Light from the computer screen reflected in Lilith’s eyes and illuminated her face, turning her already pale skin an ethereal white. She was reclining in her comfy office chair, typing furiously on her computer keyboard. Music blasted into her ears as she successfully hacked into an investment company, and then tweaked the system so that several thousand dollars were diverted to one of the bank accounts she had made under a different identity. Too bad she wouldn’t be able to use that alias anymore, when they find out - if they find out. She wiped her trail and checked her email. There was only one, from a gunsmith who had bought one of her designs and was informing her that he wouldn’t be able to pay her until next month because he didn’t have the money yet. Bullshit, Lilith had hacked into his system, did some quick calculations, and he had about double the amount needed, stuffed away in a safe. Complete shit-for-brains for recording the thing on his computer and forgetting she was a freaking hacker. 

Getting up, she washed her face and brushed back her pitch-black hair, sweeping it back into a ponytail, and grabbing a baggy black hoodie to wear over her gray t-shirt and navy jeans. Under it she fitted two metal plates with straps over her heart, in case of a fight breaking out, and grabbed a modified Sig Sauer P238 fitted with a silencer and a switchblade. She then put on her combat boots and steeped outside, walking towards the alleys. She could climb, and with the cops that have been about lately, she’d rather not risk her chances. The apartment building wasn’t far from the gunsmith’s house. She used a fire escape to jump to the next roof, a pub, which was, judging from the noise inside, was watching a game. It didn’t really matter to her, as she was busy climbing down a roof a building away from the asshole who thought he could skip out on paying her.

A minute later, the fat, pale-faced man was cowering behind his counter, his white wife-beater soaked with sweat. The few hairs on his balding head were matted down on his forehead from perspiration, and the Sig Sauer Lilith had brought was pressed up under his chin. The aforementioned was leaning slightly over the service counter, her blue eyes flashing. “I told you I don’t have the money!” He yelped waving his arms around frantically, “I swear I’ll pay you next month!” Lilith growled.

“And I swear that if you don’t pay me now, you’ll get a bullet into your brains! Really, I’m a hacker, and you saved a file on your computer with information of your earnings. Not to mention the computer you have is an old model. Did you really think that you could hide from me?” The man shook his head rapidly. “I’ll get the money for you, here!” He ran to a framed painting of a rifle, an M1 Garand used in World War II. Lilith snorted. It was behind a painting, cliché much? He then grabbed the correct amount and shoved towards her. She carefully examined them. Satisfied, she thanked the gunsmith for his cooperation, and then walked towards the door. The man’s watery gray eyes narrowed, and he grabbed a pistol and aimed for Lilith’s heart, then fired. The bullet bounced off the metal plate on her back, and it alerted her. She immediately spun around and fired a bullet into the man’s arm, who howled in pain. It wasn’t life-threatening, and even though Lilith hated leaving loose ends, she let him go. After all, once she got home she would be sending out false information to her clients that he was a spy for the police. The others would either kill him outright, or stop buying from him. Either way, he’ll die.