Might be somewhat disturbing to some people… I guess. Only people that are completely and utterly sheltered from the blood-soaked media. Its called Crimson Hawk, for lack of a better title.
She stepped out of the bathroom, a thick hotel towel wrapped around her. She unwrapped the towel, using it to dry her hair as she walked to the mirror. She got dressed slowly, only half an hour left. Finally, as she pulled the tight red dress over her head, she heard a knock at the door.
“One minute,” she called in her high, clear voice. “I’m almost ready.”
She quickly arranged the dress around her slim waist and brushed out her long, silky black hair. She left her makeup sitting untouched on the bathroom counter along side a bottle of hotel-provided shampoo. She preferred looking natural, she was pretty anyway.
She slipped on her shoes, picked up her purse from the bureau and opened the door to see the driver of the limo she had hired, ready to escort her to the parking lot.
“Oh, you’re early,” she said.
“Its across town, miss. We wouldn’t want to be late.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. She couldn’t exactly say she was looking forward to this.
They rode the elevator to the first floor, and as they walked through the lobby to the waiting limo, she caught the stares of men, following her out the door.
The driver opened the rear passenger door of the car, waiting for her to get in before he shut it. She watched the buildings go by as they slowly navigated through the downtown traffic, the rooftops many meters above her head.
They parked in the back, in an empty parking lot reserved for the restaurant’s more important patrons. She hopped out of the car, not waiting for the driver to open the door for her. Her heels made a click clack, click clack sound on the pavement.
“What is this place called, again?”
“It’s the Crimson Hawk, ma’am, it’s the most prestigious restaurant in town.” He said, “I’ll be waiting here when you’re done.”
Click, clack, click, clack into the restaurant. She scanned the tables, seeing Vladimir, the man she’d come to meet. She walked towards him, past the suit-clad waiter asking if she had a reservation.
Vladimir stood as she walked towards him, looking her over. From her silky hair to the long, dark red dress and the black heels.
He kissed her on the cheek when she reached him.
“Anya! Its good to see you. I take it your trip here went well?”
She sighed inwardly, small talk, she hated it. She just wanted this to be over. They talked about his work, and her recent trip to China. They talked for what seemed like years, until finally the food came. They exchanged comments about the food, and later the desserts, until finally it was over. They both stood, each waiting for the other to speak first.
“Its been so nice talking to you, I hope we can arrange another date some time?” She lied through a false smile.
“Of course, that would be lovely, I’ll call you tomorrow. Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“Oh that would be wonderful.” Her smile was genuine this time. She took his arm as he led her out to her car. Click, clack, click, clack. As they reached the car she dug into her purse, closing her hand around the smooth , comfortable form.
She pointed the gun at his head, grinning at his short-lived terror, and pulled the trigger. As she put the gun back in her bag, she noticed a small spattering of blood on the tinted window. She wiped the blood off with her finger, staring at it as she walked around the car. There stood the driver, calmly holding her door open for her. She licked the blood off her finger and ducked into the car.
“Back to the hotel, if you would.”
The lack of indentation is quite annoying. I should blow it up. I’ll fix that eventually, aka make my Mom fix it. Constructive criticism is welcome, since I know this story is incredibly cliche and not partiularly well-written.
