[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/73/af/f4/73aff4dc63164e1c0dffb40d0ec04f19.gif[/img]
[b]Location:[/b] [i]The streets, always so dark at night.[/i]
[b]Event:[/b] [i]A junkie tries to find her fix.[/i][/center]

Two many small groups, too many individuals. This wasn’t good enough, she needed more, needed another [i]nest.[/i] She pressed down on the pathetic bastard’s ribs, heard his sharp intake of breath as pressure was applied to cracked, broken bone. 

“Stop, stop, I’ll talk!” he whimpered, still trying to squirm out from under her. She pressed down harder. “I promise! Please! Please…!” He was practically on the verge of sobbing, his face glistening with moisture. 

She leaned down, hissing in his ear through her mask. [i]”Where?”[/i] It wasn’t going to last forever, and picking on smallfry like this was wasting time.

“Englewood Apartments,” he wheezed, one hand grasping weakly at her foot. She kicked it away and placed it back on his ribs. “That’s where we were taking them, but I don’t know if they’re still-” The goon’s words cut off with another sharp intake of breath as she kicked him one last time in the ribs, hard, before vanishing with a [i]thp.[/i] 

[hr]

Bodies already lying on the street outside? She had competition, then. She glanced up toward the roof, considering a repeat of the previous apartment, but… Nah. Let’s greet them properly. Energy sang sweet opera through her body, and she vanished again, reappearing inside the first floor of Englewood. Three masks ahead of her, then an instant later she was ahead of them, visible just long enough for a brief glance at the trio over her shoulder. 

[i]“Race ya.”[/i]

Then she was gone again, her prey waiting on other floors.