[hr]
[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230310/74eb28d2a3c7617e792a13aa8e035a89.png[/img][/center]
[hr]


Seated in the chair beside the window was the one person she absolutely did not want to know she was in town. His yellow eyes scanned her like a predator would prey before pouncing. Annabelle desperately wanted to shrink back but she might be able to talk her way out of this. At least she thought, until she gave the man a once over and noticed her mask, the one she used when she was working, in his left hand. He raised it up in response. [color=fff79a]“You really buried this deep in your stuff.”[/color] He waved it around before setting it on the table next to the chair and crossed his legs. 

Annabelle had no choice but to play along. She had no clue what this man knew, it was unlikely he knew she wanted to kill him. That she probably could if she was fast enough with her pistol, but was she willing to risk missing and then needing to flee the island so quickly after arriving.Composing herself she settled into her work mode and she gave him a sweet smile. [color=6ecff6]“The famed Albert Regal, to what do I owe the pleasure?”[/color] She asked in a sickly sweet voice, one she used when she was getting close to someone to learn her target’s patterns. 

[color=fff79a]“Famed? Darling, don't flatter me. I can’t be [i]that[/i] well known. You on the other hand, I have heard plenty about, you are quite well known in the circles I frequent.”[/color] He stood up and walked toward her. [color=fff79a]“Such a small thing has such a…high body count. They say you never fail a job.”[/color] He was sizing her up, but why? Did he know? Did he think someone paid her to kill him? Was he just terrorizing her for the sake of it? Annabelle couldn’t tell. 

[color=6ecff6]“Well I haven’t failed yet.”[/color] She responded, trying hard to make sure her nerves weren’t heard in her voice. [color=6ecff6]“You seemed to have dodged my question, to what do I owe the pleasure?”[/color] Her fingers twitched, yearning for the pistol at her side, if for nothing else but the comfort of the cold metal. He frowned at her insistence. It seemed he was fond of games.

[color=fff79a]“I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Though now that I get a good look at you, I seem to recognize you. You grew up here didn’t you?”[/color] He didn’t wait for her to reply before he continued. [color=fff79a]“Ah yes, how could I have not noticed right away. You look just like him, the red hair, blue eyes. You were Victor’s daughter? Annabelle right?”[/color] A sick grin spread across his face, making Annabelle’s heart drop into her stomach. [color=fff79a]“He would be proud of you, making such a name for yourself.”[/color] 

It took everything she had in her not to yell at him to stop talking about her father like they were friends. She barely managed to hold her composure as he circled her. She sucked in a breath and clenched her fists, an action she was sure did not go unnoticed by the vulture circling her. [color=6ecff6]“We will never know how he feels, will we?”[/color] She replied between clenched teeth, and Albert finally stopped circling. He stopped directly in front of her lifting her chin with his index finger so that she was forced to look him in the yellow eyes. Annabelle could have sworn for half a second his pupils were slitted like a snake’s but it was likely her own eyes playing tricks on her through the rage. 

[color=fff79a]“You aren’t here for revenge are you?”[/color] It wasn’t a question, even though he worded it like one. It was a statement, maybe even a demand. He held her gaze waiting for her to respond. Deciding if he liked her answer or not. 

[color=6ecff6]“I am not here for revenge.”[/color] She answered blankly. It wasn’t a lie, not fully at least. She was not [i]currently[/i] here for revenge. Hopefully he accepted the half truth, hopefully he didn’t see through it. 

Time seemed to stand still but eventually he released her chin and smiled at her, a genuine smile, not the partially sinister one he had been giving her since she walked in. [color=fff79a]“Good, then please, enjoy your time on my island and should you wish to stick around, I could make an opening for a sharp shooter such as yourself in my ranks.”[/color]  He emphasized the ‘my’ in that sentence and, if he thought she was lying to him, he didn’t indicate it. 

He didn’t stick around for her to respond. He turned to open the window fully and stepped out of it like they weren’t on the second floor. Though she didn’t hear the impact of shoes against the pavement below, instead her ears were met with very light flapping of wings. Of course that’s what happened. He had been following her in is stupid bat form and had entered her room through the gap in the window she had left open for Jazz. Speaking of the bird, where was he? She looked around the room noticing the raven was mysteriously missing. She would leave the window open for a little while longer, while her shot nerves relaxed, and if he didn’t turn up he would be sleeping outside.