The knife slid from her hand smoothly, slicing through the air and embedding into the target that just so happened to be a picture of some chauvinistic pig whose name currently escaped her. Henry was intensely satisfied when the knife tore through the big, bald head. The woman was tense and antsy, she hadn’t been able to work lately and she was starting to feel unproductive; she hated that feeling. She was itching to be out, killing sinister things. But no…she’s in her parents’ basement, throwing darts at a crappy picture. The situation could have been a tad bit better if she was allowed to practice at her apartment, but the neighbors had a problem with noise. Biting her lip, she threw another knife and it accidentally slipped, barely nicking her finger. Cursing under her breath, she picked it up and threw it harder than she had previously. Her phone began to buzz like those flies that you can never see, but you always hear. 

Jumping, she prayed for a mission or anything! She unlocked her phone and the awaited message was staring back at her. Now, she will never admit this to anyone if they asked, but she squealed in excitement at the prospect of a new case. She quickly threw on clothes and boots before stomping her way up the stairs and to her vehicle. On the ride to the coffee shop, her fingers drummed eagerly on the wheel and her leg trembled with ecstasy. She had so much energy to burn; she was praying that it would be a good fight. She pulled up and parked the car into a spot before thrusting the door open and tripping out.