon rotated herself in mid-air, so that she was facing the structure. With two clawed gloves, she dug her fingers into the building. Tara didn't know what the claws were made out of, but she knew they must have been extremely resilient, as they carved through the steel with relative ease. As Moon's descent slowed, she dug her heels into the building as well, slowing her fall further. By the time she was ten feet off the ground, Moon had practically halted completely. She checked her distance to the ground, and then jumped away from the building, landing with both feet on the ground. Moon reached into her back pocket, and then pulled out a small pistol.

Then, she ran at the morgue in a full sprint. Tara quickly shut the door, and she and Fiona backed away a quickly as possible.

"RUN!" Tara ordered, bolting down the hallway. Fiona dashed after her. AJ didn't know what the girls were panicking about, but she saw the fear in their eyes as they ran away. AJ took off after the others, as Rachel and Pinky followed close behind. Taking sharp turns around the corners, Tara quickly arrived at the front entrance, and held the door open as the others came running behind her. They ran past Tara, and onto the dark streets. In the distance, Tara could see Moon sprinting after them, slowly gaining ground. Moon raised her gun, and fired at the girls. However, the accuracy of the weapon was not to her standard, and the bullets dropped before they got near the girls.

"Tara! What's the plan?!" AJ yelled as Moon got closer.

"Don't you have any weapon on you?!" Tara shouted.

"No!" AJ yelled back. "Fuck, she's getting closer!" The girls rounded a street corner. Tara looked around, trying to find any refuge from their troubles.

Damn it, Tara thought. If only we had our weapons. Or an escape vehicle. Or anything.

An alley appeared on Tara's left. Without hesitation, Tara ran into it. The others followed, not wanting to be separated from the group. The alley took a right turn, but as Tara turned the corner, she froze. The alley led to a dead end. All that was present around the bend was a fire escape, and two dumpsters. The others turned the corner, and realized that they had trapped themselves.

"What do we do now?" asked Fiona, who heard Moon close behind.

"Quick," Tara ordered. "Get in the dumpsters, and stay quiet. If she comes, we'll see if we can launch a surprise attack." Without any other options, the girls opened up the dumpsters, and climbed inside. Pinky hopped into one, not bothering to check whether it was empty or not. AJ jumped in after her, feeling very fortunate that the containers happened to be empty. Tara and Fiona entered the other dumpster. However, Rachel paused, covering her nose.

"Oh, great," Rachel muttered. "No way in hell I'm going to lower myself to-Whoa!"

AJ suddenly grabbed onto Rachel's shirt, and threw her into the dumpster with Pinky and herself. The lids to the dumpsters slammed shut, mere seconds before Moon entered the alleyway.

"I'm sure they came through here," Moon muttered to herself. She quickly moved to the corner wall, peering out to see if the girls were there. Once she noted that it was a dead end, Moon put away her gun.

"Where are you?" Moon wondered aloud. She reached into her vest, and pulled out a butterfly knife. "I know you have to be here somewhere. I can smell you."

Moon swung around her knife, revealing the long, sharp blade within. From within the dumpster, Tara was giving hand signals to Fiona. The message she was attempting to get across was to lunge at Moon the moment she opened the lid. But, she wasn't exactly sure if Fiona understood what the signals meant, or if she could even see them at all within the darkness.

"You know, beating Discord wasn't much of an accomplishment," Moon said, knowing that the girls had to be within earshot. "I mean, he wasn't a true killer. Just some nutcase with a love for explosives. I have been trained to be the ultimate killing machine since I was seven. It was my birthright. Honestly, do you think you can hide from me? I know you're right here, and…" Moon said, stopping in front of the dumpsters. "There really aren't that many places to hide."

Moon smiled as she placed her hand on the lid of Tara's dumpster.

"You bitches have given us so much trouble over the past month," Moon said with disdain. "But now, it's over. Tell me, have any of you ever felt the satisfaction of a blade running against your skin?"

Moon ran her fingers over the scarred right arm, feeling each individual mark with great satisfaction.

"The feeling of cold steel penetrating your warm body. The feeling of blood pouring from your wounds. It's exhilarating! Now, you get to experience such a wonderful sensation! The most pure feeling of bliss that this world has ever known." Moon placed both hands on the lid, taking her time, letting each tense moment drag itself out.

"Thank you, ladies," Moon said with sadistic glee. Through a crack in the lid, Tara could see Moon's icy blue eyes, staring at the dumpster with an intense hunger. "Thanks to you, I finally have a reason to cut again."

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"What the hell?" Moon muttered to herself, taking her hands off of the dumpster. She reached into her front pocket of her pants, and pulled out a cellphone.

"Yes?" Moon said, clearly annoyed. "Yes sir, I'm about to do it now. Wait… what? What do you mean? I… yes… yes… but sir, I… what do you mean, 'It's not important'?! Don't you remember why you hired me? I… I… uh… fine, sir. Whatever you say." Moon moaned in great disappointment, as she hung up the phone and put it away.

Of all the fucking times, Moon thought to herself in anger.

"Looks like luck is on your side tonight," Moon said towards the dumpsters. "My execution order's been delayed. I'm supposed to keep you alive now. You can come out if you want."

Not one of the girls dared so much as breathe.

"Fine then," Moon said. "My job is done for tonight. Something about, 'new plans emerging'. You should consider yourselves fortunate to survive such an ordeal. Of course, the hunt isn't over. It has simply been put on hold. In the meantime, enjoy this little token of respect."

Moon took her butterfly knife and threw it to the ground. The blade wedged itself into the earth, as Moon started to walk away.

"That should give you more than enough evidence of my existence. Give it to your pathetic superiors. I want them to know that I'm back. I want everyone to know. I only wish I could tell them myself. But I must make my leave at this time. So, for now, Auf Wiedersehen, my darlings!"

"Well, that was something," AJ said. She was in shock. The Living Nightmare, the most feared assassin on the planet, had just let them live to see another day. It was something unheard of, something so mind-boggling fantastic that AJ would have never even dreamed of it.

"You can say that again," Tara said, taking a close look at the knife embedded in the ground. "We better take this with us. Guess we better tell Wilson what we saw."

"Ooh, can I tell the story?" Pinky begged.

"No," Tara said sternly. "Something tells me that this knife will tell the story better than we ever could."

__________

What is so appealing about a thong? Dash thought to herself. She had been in the strip club for well over an hour, and she was starting to get tired of seeing scantily clad women appeasing the sexual fantasies of men. It was wearing on her patience, and, more importantly, her sanity. This led Dash to think of things she otherwise would never be thinking of, which is how the thoughts about thongs got into her mind.

I mean, if so many bitches are going to wear them, Dash thought. Then they'd have to be comfortable, right? No one would buy something that rides up on you. Unless… that's the point. To be so uncomfortable that you become comfortable. Like reverse psychology. You think it should be uncomfortable, but then it isn't as bad as you think. So then, it feels comfortable by comparison. Wait… why the fuck am I thinking about this?

Dash's train of thought was interrupted when she saw McCarther walk out of the private room, chatting to Lucy Mai. For what would count as the first time Dash was actually happy to see the man, Dash got up from her seat and walked over to McCarther. On her way, she passed a stripper trying to seduce some men.

"(cough) You're mother doesn't love you. (cough)," Dash spoke out. She wasn't sure if the woman heard it or not, as the stripper continued to entertain the men without hesitation.

"So I said, 'Hey, watch the tomato soup!' And then… Oh, hello there," McCarther's story was broken up as Dash approached.

"Ya ready to go, boss?" Dash asked in a rather desperate tone.

"Not quite," McCarther said. Dash's mood sank yet again. "However, I do feel as if I need a smoke. Toots, you will accompany an old gentleman outside, won't you?"

Great, thought Dash. This is the part where I get molested.

"Fine, boss," Dash moaned out. She followed McCarther to the entrance, and walked outside into the crisp November night. McCarther took out a cigar and a lighter, as Dash occupied herself by observing the neighborhood. She didn't feel any safer, seeing that the streets were probably ridden with crime. It also didn't help that the bouncer was no longer by the door, having to shoo away an overzealous customer.

"So, Miss Dawson," McCarther said, biting on his cigar. "Do you want to change the world?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Dash asked. She didn't really care about what McCarther had to say, so long as she was doing her job.

"Look, I'm not the senile, old bastard you think I am," McCarther said, rather serious. "You don't get this far in life without being able to understand people."

"Wait… what?" Dash said confused.

"You heard me," McCarther said. "I know you think I'm a crazy old fuck. Almost everyone does. But here's the thing: I like you, kid. You see things differently from the rest."

"Are you implying something?" Dash asked.

"Look, you hate the world, kid. Anyone can see that. So do I," McCarther explained. "This world is ruled by little pinheaded motherfuckers who only care about themselves. Ole' George-y was one of the biggest schmucks in the universe. This whole little system we have here… partying away as others suffer… it's just bullshit."

"You can say that again," Dash said. "People are cunts."

"Yes, yes they are," McCarther agreed. "Look, what I really want to do with my life is-"

"Yo, mothafucka!" A voice called out. Two gang members approached Dash and McCarther on either side, each of them armed with a small blade.

"Hey, fool, give us your cash," Jordan called out.

"Yeah, just hand the motherfucking money over," said Benny. "No one's gotta get hurt." McCarther looked around nervously. However, Dash remained calm, looking at the four men surrounding her.

"What do you punk-ass motherfuckers intend to do if we don't?" Dash smirked.

"Yo, do you want that old nigga to get cut?" Jerome asked. "Just leave your psycho bitch-ass outta here."

"Nah, I think this bitch wants it, bro," Anwar said, thrusting in the air. "She don't just want to get cut. This bitch wants some pleasure from tonight."

"If you're implying what I think you're implying," Dash said. "Then I have to inform you that you are wrong. Honestly, I'm pretty sure this old bastard would provide a better time than you."

Jordan started to laugh.

"Oh, shit!" Jordan laughed out. "That's a burn, mothafu-"

"Hey, shut your ass, nigga!" Jerome yelled out. He started advancing towards Dash, menacingly. "I'm just gonna fuck this bitch up. No more foreplay in this mothafucka. We goin' to be slicing tonight."

"Come and get, you piece of shit," Dash smiled. She had her back turned to Jerome as he charged at her, his blade extended. But just before he could get in range, Dash's beloved white sneaker had already connected to his face. The gun spiraled out of his hand, as Jerome collapsed to the ground, unconscious. In shock, the other gang members froze, as Dash took up a fighting stance.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she taunted with a grin. "Get your asses over here!"

The other men charged instantly. Jordan reached Dash first. He tried to stab her, but she easily dodged, stripping the knife from his hand and pushing him to the ground. Anwar ran up to her from behind, but before he could strike, Dash quickly turned round, and slashed the knife against his cheek. Anwar cursed and stumbled backwards, clutching his face. Benny came in next and attempted to swing his knife at Dash, but she dodged three of his strikes. On the fourth attempt, Dash ducked underneath his blade, and dug her knife deep into Benny's chest, killing him before his body ever hit the ground. Anwar and Jordan panicked.

"Fuck!" Anwar shouted. "She killed Benny!"

"Fuck this shit!" Jordan said. "This score aint worth it no more." Jordan ran away, as Anwar picked up Jerome's body, carrying his unconscious friend back across the street. Dash spit on Benny's corpse, as McCarther regained his composure.

"Kid, you've got quite some talent," McCarther said. "Look, I am planning to gain a large amount of influence over WMH Enterprises, even more than I currently have. We're going to revolutionize the world. No more American bullshit. We are going to give power back to the people. And I want you to be a part of that future."

"Really?" Dash said in surprise. McCarther nodded.

"Yeah," he said, going back to smoking his cigar. "I'd like to offer you a private business proposition that will benefit all of the things you believe in. If you want to accept, then I want you to meet us at this address tomorrow, at 10 PM." McCarther reached into his suit and pulled out a slip of paper, which he handed to Dash. "You know, I think you've done enough for tonight. Go back to Wilson for tonight, even though I know you don't really want to work for that bastard."

"So…" Dash aid, trying to understand what McCarther was proposing. "Let me get this straight. You're offering me a job which, if I am to understand correctly, involves fighting against the fucked up sociological bullshit of America. Not only that, but I get to stop taking orders from Wilson, which means I no longer have to do bullshit for the government. Right?"

McCarther shrugged.

"Pretty much."

"That… that actually doesn't sound too bad," Dash admitted. She still didn't like McCarther, but if what he was offering was in fact true, than Dash was practically being offered the ultimate rebellious dish on a golden platter. "I'll… consider it." McCarther smirked.

"Good, I thought you would," McCarther said happily. "Run along, now. See you tomorrow. Hopefully." Dash tucked the slip of paper into her suit pocket, and then entered the limousine. McCarther walked up to the driver's seat, and instructed the driver to take Dash back to WMH Enterprises headquarters. As the limousine pulled away, Dash started to think about what had been offered in the past few minutes.

And as she did that, McCarther took out his cellphone, and made a very important call.

__________

As Dash entered Camelot, she couldn't help but notice the surprising amount of people wandering about. Usually, other military people just stayed in the shadows, working behind the scenes. But as Dash walked back to the sleeping quarters, she counted at least ten people run by her, checking over notes or talking to each other. Dash took a deep sigh, and stepped through the door to the sleeping quarters, plopping herself down on her bunk and closing her eyes. Dash suddenly noticed the presence of other people beside her. Dash opened her eyes to see her tired and distressed teammates sitting on their bunks, staring at Dash.

"What are your panties in a bunch for?" Dash sneered as she rolled over, turning her backs to the girls.

"Do you have any idea of what we've been through?" Tara asked, somewhat annoyed by Dash's exhausted complexion.

"Do you have any idea what I was doing?" Dash retorted, keeping her back to the girls. "Crazy shit happened tonight."

"What could have possibly been so horrible as to worry you?" Rachel asked from above, mildly curious.

"Well, let's see," Dash said, recalling the events of the night. "I was asked to strip naked in front of an old dude, then I was taken to a strip club. I was hit on by a bunch of unattractive whores, and then, some gangbangers tried to rape me. I kicked their asses, then came back here. Pretty shitty night."

"That's all?" Tara asked. "That's what was so crazy?!"

"Oh, I forgot," Dash quickly remembered. "I also rode a motorcycle. Pretty kick-ass. Am I right?" Tara glared at Dash, who was acting which such depravity that it seemed like she had been in the worst catastrophe in history.

"Well," Tara spoke with annoyance. "We nearly got killed by the Living Nightmare." Dash, surprised by the news, turned back over with a smug grin.

"Well, aint that charming," Dash said.

"It's not funny, Dash," AJ interrupted from above. "We almost got killed."

"Yeah, but you nearly get killed every night," Dash reasoned. AJ groaned.

"Look, Dash," Fiona said. "It was awful. She was terrifying. Just to be in her presence felt like being near a ghost. We barely escaped with our lives."

"Boohoo," Dash said. "Stop whining. I've had a shitty day, too, you know. All the fucked up shit I had to deal with. Man, those strippers…" Dash was caught off, as Tara snapped towards her, leaning off of the bunk.

"Are you kidding me?" Tara nearly yelled. "We nearly get massacred, and all you do is whine about the joy ride of a day you've been having. We were going to die. That isn't something to shrug off or laugh. And yet, you think it's okay to whine about perverts and strippers?! Stop acting like you're the center of the universe, and actually show that you care for once!"

"Hey," Dash spat out, her words quick. "Don't try to put words in my mouth. I'm sorry such an incident happened to you, Spark. Moon has really got to work on her aim." Tara nearly lunged off her bunk, but Fiona interrupted her.

"Look," Fiona said, trying to remove the tension in the room. She remembered the last time that the girls fought. She especially remembered what Tara's face had looked like after the incident. Even now, the marks on Tara's face hadn't completely gone away, and the last thing Fiona needed was for both girls to go at each other again. "Let's just calm down here. Look, Dash, I'm sure you've had a bad time tonight. But, Tara's just a little annoyed that you don't seem to be caring about any of the struggles we had to put up with either. It's nothing wrong with you… it's just-"

"You don't think I care," Dash finished Fiona's words, sitting up from her bunk. "Well, you know what? I really don't. Why should I? Clearly, you don't trust me!"

"What are you talking about?" Tara asked, getting offended. Dash rolled her eyes.

"You never care about me at all," Dash complained. "You expect me to care about your problems when you lack the decency to care about mine."

"Rebecca, we have no idea what you're rambling about," Tara said. "If you would open up to us more, and maybe care enough to trust us with this, then maybe-"

"No more 'maybe'! No more of this pseudo-'we care' bullshit! You all are just a bunch of hypocritical bitches, you know that?" Dash spat out with hate. All attention was drawn to her. Even Pinky, who had preferred to stay out of the fight, was now equally shocked and hurt as the rest of the girls. As Dash spoke, each sentence slowly increased in the amount of hatred and anger put into it. "You yell at me about not caring, but when have you ever cared about my shit? Don't think I don't know what people think of me. I know what you cocksuckers have said about me when you thought I wasn't listening. You assholes. I mean, why should I care about you, when you don't even trust me enough to rescue AJ from Discord? Or when you force me to do shit I can't stand, like circling a town at midnight, or working for a giant asshole all day who wants to finger me like a fucking eight-year old? Or, maybe, not give a shit about my opinion, like, ever! All of you fucking fuckers complain that I don't care? Go fuck yourselves! All you are just a bunch of motherfucking, needy, evil, attention-loving, bullshit-spewing pricks! Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep in the training room, cause that's clearly the only place you selfish whores would want me!"

Dash stood up from the bunk, and walked to the door. Without turning back, she held up her middle finger to the girls, and then stormed out of the room. The door was slammed shut, as the girls stared in amazement at Dash's fantastic display of rage.

__________

November 3rd, 2015

It was five minutes to ten o'clock as Dash sped down the road on her bike. She felt no regrets about the decision she was making. All that needed to be said was already said last night. Dash knew that whatever her future could have held, she had no desire to turn back. Perhaps, if she cared a little more, she would have chosen differently, or at the very least, felt sad about what she was leaving behind. However, Dash figured that the less time she ever had to think of those people again, the better she would feel.

The rainbow-haired girl soon arrived at her destination: 3 Park Lane. Dash pulled up to a three-story tall stone building. Its exterior was cracked, appearing very worn-down, and she was sure that it was certainly near life-threatening to enter it. But Dash paid little mind to her own safety as she got off of her bike and walked to the building, focusing only on the task at hand.

From what she had gathered, the building used to be some kind of orphanage back in the 50's. But now, it was simply a forgotten piece of time, abandoned and left to rot in downtown Philadelphia. The building itself was rather wide, wide enough that it seemed to be able to accommodate one hundred children on a single floor. The only entrance was a set of old, wooden doors. On the ground before it was a sign that had long since fallen from its perch, leaving the building empty and nameless. Dash cautiously slid the door open, noticing the loud creaking noise emerging from the wood. Dash entered into a room that used to be some sort of reception room. Across from her, a wooden desk had fallen to its side, and Dash could see dusty chairs lined against the wall.

"Hey, anyone here?!" Dash called out into the darkness, noticing the echoes tracing down the shallow halls.

"Over here, kiddo!" a voice called out from the darkness. With all of the echoing, it would have been near impossible for Dash to locate the source. However, as Dash took a flashlight out of her pocket, she noticed a piece of paper attached to the wall. It had an arrow hastily drawn on it, pointing to a hallway on Dash's left. Dash followed the arrow, traveling down the dark hallway. She passed by what appeared to be sleeping quarters, however, she couldn't quite be sure. What appeared to be bed frames were scattered about the room, knocked over sideways, and the area held the same cold emptiness that the rest of the building had in plenty. Dash took five more steps forward before seeing another sign, this time pointing to Dash's right. Dash turned to her right, and noticed a flight of stone steps leading upwards. Dash slowly ascended the steps, noticing how much colder she got as she traveled up. When she reached the top of the steps, Dash stopped.

Dash found herself in the remains of an old cafeteria, which she knew must have served young kids horrible food at some point. The room itself was trashed. Twenty wooden tables were lying sideways on the ground. There were four large windows, two on each wall, located about ten feet off of the ground. However, they were no longer necessary, as on the back wall, a giant hole was showing off a view to the building behind the orphanage, letting moonlight into the large chamber. Near the back wall, McCarther was patiently standing around, with Tiny and Brutus standing on either side.

"Hey, kid, glad you could come!" McCarther shouted. Dash didn't move any further than a foot from the steps.

"Glad I could make it," Dash smiled back. "So, is this what I think it's all about?"

"Yeah, baby!" McCarther shouted excitedly. He started to walk towards Dash, a large grin on his face. "See, this is the place I grew up. I was born in an orphanage just like you. Back in the day, this place use to treat us like shit. But, who's shit now, baby?!" Dash looked around the remains of the orphanage, looking quite impressed.

"I guess I should say, 'Congratulations!'" Dash said. "I mean, you're quite the success now. Second in line to WMH Enterprises. Not bad."

"Well, I used to be third in line a few days ago," McCarther shrugged. At this time, Dash noticed that the room darkened a bit, as a shadow appeared over the hole in the back wall. "Oh, that reminds me… I need to introduce you to someone who is helping to make my dream a reality."

The female figure jumped down from the hole, allowing the moonlight to shine upon her. Even in the darkness, Dash could not mistake the pale white skin, blood red arm, and icy blue eyes of the woman before her.

"Miss Dawson," McCarther said happily. "I'd like to introduce you to the world's greatest assassin, Melanie Moon."

Dash's eyes widened slightly. It was barely visible though, and Dash kept a straight face on regardless, so the others never saw her surprise. In fact, after a brief moment, Dash grinned.

"So… you're the one who killed George Hammonick, I take it?" Dash asked. Moon nodded.

"Perceptive," Moon commented. "I think she will do quite well."

"Oh, German," Dash teased. "Spicy. Anyway, I take it that you knew about Miss Moon's… delightful act of murder, right?"

McCarther laughed.

"Oh, kiddo," McCarther said happily through his chuckles. "You really know quite a lot for someone so new at this. See, a few months ago, this guy came up to me with the chance of a lifetime. He told me that I could change the shitty business of America, and turn it into gold. Rip it from the hands of the current pricks that owned it, and give it all away. All I had to do, he said, was get full control of WMH Enterprises. He told me that if I paid for the release of Miss Moon here, and kept the guards quiet about it, then I would be able to fulfill my dream."

"So, she killed George Hammonick because you needed to get control of the company?" Dash reiterated.

"Precisely," McCarther stated. "But all of the power went to that shithead, Brian. We can't let him hold the power. My dream is too important to let him get in the way."

"Just so I know what I'm working for," Dash stated. "What is your dream? Why should I believe in you? I've followed enough secretive assholes who pretend to have my best interest at heart." McCarther laughed again.

"Okay, here's the full tale," McCarther said. "Growing up in this orphanage, I always hated how us weak kids were picked on. The adults were too selfish to put money into better living conditions for us. I wanted to believe that in the future, the little guy would rise up against the big bullies, and take back what was rightfully theirs. All my life, I wanted to give power back to the people. Do away with all of this high society bullshit."

"Because you know that all the upperclassmen want is more power than they already have," Dash said understandingly. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

"Then you know why I want to take over WMH," McCarther said, once again walking towards Dash. "When I take control, and I let Moon's little friend get access to the stuff we need, nobody will ever feel helpless again. We'll see how well the people do against our strength! We have the power to take back the world, and once we do, the new definition of strong will be made, one where everyone who treats us badly will be shot down like fucking cockroaches."

"Putting power back in the hands of the people," Dash said to herself, happily. "Got to admit, you already had me a while back. People are assholes. Fuck 'em. I'll gladly help you start this little revolution of yours."

"Excellent!" McCarther said, getting with an arm's reach of Dash. Even with Dash being relatively short, she was still taller than the old man. "I knew you would support us, kid! Everything you want will finally be achieved."

McCarther held out his hand.

"What do you say, kid?" he asked. Dash paused for a moment, and then started to chuckle to herself. She smiled one of the happiest smiles she had in a long time.

"You know," Dash started to say. "I used to think that you were some perverted, old corporate type."

Dash raised her arm slowly, and then, with great strength, grabbed onto McCarther's hand, shaking it hard.

"But I was wrong…" Dash said, still smiling brightly. McCarther happily chuckled along with Dash.

"Great!" he shouted. "Now, let's get down to busi-"

McCarther paused as he tried to release his grip. But, no matter how hard he tried, Dash didn't let go of his hand. He yanked and pulled it, but Dash didn't budge. McCarther looked back at Dash's face, and saw one of the most terrifying scowls he had ever seen. Dash's teeth were gritted together, her eyes cold and empty. Dash's body shook slightly, as she stared deep into McCarther's eyes.

"…you're just fucking insane!" Dash shouted at him. Dash closed her grip as hard as she could, feeling the bone's in McCarther's hand shatter under such pressure. McCarther screamed, and tried harder to release his grip, but could not.

"You don't care about people," Dash spoke harshly, her voice grave and deep. "I know more about you than you think. You were never poor. You were never starving. Everything was always handed to you on a silver fucking platter, as you watched everyone suffer around you!"

Dash's voice raised, and her grip tightened further. The pain was so intense that McCarther nearly fell to his knees. However, Dash noticed that Tiny and Brutus were already pointing their pistols at Dash, and the only thing preventing them from firing was that McCarther was in the way. And yet, Moon did nothing, simply watching with hawk-like eyes, as the scene played out before her.

"You don't want more money to help people," Dash sneered. "All you want is more fucking women to sit on your lap as your power grows! Putting people down is your life. You've cost hundreds of people their jobs, thousands more their freedom, and millions their hard-earned money, just so you could blow it on one more fucking lap dance! Now, it's time you've suffered for it!"

"Someone!" McCarther called out. "Help me!"

"SPARK, GO!" Dash shouted to the steps behind her.

Dash suddenly ducked. Her hand still attached to McCarther's, the elderly man felt himself being tugged downwards, unable to stand upright. McCarther tried to pull himself back upwards, when he suddenly spotted flying at him.

Tara followed her cue perfectly. Using the steps to gain momentum, she sprung up over Das's bent-over form. As she fell to the floor over her friend, her sword tore through the air with incredible force. By the time Tara hit the ground, the blade had already cut completely through the neck, and McCarther's head rolled to the ground. The guards were stunned, unable to react, and Tara took perfect advantage of this golden opportunity.

"NOW, GIRLS!" Tara commanded. "TAKE 'EM DOWN!"

__________

"…the only place you selfish whores would want me!"

Dash stormed out of the room, and made sure to slam the door behind her as loud as she possibly could. She couldn't believe how insensitive the girls were to her troubles. Sure, they might have nearly been killed, but she had a bad time as well. They may have had to fight a deadly assassin, but she had to talk to strippers. It was a totally equivalent scenario. Wasn't it?

Dash never moved much further from the door. The more Dash thought about it, though, the less justified her words became. Was she imagining this, or was she actually feeling bad about what she said? Dash reflected on what she had said even more, and the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She thought that being stuck around such nice people was starting to have an effect on her judgment, which she wasn't sure if she wanted or not. Regardless of how much she wanted it, it was certainly having an effect on her. A few years back, she would have never taken back any harsh statements, but now, she felt like she wanted to do something that would defy everything she had ever known about herself.

She wanted to apologize.

Dash had been raised in a tough life, and learned how to become even harder. So what was the problem then? Was she going soft? Was she losing her edge? The more she thought about it, the more the answer became apparent to her.

She hated her friends. She hated how snide and cruel they could be sometimes. She hated how they never seemed to understand anything, and how they always jumped to conclusions. She hated how she needed their combat abilities, yet hated how they didn't usually talk to her, or open up to her, or say nice things to her when she actually accomplished something good. She hated how they acted sometimes.

And those "sometimes", they acted just like she did.

Dash took a deep sigh, rotated 180 degrees, and then marched back into the room she had left seconds prior.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Dash screamed the instant she stepped back into the room She had barely been gone for ten seconds, and the looks of amazement were still plastered on her friends' faces.

"Wait, what now?" Tara said confused. "You just called us a bunch of whores less than ten seconds ago, and now you're sorry?"

"Yes," Dash sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said. In all honesty, my day was a fuckin' walk in the park compared to yours, and I'm sorry for being such an ass about it." Silence filled the room, as the girls were trying to register the seemingly implausible words that were coming out of Dash's mouth.

"Wow," was simply all Tara could say. "I… I never thought I'd here you apologize for anything." Dash took a deep sigh.

"Listen," Dash said, unusually soft. "I understand that I'm not the easiest person to get along with. In fact, I don't get along with others at all. Maybe that's cuz I had seven assholes as foster brothers, or maybe it's cuz I listened to too much G.G. Allin when I was 9, or maybe it's cause all the grown-ups I knew way back when were complete fucking dicks. And I'm fully aware that I may come across as… bitchy. But, I figure, if we are going to be a team, I may as well finally start acting like a team player. There… that's your fucking friendship speech. You happy now?"

"Actually," Tara said, smiling at Dash. "I'm kind of glad that you said that. It's nice to see you finally opening up, Dash." Dash crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, whatever," Dash said, still trying to pass off her nonchalant persona. "So, what's with all of the crazy military action here?"

"Well," AJ explained. "When Moon attacked us, we were about to be killed by this big knife of hers. Next thing we know, she get a phone call telling her to call off the hit. She leaves the knife in the ground, we take it back here, and now, we're checking for fingerprints."

"A phone call?"

"Yes, a phone call," Rachel confirmed. "Whoever was in charge must have told her that some change of plan had been made, and I guess she just followed his orders."

"Was it The Unknown?" Dash asked, very curious. Tara shook her head.

"I thought so," Tara said. "But the thing is… at first, Moon cornered us into a building. The reason we were able to get out of that was that Moon only brought five bullets with her due to her confidence in her skills. She ran out of ammo, and she started chasing us. But when Discord attacked us, he said that The Unknown knew that there were six members of P.O.N.Y. So, it couldn't be him, because then Moon would have expected to fight six of us, not five."

"Unless," Dash said. "Moon knew that only five people were going to show up to the morgue. But I was on a top secret job. The only people who knew about it were Wilson, you guys, and…"

Suddenly, realization struck all of the girls like a bolt of lightning.

"Wait," Tara said. "Dash, there were no guards by the morgue. What if someone paid them off, so they wouldn't be able to show up?"

"That would mean," Dash said, the truth sinking in. "That someone wealthy would have to be able to do it. Someone who wouldn't want any evidence that they were connected to Hammonick's death. If Moon wasn't found, then…"

"Then no one would be able to protect George's son from another assassination attempt," Tara finished. "Which means, the company would fall to…"

No one said anything else. They didn't need to. Their minds finally clicked together, the puzzle finally fitting into place. It became quite apparent what needed to be done.

"Tara, I have an idea," Dash said, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. "McCarther gave this to me back at the strip club. He said he wants to offer me a job. Tomorrow, ten o'clock." Tara read the address, as a plan started to form in her mind.

"Okay," Tara said. "Here's what we do…"

___________

With brilliant execution, the other girls sprang through the four open windows, guns blazing. Tiny and Brutus immediately dove for cover behind the wooden tables. As gunshots rang around her, Moon remained motionless, watching the P.O.N.Y's land in the room and spring back into action without missing a beat. Fiona stayed back with Tara and Dash, as AJ and Pinky shot at the wooden table where Tiny and Brutus were hiding.

"Tiny," Brutus shouted over the gunfire. "I'll be the distraction. You flank on the right when I say so." Tiny nodded, as he prepared to move. However, one of Pinky's shots passed straight through the weakened wood, and struck Brutus in the head. Brutus collapsed to the ground, dead, as Tiny gasped in shock.

"Ricky!" Tiny yelled out in sorrow. "Damn you! Damn you all! You've killed the man I loved!"

Despite the rather extreme circumstances, Dash couldn't help but crack up into laughter.

"Holy Shit!" Dash shouted with pleasant surprise. "You two really did jerk each other off in a K-Mart bathroom!"

"Focus, Dash!" Tara instructed over the gunfire, although Dash's laughter hardly stiffled. Tara couldn't help but notice Moon standing in the corner. Moon didn't interfere; she just watched. Moon was wearing the same outfit she was wearing yesterday, The outfit actually worried her a bit. While the day before, she thought Moon had simply put on a random assortment of clothes, now, Tara got to see the impressive design of the uniform. Moon's heels and gloves were sharper than steel, and her vest contained many spots that she could be hiding some sort of weapon. Not to mention, Tara saw Moon's legendary sniper rifle attached to her back. Moon calmly watched as Tiny attempted to fire back at the girls, only for Pinky to gun him down. With the guards dead, Moon suddenly attracted all of the attention in the room.

"Freeze, Moon!" Tara commanded. The other girls quickly approached Moon, trapping her in the corner of the room. With four guns pointed at her head, and a sword aimed at her throat, Moon casually raised her hands in the air.

"Nice work, ladies," said Moon, completely unfazed by the death of her comrades. "Though I have to say, you were a little sloppy in your entrance. The pink-haired one dove through about a second late, and I don't even think you remembered to give her a gun."

"Shut up," Tara ordered. "You'll be taken in for questioning. Move, and we end you."

"Do you really think arresting me will stop anything?" Moon asked, grinning. "Do you have any idea what you are up against? For all of the work you girls think you have done, you are always three steps behind us."

"Us?" Tara wondered aloud. "Whose 'us'?" Moon smirked.

"You know who," Moon said. "Or rather, I suppose you don't." Dash groaned, and took a step forward.

"Alright, that's enough out of you," Dash said angrily. "If you don't mind, Spark, I'm going to have to wound your prisoner here. Nothing personal."

"Wait, Dash," Tara said. "What are you-"

Smack

Dash's fist brutally collided with Moon's facing, causing the assassin to collapse to the floor. Moon held her jaw, as Tara grabbed onto Dash's shoulder.

"Dash!" Tara yelled. "That's way too far!" Dash's smug expression immediately dropped, and Dash took a step back with great humility.

"Right," Dash said. "Sorry." Tara groaned and walked over to Moon. Tara grabbed onto Moon's vest, and hoisted her off of the ground.

However, it was the exact moment Moon had been waiting for. As Moon was raised off of the ground, she suddenly dived back down and delivered a sweep to Tara's legs. Using her momentum, Moon sprung up onto Pinky, her claws violently tearing away Pinky's guns out of her hands. In panic, AJ tried to fire at Moon, but she found the woman to be moving to rapidly to hit. Before she knew it, Moon was right on top of her. AJ was disarmed of her weapon and thrown to the ground. As Tara got back up, Fiona and Dash charged at Moon. However, like a serpent, Moon, slid away from the corner, and into the center of the room. Holding up her own pistol, which she had modified since the previous night, Moon shot the pistol out of Rachel's hands, smiling at the improvements to the gun's accuracy.

"Okay, you bastards," Moon said. She slowly took off her right glove, revealing more tally marks across her hand. "I'm ready. Come at me! Come on! I dare you. I need to cut again. I need to bleed again. I need to feel your blood spraying over me! Let the hunter and the prey become one!"

"Lady," Dash sneered. "You seriously need to get yourself on some medication."

Moon laughed. A cold, wicked laugh that chilled Tara deep to the bone. It was quite clear that Moon was confident on her own survival. Tara readied herself, sword in hand, waiting for Moon to make the first move.

"Come on," Moon said with a wicked smile, blue eyes penetrating through the girls. "It's time to die."

"HEY, EVERYBODY!" A voice suddenly called from above.

Tara was confused. It certainly wasn't from anyone that Tara had heard before. The voice was deep, rugged, and carried with it a hard accent. Everyone in the room looked up at the windows. Two men were perched in the windows, one on either side of the room. The man to Tara's left spoke again.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the man said towards Moon, with a curious look upon his face. "But… are you trying to kill these young ladies?" Moon didn't know what to say to the two odd gentlemen who had suddenly appeared in the windows.

"Uh…yes?" Moon managed to say, rather confused.

The man shook his head.

"Oh, we can't let you do that," the man explained. He and the other man jumped down from the windows, shaking the ground as they landed. Landing in the moonlight, Tara could make out some features of the men.

The man on her left had short brown hair, uncombed and untidy. He had a very rugged look about him, with a square face and cleft chin. He had stubble covering his face, and he smiled a most cruel and sick smile. He wore a large black coat and jeans; something that looked just bought a clothing store. The man on the right was much taller than the other, his hair black, but equally messy. A bushy black beard was what this man had on his head, which covered half of his face. He didn't smile or frown; his face remained straight, nothing fazing through him. He wore almost identical clothing, with one rather glaring exception. His large coat was fur, and the sleeves were ripped off past his biceps. However, that was not the glaring feature. Rather, that was his arms. His muscular arms were red. Not in any light sense of the word, but rather, the entirety of the skin on his arms was bright red, and his arm appeared to be almost crystalline in nature. Both men were rather large in stature, both easily over six and a half feet in height. They were incredibly strong in build, and looked to be an immense challenge to fight.

"See," continued the first man. "You want to kill these girls. And that…" the man cracked his neck. "…is our job."

"AJ," Tara whispered to her friend. "Who the hell are these guys?"

"I…" stammered AJ, who was busy being equally confused by the appearance of the two men. "I have no idea. But I don't like the look of 'em."

"Now," said the man. "If you would please leave-"

Suddenly, Moon dove at the man with lightning speed. Her gloved hand extended, she attempted to claw at his face. However, the man dodged the blow, and retaliated with a quick blow to the stomach. Moon froze from the impact. She clutched her stomach in agony. Moon felt like she was going to sick. She looked up at the man in disdain. He smiled back at her, his face showing nothing but cockiness and arrogance. Moon tried to get up, but suddenly felt a large foot force her down from behind. Moon couldn't even push herself up; the sheer weight of the other man forced her down on her chest.

"Who…" Moon managed to cough out, as she felt her ribs snapping like twigs. "Who the fuck are you?" The cocky man laughed.

"You cannot recognize the best mercenaries in the world?" the man asked with a smug grin. He pointed at himself. "Yuri Korbalov."

He pointed at the other man.

"Kristov Korbalov."

He pointed at Moon.

"Deceased."

Moon choked on her own blood, as she felt each of her organs shattering under the intense weight.

"But…" Moon said with a squeak. "But… I thought…I…"

Moon could say no more. The pressure proved to be too much for her, and her will to live simply gave out on her. With one final breath, her existence had been extinguished. Kristov removed his boot from Moon's back. Suddenly, the two men turned their attention to the girls, who had just witnessed the horrific, frightful, painful massacre right before their very eyes.

"So," spoke Yuri with everlasting glee. "Who wants to die next?"

End of Chapter 5