The Story Weaver.

PARIS, FRANCE A taxi halted in front of a huge black gate surrounded by wire fencing. A little girl, wearing a black hat and sunglasses, jumped out of the car, her small toes hidden in black boots, clutching a pink traveling bag in her left hand. "Thank you," she said, paying the driver, who quickly drove away. "What a wierd girl" The old taxi driver thought as shiver ran down his spine. "Salut, Papa (Hello, Dad)" She smirked, comparing the picture in her hand to the gate in front of her. "Mom, you finally got a real detective before you died!" She smiled, revealing her white teeth. She hummed a tune as she walked confidently towards the gate. KNOCK! KNOCK!, She banged twice, and the door opened to reveal a huge, tattooed man smoking. "What do you want, kid?" he asked, and she scoffed. "Connard! J'ai huit ans" (You asshole! I'm eight), she cursed in French. He frowned at her. "Got a bad mouth, huh?" Without replying, she pushed him aside and continued walking into the compound, which consisted of two buildings. The Fuard watch in awe watching her leave. "Maybe she's the daughter of one of the higher dons. A pool party was in full swing, with people smoking, drinking, and engaging in raucous activities. She ignored them and headed towards the first building, heavily guarded. Her instincts told her that her dad would be there, given the music coming from that direction. She stood before the guards, took a sharp glance, and used her keen senses to observe the surroundings. The building was shrouded in darkness, lit only by eerie red lights. Tables were laden with drugs in bulk: cocaine, excess aspirin, Colorado, cigarettes, and alcohol. Guns were brandished freely, and the air was thick with menace. She saw deadly men - gangsters, hired killers, drug lords, and mafiosos - lounging in the building, their presence exuding danger. "Who cares?" She thought. She is just here for her dad." A group of guards approached her, their eyes narrowing. "Who do you seek for? What do you want?" one of them asked, his hand on his gun. She ignored them, walking confidently forward. "Stop there!" another guard yelled, stepping in front of her. But she didn't halt. With a swift motion, she tossed their guns aside, her small hands moving with surprising speed and precision. The guards were caught off guard, unsure how to react to this tiny, fierce intruder. [Haha 😂.... sorry] Moving by his instincts, the suprised guard watching from afar fired a shot, but she dodged it with a swift double flip. She landed with smooth balance, she dusted off her tiger-print jacket, unfazed. "I'm only eight," she scoffed, throwing her traveling bag at the guard and knocking him unconscious. Everyone froze, pointing their guns at her as the music continued to play in the background. She smirked, undaunted, and kept moving forward. The bodyguards readied their guns in fear, but a fair-haired man intervened, shouting "Halt!" He approached her, squatting to her level, and smiled, though a cigar dangled from his mouth. She rolled her eyes and knocked the cigar away. "Watch your manners in front of a child," she scolded. "I see..." he laughed, clapping his hands together. "I am here for my dad, Sebastian Avocado, well known as 'Grimnir,' in the dangerous world, he was named after the Norse God of War," she declared. "He's the owner of this mansion and the leader of the 'Altavis Gang.' I did some research." She continued, "He impregnated my mom nine years ago. Her name was Morgan, known as 'Hel,' the Norse goddess of war." She smiled, handing him a white envelope. "Judging from your appearance, you are him... So, Mr. Grim, this is for you. My mom is late, actually, she passed away last month, but she gave me this letter to give you if I finally made it here." He fell onto his butt, taken aback. "How did she die?" he asked, swallowing hard. "Brain tumor," she replied, her expression unchanging. "I'm so tired, I'll be in my room. Pardon my manners, Bonjour Papa!" She winked at him and walked towards the other mansion, her small feet pattering against the floor. She was determined to find his room, which would be theirs starting today. She didn't dwell on why her mom left her dad. Who cares? As long as her dad was the rich and powerful mafia leader she had always wanted, she was content. A sly smirk spread across her face as she disappeared into the mansion. "I hope it's all fun..."