Murderess (PG-13)

[Grace Gunness]

((Ask First. It's PG-13 for a few gruesome details.))

Grace Gunness, thin and pale looking against the moonlit sky, crept along in the shadow's that the huge buildings provided for her. She was like a werewolf - afraid of the daylight, yet afraid of the night as well. That was what drove her onward. Fright. As she looked up ahead of her, she saw what she had been waiting for. The weaselly little man that had deprived her of her home. He was loaded with money, and pride, and made the mistake of crossing the most dangerous female in the United States. He took away her home - the only stable thing that she and Calvin had. In return, His life would be taken from him tonight.

The thin, elegant young woman took after her grandmother in more ways then just her thirst for death. Her grandmother had been a magnet for men. She was a beautiful blonde woman with an extremely curvy body. That was what summoned the wealthy men to her, for her to use and then dispose of - taking with her, their money. Grace had the beautiful face and the curvy body, but she had inherited her grandfather's dark hair. Grace used her beauty to her advantage.

The man kept looking behind him, as if he knew he was being followed. Grace darted in and out of alley ways to be sure she was not seen. She was curious to know why he was leading her to the center of Queens, where the biggest tree in the world was found. That proved to be his destination. Grace watched from behind a building, feeling the weight of the small kitchen knife that had been sharpened to a thin slab of jagged metal, hanging from a thin chord around her neck. It was protected by a leather slab around it, which protected her as well. It was tucked inside her shirt, nestled safely between her breasts.

She watched the man get down on hands an knees at the base of the Queens Giant, and begin to dig under the largest root. After a few monotonous minutes, she saw the glint of coins and heard the rustle of dollars as they were shoved into the hole. Now was the time to act.

She darted in and out of the buildings until she was behind the tree and out of sight of the man. She let her hand slip down the neck of her shirt and pull the covered blade out. The faintest sound of metal sliding against leather made her eyes narrow, and soon the silver glow of the blade was visible. She positioned it just right in her hand, so that her strike would be swift and painless. Painless for her at least. She moved to the side of the trunk, and stopped. She whipped her head around at the sound of a twig snapping close to her. A bird? Maybe...Maybe not. She proceeded.

She was almost directly behind the hunched over figure of the little man. She knew what she would do. She would plunge her blade into the back of his neck and twist. That would kill him. But then she would proceed with her trademark beheading. It was gruesome, but if sliced just perfectly and with enough strength, the head would come clean off and her work would be almost done. The one thing that set this bloodthirsty murderess apart from other killers, was her habit of hiding the heads that she cut off. It was a disgusting detail, and her stomach convulsed at the thought. She had done it so many times before, that she had simply learned to endure it. By doing so, she kept her grandmothers legacy alive.

Pulling away from her disturbing thoughts, Grace raised the knife above her head, so that she could get enough force for it to break through the bone. She lurched forward, intending to bring the blade down into the back of the man, when she was pulled mercilessly backwards, behind the tree. Her arms were pinned behind her and the knife fell from her hands. She felt defenseless, and her attitude was murderous.

[Mike D. Greaser]

The smoke twisted and turned in little circles. He took another long drag and breathed it out. The taste of the nicotine relaxed him and he took another drag. Carefully, he rolled the stick in between his fingers. Mike wasn't a big smoker; he usually only had them when he was stressed. But lately, he'd had at least one a day.

Mike sighed and leaned against the building behind him. It was around one in the morning and most of New York was sleeping. He was tired, but he didn't want to go to bed. His mind was too full. There was just to much to think about for him to settle down and sleep. Every time he lay he his head down to sleep, he would find himself thinking about something. Then he would have to get up and write it down. That was the only way he could think of to get it off his mind. But he was running out of paper and he really needed a smoke.

So, here he was, leaning against a dirty wall in middle of the night, smoking a cancer stick. Yep, this is what Mike D. Greaser called relaxing. Sighing once more, Mike slouched against the wall. His clothing was now covered in dirt, but he didn't care.

Suddenly, a man walked by Mike, not noticing him leaning on the wall in the shadows. He looked like he was up to something and Mike immediately got curious. He flicked his cigarette to the side, eliminating all light from where he sat. He watched the man closely, holding in a chuckle. The man was creeping along the streets, looking behind him like a rabbit being hunted. Mike chuckled throatily and shook his head. What had he gotten himself into?

From the corner of his eye, Mike noticed a young girl darting in and out of the alley's. If he hadn't been watching, Mike would have never noticed her. She obviously didn't want to be seen. And she was very good at it. Mike pushed himself off the wall, curiosity getting the best of him. Carefully, Mike crept along the street, staying in the shadows and out of sight. He followed the two until the man stopped. Like a well oiled machine, the girl crept behind a tree and stopped as well. She copied the man's every move, careful not to be caught.

She reached her hand into her dress and pulled something out. Mike furrowed his eyebrows, creeping closer to her. He wanted to she what she had. She pulled out a knife, Mike saw it glimmer in the moonlight. He smirked and creped closer to her. This should be interesti-

He stopped and cursed himself. He'd stepped on a twig. He dodged behind a tree and hoped against hope that she hadn't seen him. She was the one with the knife after all.

Satisfied that she hadn't seen him, Mike peered around the tree. She had turned back to her work and was inches from the man. Mike quickly and quietly walked toward her. Just as she raised the knife, Mike made his move. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, causing her to drop the knife. He pulled her behind the closest tree and covered her mouth with his other hand. He had her now. She was defenseless. If she made one wrong move, he would twist her arm farther behind her back and probably break it.

"Don't move," he whispered gruffly into her ear. To prove that he had full power over her, Mike twisted her arm painfully. He willed her not to scream out and pain. If she did, the both would be caught by this man. Thankfully, he finished with his work and with one last look behind him was on his way. Mike didn't let the girl go, though. Instead, he waited a few moments, seeing how she would react.

[Grace Gunness]

"Don't move,"

The little man scuttled away and Grace felt a wrenching pain in her arms. She gritted her teeth, but did not cry out. She would not give this, man, the satisfaction. She thought about the hissing voice, and the strong grip that held her. His voice had come from above her head, so she could tell that it was a tall man. This was not what she needed.

Realizing just where her hip was compared to this man, she thought about using it to her advantage. It would be fighting dirty, but who didn't fight dirty in life and death situations? Grace always fought dirty. But then, she realize with utter contempt, any sudden moves from her would make him wrench her arms again, and probably seriously injure her. She would not go down that path. Yet.

She whipped her head around as far as it would go. She wanted to see who it was that held her. She needed to know, then revenge would be sweet. She caught the slightest glimpse of dark hair. He smelled like smoke. His skin had been pale in the moonlight. He wandered around at night. These were all good mental notes that Grace kept in her head, if ever she would be needing to find him again after tonight.

"What brings you out this late, sir?" she asked smoothly. She kept her eyes narrowed and her brow in a frown. Her sarcastic voice had come out sweetly, like an angels, not like someone who had just gotten caught trying to thrust a knife into someones back. It didn't suit her personality. She showed no sign of fear, and felt none. She could handle herself, she was sure of it.

[Mike D. Greaser]

(I am so sorry this took so long. It has been crazy lately)

Squinting his eyes, Mike focused on the slowly fading silhouette of the man. He was creeping, or more waddling, away from the scene. Mike held onto the girl tightly, willing her to stay quiet for just a few more moments. If she made a sound now, well then they both would be in trouble. Who knew what the man had inside of his jacket. He could have a gun or something of that sort. Thankfully, she stayed quiet. If she didn't, Mike was willing to make her shut up.

"What brings you out this late, sir?"

She whipped her head around, trying to catch a glance of the man that held her. As she did this, Mike took the chance to size her up. She was a small girl; she reached to just below his chin. Even in the pale moonlight, Mike could she her attractive features. She had beautiful, long hair and shinning eyes. But the thing that caught Mike's attention the most was the knife that now lay a few feet from them. It glimmered in the moonlight and reminded Mike of the damage her could do. He cringed. What was she doing with that knife? Well, that much was obvious, but why?

"Oh, just walking around, looking for murderers to catch," Mike replied, sneering. He put extra emphasis on the word "murderers". Truthfully, her felt no resentment towards her. He was completely intrigued by her. The fact that this tiny girl had the guts to come out alone in the middle of the night was intriguing enough. But she was going to kill someone! Mike smiled at this thought. It had been a very long time since Mike had found someone that could make him think.

"What about you, love?" Mike released her and shoved her away from him. If she was going to fight him, then Mike would let her. It had been a long time since he had gotten into a good fight.

{{That was bloody awful. I'm sorry. I just can't think tonight}}

[Grace Gunness]

"Oh, just walking around, looking for murderers to catch,"

Grace seethed inside. She was not caught...She could not be caught. He merely had a hold on her. What she wanted most at that moment though was to sock him. Sock him good and hard. Or stab him. One of the two. Whichever became available first, she reckoned. Her eyes darted shamelessly to her knife that glowed on the ground in the moonlight. It was calling her to it. She wanted it back!

"What about you, love?"

Grace cried out inadvertently when he threw her forwards. He had wrenched her left arm in doing so. Her left arm now felt numb and lifeless, just hanging by her side. Oh no, no, no, this was bad. Her left hand was what she liked to call, "Her Knife hand". It was the hand that she did everything with. She was a lefty. Now her life support was hanging lifelessly by her side.

"I think its none of your business what I was doing...Unless you want to end up just like he was going to end up." Grace said threateningly. She knew she was in no position to make threats with her arm mangled, but that wouldn't stop her. She would merely use her Right arm. In two swift movements, she kicked up some of the mulch that surrounded the base of the tree, high enough so that it would get his face, and darted towards the knife.

She snagged the tip of it, but missed it. The only thing she managed with that maneuver was giving herself a nice little cut on her finger.

If she wanted to win, she would need her knife. She was only a girl, after all. She was significantly smaller than this man, and he looked pretty well built too. If she wanted to win, she would have to use the one thing that she was good at. Murder. Every fight with her was a fight to death. This one was no exception.

[Mike D. Greaser]

"Ithink its none of your business what I was doing...Unless you want to end up just like he was going to end up."

Mike pursed his lips and crossed his arms, leaning against the tree. "Is that a threat?" He blinked twice and then yawned, not at all worried about this girl. If she tried to jump him, Mike would take her. In fact, he welcomed it. Mike hadn't had a good fight in a very long time, and with a girl no less. And she seemed like a good fighter. By the way she handled her and the way she knew when to fight and when not to fight. She obviously had done this before. Mike knew he would have to watch himself.

As if on cue, dirt began to swirl around him. She had used her foot and stirred the dirt. Mike coughed and stepped back, trying to get out of the dust cloud. Coughing a few more times, Mike rubbed his eyes and growled. She thought she could get away from him. Taking step to the right, Mike lunged at her. He could barely see her in the night light, but he could at least see her form. As soon as Mike felt his hands touch her skin, he pushed his whole weight into, intent on knocking her down.

If she was gonna fight, Mike would fight her and he wasn't going to hold back.


(Sorry... that was bad)

[Grace Gunness]

"Is that a threat?"

"Its a promise." she said smoothly, her eyes narrowing threateningly.

After diving for her knife, she could feel the faintest touch of his fingertips on her forearm, and then the impact came. The wind was knocked out of her as his whole weight came pounding into her side. She had been in a similar situation before, and on instinct, reached out and grabbed him so he would come down with her. She was thrown onto the ground, landing on her back, and her mangled arm still limp beside her. She had pulled him down with her, and he was half way on top of her.

She banged her knee upwards, hoping to hit him, and began to squirm, trying to get out from under his weight. She needed her knife if she wanted to win this fight - but it had been lost in the shuffle - and the dirt had covered its moonlit glow in the darkness.

Why did she get herself into these situations? She knew it was her own fault. Who was this guy anyways? He seemed to be a lot like her...Grace would win this fight - she was sure of it. She had never come out of a tough situation without some sort of injury or loss, but she was still alive wasn't she? She always manages to get out of tricky situations that she puts herself into, but sometimes only by the skin of her teeth. She would get out of this one too - no matter what.

((HAHAHA I couldn't resist..."Its a promise."...HAHAHA))

[Mike D. Greaser]

"Its a promise."

Mike smirked at her quick wit. Finally, a girl that threatened him both physically and mentally. For the past few weeks, the girls that Mike had met were either quiet and submissive or couldn't fight to save their life. Of course, their were the select few that actually gave Mike a run for his money. This girl was beginning to fit into that category.

She had pulled him down with her, and he was half way on top of her. She banged her knee up wards, hoping to hit him, and began to squirm, trying to get out from under his weight.

Mike grunted as her knee came in contact with his groin. Why did girls always have to do that? Instead of throwing himself off of her and squirming in pain, Mike bit his lip and stayed on top of her. He had the sudden urge to punch the girls pretty face, but controlled it. She could play dirty, but he wasn't going to. He wanted a fair fight.

After the pain subsided, Mike noticed that she had begun to struggle underneath him. He wasn't going to have any of that. Besides the fact that this girl was half the size of Mike, she was also weaker. Mike grabbed her wrist and pinned them above her head. Straddling her, Mike sneered at her. "That wasn't very nice..."

[Grace Gunness]

"That wasn't very nice..."

"Damn right it wasn't." Grace spat. "Thats about as nice as I get. Don't expect a fair fight." she warned him, "I fight to win." her words were seething with hatred and disgust of her situation. He pinned her wrists, and straddled her so that she was pinned. She was in a bad position. Sure, he had her pinned, but what her attacker hadn't taken account for though, was her legs. Her very female, flexible legs.

What she didn't consider though, was that her legs were trapped inside her skirt. It was thin material - easy to tear, but it was also her only good skirt left. What mattered more to her though? Her skirt? Or her life? In one horrific 'RIP', both of her legs went straight upwards towards the back of his head. After that, she twisted her middle where he was sitting, so that her hip bone rammed into his crotched.

Being bony had come in handy in many occasions. When you were given little to eat, you became that way. When you fought, it was like you had built in weapons. Who needed a club when you had your elbow? Who needed a knife when you had your nails? There were definitely perks to being a bony woman.

Grace was beginning to worry about how this fight might turn out after all. She was a woman. A small woman. A girl. He was a man. A large man. Both of which were used to this sort of thing. It was like to equally skilled people fighting. It could lat forever. Should a truce be made?

"What do you want from me?" she asked hotly, narrowing her eyes to glaring slits.

[Mike D. Greaser]

"Damn right it wasn't. Thats about as nice as I get. Don't expect a fair fight."

Mike narrowed his eyes for a moment. She was a dirty fighter. Did Mike respect her for this or not? He really could not decide. He respected her character and the fight she had inside of her. If fighting dirty was the only way she could take care of herself, than Mike knew he respected her. He found himself smiling as he said, "Well, lets get on with it then." He winked at her. He was trying to make her upset and make her lash out. Mike wasn't even sure if she could see his smug expression.

In one horrific 'RIP', both of her legs went straight upwards towards the back of his head. After that, she twisted her middle where he was sitting, so that her hip bone rammed into his crotched.

Mike inhaled sharply and clenched his teeth together. He rolled off of her and groaned. He stood up, trying desperately to ignore the pain. Without warning, Mike lunged at her and threw a right punch and then a left uppercut. One of those was sure to get her. No more mister guy.

"What do you want from me?"

Mike looked at her for a moment, fist clenched at his side and his chest heaving. After a few moments, Mike glanced down at the knife that was to his left. Never taking his eyes off of her, Mike reached down and groped for it. When his fingers felt metal, he immediately inclosed his hand around it. He pulled himself back up, still staring into her eyes. Carefully, so not to scare her, Mike held out the knife to her. "I want you to kill someone for me."

That should throw her for a loop. Bloody, Mike was throwing himself for a loop. He didn't even know who he was going to kill, he just knew that it was needed. Mitch was talking about having a hit man on hand; someone to have just incase we needed someone gone without any evidence. This girl was as good as any, right?

{Muahahaha, take that }

[Grace Gunness]

"Well, lets get on with it then."

Grace involuntarily shuddered. It was not from fright, nor was it from the cold. It was a shudder of anticipation. Her body was ready for something dangerous.

He rolled off of her and groaned. He stood up, trying desperately to ignore the pain. Without warning, Mike lunged at her and threw a right punch and then a left uppercut.

Grace squirmed backwards, jumping to her feet as fast as her ripped skirt would allow her to. At the same time, she ducked as his fist came flying dangerously near her head, but was caught in the stomach with his other one. Her knee's buckled and she sank to the ground, clutching her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her, but her brain was still at full speed ahead.

The next thing that happened took Grace off guard. She was expecting a fight, and what she got was a bargain. He was holding out her knife to her.

"I want you to kill someone for me."

Grace knew better than to trust someone who was willing to fight dirty but then was all of a sudden willing to give her the weapon. It was a stupid thing to do. But, he said he wanted her to kill someone. That was what she did. It was her lifestyle.

"Who might that be?" she asked, her eyes glinting with mistrust. "You better watch your answer, or it could be you." she added in a deadly whisper.

[Mike D. Greaser]

Grace fell to the ground, taken aback by Mike's hard punch. Instead of taking advantage of her, Mike took a step back. His hand flew to his head that was now throbbing. His chest rose and fell with each shaky breath that he took. This girl was a lot faster then Mike had thought he to be. She had definitely given him a good fight. Mike bent over and placed his hands on his knees. She had gotten him good. Mike gave them both a few moments to catch their breaths. But if she was ready to fight again, then Mike would be ready as well.

"Who might that be? You better watch your answer, or it could be you."

Mike hesitated. Who did he want her to kill? Truthfully, Mike didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to find someone to kill a Brooklyn boy and frame Manhattan. They already had the Manhattan part down, Bella was taking care of that; but they needed someone to kill the Brooklyn boy. Grace seemed perfect to Mike and the epiphany had hit Mike while he was on top of her only moments ago. But the exact person, he did not know. Would she know what a Brooklyn newsie was? Mike glanced at her and studied her in the moonlight. She dressed like a newsie, but didn't everyone?

Mike sighed and finally said, "A newsie," he said simply. Hopefully she would take it at that and not question him. Then Mike thought about the pay. Would she do it for free? Was she the kind of girl that would just kill for the fun of it? Or would she want some sort of pay. That proved to be a problem. But Mike pushed that thought aside; he would find someway to pay her.


{That was not very good ehe}