Blood & Roses

Blood And Shadows

It wouldn’t be long enough that she had to start her day, the day of fighting evil and crime with one stone.

Her day would start with her being in a dimly lit office, the smell of cigar smoke lingering in the air. The man in front of her, average height, dressed in some casual wear, leaned against his maple wood bar. His fingers drumming against the polished wood. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried the weight of authority.

“Dante Varros,” he said, sliding a thin file across the bartop. “You know the name. You know the price.”

Sivana took the file, flipping it through, revealing a photograph of a man in his late 20s. Sharp features, cold eyes, brown skin, and tattoos all over his body. The dossier detailed his movements, security, and the reason for his impending demise. A crime lord with too much free time and influence on other smaller criminals.

“He’s careful,” the man continued. “Surrounded by muscle at all times. But there’s an opportunity tonight. He’s hosting a gathering at one of his safehouses. Security will be tight, but not impenetrable.”

Sivana studied the information carefully, already calculating her approach. She has dealt with these types of criminals before, but since he is popular with the younger group, they would definitely come and help him if he was in danger, leading her to die and failing.

Which wasn’t an option.

“What’s the catch?” Sivana looked at the man in front of her.

The man smirked. “Besides the obvious? One of his men-Jonas Veyne. A highly-trained military officer personally oversees Varros’ safety. If anyone’s going to be a problem, it’s him.” His voice turned serious from his normal voice.

He leans in a little closer, patting her shoulder, lifting her chin up a little higher. “Silky Bennet got this, she always does, until you are ready to attack.” He chuckles, before standing up, grabbing a mixing cup, and starts to drink.

Sivana thought about it for a moment, knowing it was going to be difficult. Taking the picture of the man she had to hunt for and the address of the safehouse, she tucked it in her jacket pocket. “Consider it done.” Sivana stood up from the cushion seat.

“That’s my girl.” The man chuckled.

“Also, Azazel.” Sivana started to head out the door.

Azazel would look at Sivana with a hint of amusement.

“Don’t touch me again…” Sivana frowned at him. Azazel would laugh before throwing her a bottle of alcohol. A shot worthy.

---

Sivana was able to make it into the safe house, dressed in all black to keep low, baggy black jeans, an oversize black hoodie, and she was good.

The safe house was stone and steel, as if it used to be a factory of some sort. It nestled on a land that no one goes towards. It was so cursed if anyone stepped on it, and death to everyone who had come here. Which part of it was true, since she would be the grim reaper to carry out this so-called curse.

Sivana was able to slide her way through the perimeter guards and scale the side of the building. She was able to enter through an unlocked second-floor window, her rose gripped in her hand.

Sivana didn’t think about it very clearly until now, this is going too smooth, too smooth for her personal comfort. A heavy silence filled the space, something unnatural about the stillness.

The air seemed stiff, no movement until now…

She looked behind her but as she did, her body instinctively moved out the way of whatever she was looking at. Which was a good thing her body did, because there was a slice through the air, where her throat would have been split open.

She looked at the dark figure that stood way too still, reminding her of a statue that only attacks when not being looked at. She knew though, that statues don’t hold weapons in their hands, at least the ones she saw before.

The man stood before her, his stance steady, his grip firm on a serrated combat knife. His expression was unreadable, his intent was clear, very clear.

“Who sent you?” he whispered, circling her like a predator. “Varros has a lot of enemies, but you… you’re different. More dumb than the other’s…” He scuffed.

Sivana didn’t say a word, just movement, lunging at the man. Her peach rose turning into a short blade in her pocket. Their blades clashing in a burst of fury. This man was fast—brutally efficient—but Sivana was faster. She twisted, using his momentum against him, sending him crashing into a nearby table.

But he recovered instantly. A gun appeared in his hand.

Sivana's eyes would widen, barely having time to react, she dived behind another desk. She threw her dagger knowing it was a risky move, but it made the man have to dodge the attack.

She used the distraction to close the distance between them. Using her purple rose, which also turned into a dagger, their blades clashing, fist bashing, bodies slamming, it was a brutal battle.

The battle had to come to an end.

“You must be Jonas, the ex-military soldier.” Sivana smiled softly, blood dripping down from her mouth.

A sharp pain bloomed in her side, Sivana gasped as Jonas’ knife found its mark, cutting deep, just below her ribs.

It was one thing about Sivana she didn’t quite know, even if the odds were against her. So, she slammed her knee into his guts, using the pain as her power, driving her own knife into Jonas' shoulder. He would grunt, staggering back. “You just don’t know when to die, do you, Vals?” The man snickered.

Sivana looked at the man, holding her two weapons. She smiled weakly before retreating. “I’ll be back.” her voice echoed into the dark room.

She would be clutching her wound, she forced herself through the corridors, slipping into the shadows before reinforcements arrived. She barely made it outside before the pain became overwhelming. Her vision blurred, her breath shallow, but she kept moving, disappearing into the night.

---

Sivana would stumble into her hideout, a small abandoned loft she had claimed as her own. She locked the door behind her, leaning it as her strength gave out from traveling for so long.

Blood stained her fingers as she pressed against the wound, forcing herself towards the bathroom. She grabbed a first aid kit, biting back a scream as she disinfected the wound. Her reflection in the cracked mirror stared back at her—pale, exhausted, yet still alive, for as right now.

She exhaled shakily, forcing herself to focus. This wasn’t over.

Dante Varros was still breathing, and his little sidekick was too.

And that was a problem she intended to fix.

Sivana went to an old-looking bed that didn’t look too good to sleep in, but it was better than the floor. She sits down, wrapping herself in gauze, before lying down, her eyes shutting once again, but this time, she didn’t know if she was going to wake up this time.