How do you kill a snake? You cut off its head....
She stopped the car at the front of the grand hall. An idiotic idea of a structure designed for the rich to parade their illegal salaries in front of the poor. Anyone not partaking in the business was poor in their eyes. Not necessarily in terms of money no, these people were rich in power. Not that the rest of the world and the ridiculous political bystanders work any differently. No. Money was a piece of paper, the value was useless. It is the hand that holds it who determines its worth.
The absurdly large shadow made of brick and concrete glared down at her. She could not care less. Her head was held high, her dress elegant and classy and her posture held strength. The crimson carpet pooled in front of the entrance and sat idly waiting for another soul to pass it by. Champagne material dragged along her curves and laid dragging behind her steps.
The air was tainted with the life the city holds. The smell of piss, unclean people and toxic vehicle fumes was the aromatic scent that was all but too familiar to her. The smell was horrendous and yet she ignored it, a declined call from a stranger. A stranger who was once a friend, but somewhere along the line the number laid waste amongst the rest. Useless and unnecessary. A blank canvas. Faceless and nameless.
Her steps guided her towards the front entrance of the building. A mahogany door stood at its post and held out its golden hands for her to hold. As she pulled it open a gust of wind sent a chill down her spine and the sound of classical music surrounded her ears. Her dark hair is secured in a high ponytail and her jewelry surrounded her arms and fingers. Gold painted her skin like the veins and cracks of a marble sculpture. Her tanned skin a beautiful contrast against the subtle light of the full moon.
She walked down the hallway towards the ballroom and the music graciously increased its volume. The sound knowing her approach is near, gathered up its courage for the welcoming of a new guest. The walls shrunk away as she entered the ballroom and her eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light within the room. Interior from a different era and music for a different generation embraced her frame. The chandeliers hung casually from the painted roof.
Her fingers danced along the balustrade of the Quartz stairs as her nude stilettos balanced her every move. The eyes of the room were all on her as she stepped on the dancefloor used for the art of dancing. The music continued its melody while its recent listeners became bystanders admiring a painting. A walking portrait of elegance painted by Garmash.
She did not care for the eyes of empty and snobbish faces around her. She only cared for one and they were glaring right at her from across the room. A suit perfectly tailored for his frame seemed tighter than usual. The air surrounding him seemed hotter and the blood seemed to settle on his face. His hands held fury but his eyes held fear. He had an unexpected visitor. Someone he wished to forget. Memories he wanted to throw along with Alice in her rabbit hole. But it seems Alice never fell and the hole laid waiting.
A wicked smile was etched on her face as she stared down at the man before her. Her head tilted slightly and her eyes focused on his increasing heartbeat. Her knives could slice the air in the room. Her bullet would pierce a sound barrier holding nothing but meaningless breaths of the selfish. She would do the world a favour. A favour of ridding it from the rat's infestation.
"Aww. You mad already? I havent even said anything." Cunning. That was what she held in her eyes. Her lips resting around her teeth, edging the corners of them. She looked like a vampire staring at its next meal. The irony was that he was indeed her meal of the day. A prey she has been starving to kill for far too long.
Her steps were agonizingly slow as she walked towards the towering figure before her. The bodies around her seemed to retreat the further she walked. A wave opening up a path towards her victim. Her gaze and confidence parting the red sea. Except the sea exists from monsters and her destiny was to kill their master.
Her smile vanished and her hand withdrew her gun from her holster. The slit on her dress stopping just underneath her thigh strap. A hidden treasure of death. No one would have seen it. No one would have dared to question the beauty. If only they knew the angel long but fell from heaven. Her wings clipped and tainted with the blood of her enemies.
She held the gun to the man's head. "You know you were right. All that training would save my life one day. You were just too naïve to believe I would never use it against you."
She pulled the trigger and he fell to the floor before her. The room was engulfed with screams. More men and women surrounded the screaming foes, all with the same predatorial smile etched on their faces. The sounds of their weapons echoing inside the room. Bodies fell and blood pooled.
She only stared down at the forgotten burden before her. No remorse as she stared at the lifeless eyes and gaping hole in his head. She threw her head back and opened her arms. Her smile genuine as she listened to the screams of past traitors and the abominable. People ran but soon reached their demise while others fell to their knees begging for the mercy they do not deserve.
She reached to her cleavage and pulled out a cigar. She slowly lit it up and took a long drag, feeling the toxins entering her lungs. The death around her finally came to an end and the others simply stared at the slaughter before them.
She reached for a broken glass on a nearby table, still filled with champagne and brought her hand to the air. A celebration. A toast.
"To my father, he who never believed his own kin would beat him at his own game. May he rest in hell where he belongs and drag his hoard of demons with him to Lucifer." She spat and poured the drink over his body. She flicked her cigar onto him and watched as he took flame.
She swiftly turned around and walked back to the entrance. As she stopped at the very top, she looked down at the massacre. With her palm resting under her chin, she admired the flame engulfing the former guests of an impractical structure. The others that came with her smiled and graciously admired their work along with her. All of them the daughters and sons of an anarchy that was bound to fall. The new generations that separated themselves from their parents who long but sealed their own fates.
No one here caring about destroying the pyramids of their ancestors built on slavery, death, drugs, weaponry and greed. None of these people cared for those lower than them. They did not care about the others that walked on this earth. Their children ultimately ending their demise and their tarnation of poisonous propagandas.
As they all turned and left the structure finally burning to where it belongs. A building of ash, whisked away by the wind. Never to be heard from again. The heads of the snakes were cut off. The new generations of mafia stood casually leaning against their cars, watching as the orange flames wrapped the building in its clutches. Fire brigades stood waiting, never moving an inch until they were certain the whole structure burned to the floor. Their only need was to ensure the surrounding buildings were not dragged along the fate of destruction.
The streets were empty and the police made certain that no innocents will take part in this plan. Their eyes should not be stained with the gruesome reality of life. The hundreds of cars owned by the children of the deceased slowly disappeared as the building became more of a memory. They all finally free from the claws of their parents.
She took her heels in her hands and leaned her head on one of her friends' shoulders. Her eyes blazing from the light emitted before her. An orange glow surrounding them. A warm hug from an autumn morning. The crackling sound of the fire, music to their ears.
"Pesni Oseni."
Autumn Songs