Blood & Roses

The ballroom shimmered beneath the glow of a thousand golden lights. Crystal chandeliers bathed the grand hall in a warm, inviting glow, masking the darkness that lurked beneath the polished marble floors. Women twirled in gowns of nothing less than silk and fine thread lace, their laughter and chatter blending with the elegant notes of the orchestra. Men, draped in wealth and power, whispered among themselves, their voices a low hum beneath the music. The dance floor is full of love and excitement of glory and money. Tonight, was a celebration-at least, that was the illusion of it. What the people didn't know is that they are dancing for the new joy or more like the disappointment of their god is going to die tonight. Sivana Vale knew that this dance was for the soon to be dead. Sivana would come back for the rest of these people soon or later if death doesn't get them first, that is. Most of these people are little crime starters, others could change their ways, but others might have to die first before reconsidering the option of ending all evil. Sivana would walk up the marble stairs, entering through large wooden doors, her black curly hair blowing through the breeze, her brown eyes wandering around the room, looking at all the people having the joy of their life. Sivana's dress is black, going down her feet, turning into a black ocean of waves, the dress hugging her body perfectly and elegantly. A silver mask concealed part of her face. Stepping into the ballroom, smelling the stench of the people being drunk, sweating, and the mixture of fragrance of the female and males. Walking around the ballroom she looks around for her target through already corrupted officials, elite criminals, and the wannabe criminals. This man built an empire on blood and fear. Lord Vincent Roarke. A well-dressed monster in the appearance of a gentleman, Roarke had spent years weaving himself into the city's underbelly, hiding behind wealth. Feeding the corrupted government with all the wealth he had collected over the years to keep them hushed. His crimes are endless-trafficking, murder, extortion. His crime blossoming because of the corrupted government, his rose granting him the power beyond that of an ordinary man. Sivana was nervous, waiting, looking up at the clock, watching the time tick slowly and painfully. The time had to be right for the strike. What if he was ballroom dancing? How would she not get caught? The loudness was also making her nervous, showing that their eyes are everywhere, the laughing, the chatting, the endless movement echoing in the room. All too much for Sivana but she couldn't afford to fail. This would be her only chance to get this man she hated for so long. She drifted through the room, forcing herself to blend in with the crowd, forcing a smile on her face when guests passed by, nodding politely when spoken to. Which wasn't very often because no one wanted to talk to someone who looked like they were exploding nervously. She accepted a flute of champagne, though she had no intention of drinking it. Even though it was kind of noticeable she was nervous, she made sure every movement was calculated, every expression carefully controlled. Sivana Vale isn't the hunter exactly. She was simply another guest at the ball. Silky Bennet is who she is here, a young woman who kills people for fun. When thinking to herself, she had a slight chill going down her spine, something or someone was looking at her or more like watching her... It wasn't paranoia-she was certain of it. A presence lingered nearby, close enough to set her instincts on edge. A voice, deep and smooth as velvet, interrupted her thoughts, snapping her back into reality and making her not as nervous. "May I have this dance?" Sivana turned around, meeting the gaze of the man. She didn't know who this man was or even why he would ask to dance with her. Sivana analyzed the man's appearance, he was tall, dressed in a sharp black suit, tailored to perfectly fit his form obviously. His dark brown hair slicked back, revealing a striking face. His sharp angles on his face would soften only by the faintest hint of amusement in his icy blue eyes. His eyes were so icy blue that it was almost scary to look into them, it was like reflecting your soul through his eyes. Then the mask, covering most of his face but the lower part of his face would hint at a scar, going up to his face, maybe? There was something unsettling about him. Something dangerous. Yet, when he extended his hand, she took it. Token to the dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and they moved in perfect time with the music. His grip was firm yet effortless, guiding her with the confidence of a man who had done this many times before. Sivana followed her own steps lightly and practiced, though her mind was elsewhere. Sivana would smile through the pain of not refusing the man of the dance he asked for. She felt so dumb to even accept something like this. She wanted to stay in the shadows but here she is dancing with a random guy she doesn't even know and now she is in the spotlight. But something about him had caught her off guard. "You don't seem like the kind of woman who enjoys these events," he mused, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. Sivana kept her expression neutral. "And what kind of woman do I seem like?" He smirked. "A mystery." She laughed softly, though no real amusement reached her eyes. "Mysteries can be dangerous." His gaze darkened, though the smirk never left his lips. "I've always liked danger." There it was again-that feeling. The sense that she was dancing with someone far more dangerous than he let on. She should have walked away. The music swirled around them; she found herself caught in the moment. The final notes of the waltz faded, and Sivana gracefully stepped away. "Thank you for the dance," she said, offering him a polite nod before slipping through the crowd. She didn't look back. She couldn't afford distractions. Lord Roarke was her priority. --- Weaving through the ballroom, she made her way toward the grand staircase. From there, she would have the vantage point she needed. Her plan was simple: wait for the right moment, strike swiftly, and disappear before anyone realized what had happened. As she ascended the steps, her fingers touching the soft petals of her roses, feeling the power radiate off of them, feeling the roses slowly turning into weapons. Below, the ballroom carried on, blissfully unaware. But Sivana knew-by the time this night was over, blood would stain the floor. The private lounge above the ballroom was dimly lit, the flickering glow of the fireplace casting long shadows across the luxurious furniture. Sivana stepped inside, the sound of distant music muffled by thick velvet curtains. And there he was. --- Lord Vincent Roarke sat on an ornate leather couch; his back turned to her as he swirled a glass of whiskey in one hand. He had known she was coming. "I was wondering when you'd arrive," he said smoothly, his voice calm, unbothered. "You dance beautifully, by the way." Sivana narrowed her eyes but said nothing, taking a slow step forward. Her roses turned into the weapons she needed. The purple rose became a dagger, and the peach rose turned into another small weapon. Roarke exhaled a small laugh. "Do you know how many have tried to kill me, Miss Vale?" She unsheathed the Purple Rose's dagger, its edge gleaming in the low light. "Not enough." A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "That's where you're wrong. Every assassin, every so-called hero, they all come with the same purpose. And yet, here I sit, alive." "Not for much longer," Sivana said, her voice cold. Roarke took a slow sip of his whiskey, savoring the taste. Then, he set the glass down beside him and finally turned his head slightly-just enough for her to see the smirk on his lips. "You think killing me will change anything?" he mused. "The city will still rot. Crime will still thrive. The Roses will always control us." "Well, at least I can get one scum off the planet..." Sivana sighed softly. Without hesitation, in one swift motion, she drove the dagger into his back, twisting it deep. Roarke tensed but didn't scream. Instead, he let out a slow breath, as if he had already accepted his fate. Then, he spoke his final words. "You think you're different," he murmured, his voice weakening. "But in the end... you're just another piece on the board." Sivana leaned in close, her lips near his ear as she whispered: "Then let me show you how the game is really played." She yanked the dagger free. Roarke slumped forward, his body falling still. Sivana stepped back, her heart steady, her expression unreadable. She wiped the blade clean, turning toward the exit. The music from the ballroom carried on, as if nothing had happened. As if the world hadn't just changed. With one final glance at the lifeless man behind her, she disappeared into the night. Tonight, justice had been served. But the real game was only beginning.