Lexi's S(kills)

Lexi dropped her blood-stained knife to the ground, hearing it clutter onto the concrete as she sank against the brick wall with a sigh of exhaustion. This particular job had been messier than usual due to the victim's buff muscles - she made a mental note to use a better grip on the next one. Next one. Her thoughts drifted for a few seconds, wondering like she often did if she would ever stop these serial murders. . . not that she wanted to, of course! The men she targeted deserved all they got; she had more than enough proof of that - it just wasn't the type of proof that would hold up in court. "AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Lexi shot upright, blind panic shrouding her eyes for a moment before she focused on the figure standing about five meters down the alley from her. It was just a kid, probably no more than 13 from the look of it. He was currently mute with shock, his eyes straying back and forth between the man on the ground and Lexi's tensed-up figure beside it. Lexi held out a pacifying hand. "Woah," she said, "calm down, I promise I'm not gonna hurt you." Which, from the looks of things, was a pretty dumb thing to say when there was a random dude lying slashed across the throat at her feet with his blood all over her hands. Anyway, the kid seemed to think so. Her voice must've broken him out of his trance and reassured him that he wasn't dreaming. At any rate, he turned tail and bolted out of there so fast Lexi almost admired it. Key word almost. Right now, she was too pissed at the untimely interruption in her carefully laid plans to think of anything but cuss words. * * * First thing to do: bolt. Something she promptly did, (pausing only to take a trophy pic of the lifeless figure on the ground) before following the map of directions laid out through memorization in her head. She'd planned out her escape route with the same amount of care she'd planned the job with - although when she did so she'd assumed she would've a good amount of time to get away. But it turned out, that wasn't the case. And pretty soon, only a couple of minutes into her getaway, she realized she had a problem. A very serious problem. For either the google maps on her phone were seriously outdated or she'd gotten the directions rather messed up, because instead of stepping into a busy downtown plaza she was facing what looked like to be a kind of dingy apartment building. For the second time that day, panic welled up. She couldn't afford mess ups and sure as hell not two right on top of one another. She leaned her forehead against the brick and took a deep breath, then, her senses back to full alert, she scanned the options. Admittedly, there weren't many: a closed steel door in the side of the building, an ancient-looking fire escape -and back the way she'd come. She chose the steel door. Bad decision. Really bad decision. Five precious minutes and a blunt penknife later, all she'd managed to accomplish was a few dents on the side of the lock (in other words, nothing). She'd already ditched her bloody gloves and gray jeans through a sewer hole which had conveniently been placed right above the fast-flowing river which flowed under the city and back out to the ocean. Hopefully the items would never be seen again, or if they were, with her DNA washed clean. But while the bloody gloves she'd expected and planned for, she'd made the mistake of assuming the rest of her clothing would escape. . . something she was currently regretting as she stood there in nothing but skimpy red boy shorts and a black tee. . . Another big reason why she didn't wanna be caught at that exact moment. And then, of course, right on time, sirens sounded. They were close, loud, and did nothing to appease Lexi's apprehension as she struggled to make a decision. She couldn't remember where the other alleyways led off to and to try would most likely end in disaster. The section of the city she was in was like a maze, surpifcly designed for the lawless. Used often for handover deals, betrayals and, of course, murders, which was obviously why she'd chosen it. Soooo, that just left the fire escape. Lexi gritted her teeth in frustration, prayed to the goddess for protection and started it up with slow, steady steps. The railing was rickety, and the steps were practically eaten through with rust and shook beneath her feet. It wasn't until she was halfway up that a thought came to mind, saying she did manage to enter the room - who was to say it wasn't already occupied? Lexi swallowed hard, spat over the railing for luck, wished on the moon goddess for luck, and continued up the stairs. * * * The room was dark, which she supposed was to be expected, but it didn't have the musty smell you usually came across in old, uncared-for buildings. She carefully shut the window behind her, it had been easy to open, just an old-fashioned clasp holding it shut from the inside. Once fully in, she dropped to a crouch and slipped behind a desk standing off to the side. She still wasn't sure whether she was alone or not and didn't exactly relish coming face to face with some disgusting drunk in a bleary post-club haze. The place was silent. Eerily silent. Slowly she rose to her feet and started forward. She held her useless penknife in front of her as a defense means - not that it would do much good if she actually needed to use it. There were three rooms in total, all furnished with plain but nice pieces, certainly not the quality she'd expected to find in a dump like this. Just as she was heading back out of the bedroom she'd been checking out, a closet caught her eye, and she was vividly reminded of her rather indecent appearance. With a feeling of freedom at having the place to herself, she skipped over and swung it open. Her jaw dropped. Leather. Guns. Metal Chains. Total Gangster Vibes. Good goddess, what the hell had she gotten herself into this time? * * * Lexi surveyed herself critically in the bathroom mirror. Black jeans, a black singlet with a weird symbol on the side, a leather jacket and a chain draped around her neck for good measure. Oh, and one of the handguns laying on the sink beside her. She had zero idea of how to load it, much less use it, but she thought should bad accelerate to worse, she could just pretend. Although she was fairly confident she wouldn't be interrupted, the fridge was empty, suggesting that anything kept in there wouldn't be used. Also, the pantry had only unopened packets of dry food and everything had absolutly layers of dust over it. She deduced from all of it that it was only used probably as an emergency hideout, by whatever gang or circle owned it. Lexi checked her watch; she'd been here an hour so far, and she was getting bored. She sighed, thinking longingly of her phone. She hadn't dared to bring it with her in case she lost it, and the cops found it. (hence the memorized directions). Gravel crunched outside. Lexi tumbled off the couch in a fright. With a feeling of dread, she picked herself off the floor and darted to the window, peeking carefully around the side. "Holy shit." she breathed. A van was parked just in front of the steel door and a bunch of beefy guys were unloading themselves out of the back. Lexi's throat squeezed shut. Of course, her mind yelled at her. Of course, that one time you used someone else's hideout would just so turn out to be the one time THEY needed to use it. She glanced down at herself, clad in their clothes, probably their gang symbol and in their safe place. Yeah, she was cooked.