Oichi bit her lip as she heard someone moving through the mansion, searching…waiting. Why so loud though, she wondered? A proper assassin would be silent and methodical, not loud an announcing themselves…which meant one of three things. Either this assassin was a fool and unexperienced…which begged the question was he really an assassin at all? Or maybe it meant this assassin wasn’t actually trying to kill her, but rather trying to send her a message…in which case, she would be sure to send a most appropriate reply back….along with his head. But more likely…he was confident.

During her time in America, Oichi had learned much of the confidence that bordered on arrogance in American people. There was this subtle boast in everything they did, from how they walked to how they talked. It stood to reason that even their silent killers would be rather prideful in their actions, and thus frighten their prey.

“Idiot.” She spat. “Baka wa shinanakya naoranai.” Her father had said this to his subordinates many times. It’s meaning was well known among her family and among her associates. It was one of the most direct and fierce phrases she could bring to bare against this foolish assassin. “Unless an idiot dies, he can’t be cured.” It was a death sentence.

The man wore a mask over his face with only his hair and eyes showing. He had a pistol in his hand and a hunting knife strapped to his belt. His clothes were a one piece zip up suit and a pair of latex gloves. He was meticulous…careful…and always able to cover his tracks. It’d been that way since he was young. It started with ants in the backyard…then it progressed to spiders…then a few birds that he could catch. After the family dog, killing became an art for him. It was no longer the doing it that thrilled him, it was the fear they felt. He remembered the look in Goliath’s eye…the look in that poor St. Bernards face as he stuck a knife between his ribs. The fear in his old eye…the pain…the delicate sensation of those little emotions washing out and over him with the last breath of air.

Death…

Death was art. Killing wasn’t just an act, it was a sensational experience of divine purity. You relieve the subject of all they are…and all they ever were. In a sense, you expel their soul from their bodies and provide permeant peace to them…a peace they can’t know otherwise. And in exchange, you understand them in their last moments. You feel their suffering and betrayal. The pleasant feeling of their warm skin turning cold, their eyes glazing over, and the satisfaction as they cease struggling ever so slowly. With each new kill, he became more and more in love with these sensations.

Of course being paid for his work was always a bonus, and when he saw the check arrive and a note for who to hit? His heart soared. It’d been too long since he’d killed a woman. He’d gotten a little too excited and broken a window coming in, but that was fine…it would add to hear fear. Add to the terror in her heart as she knew something came for her. Which he would feel as he slit her throat.

Yet, something was wrong with this house. Something was terribly wrong with it. A house and its décor can tell a lot about a person that lives in it. He used to enjoy taking his time looking at family pictures, potted plants, and family heirlooms, appreciating the simple lives his victims must lead. But here, in this fine house with dozens of heirlooms and artifacts and portraits, there was a coldness. The mansion felt cold and it did not stink of fear or discomfort. There was no sound of weeping or trembling. There wasn’t even the cries of someone on the phone begging police to come. There was only silence…a cold and dead silence. She had to be home; he’d watched her enter her home. But it was like the house was empty.

No…not empty…there was a presence here, but it did not fear him. How fascinating. What person was this? What emotions would cross her face as he took her life? With cautious steps, he moved deeper into the tiger den.

It happened so swiftly that neither Oichi nor the stranger were prepared. The killer rounded a corner towards Oichi’s bedroom where Oichi was waiting. The moment he saw her, he fired once, but it was low, like he wasn’t aiming for her head. Oichi hissed in pain as a bullet grazed her hip, but she didn’t stop as she instantly rushed forward, a sword in hand. It had belonged to her father, and she’d taken great pains to have it brought into America. She plunged the sword deep into the strangers side who grunted with pain. With a snarl, he kicked back and knocked her back, but with a hiss of furry, she rebounded and swung down, slashing a sizable gash into the attackers shoulder. He buckled and stumbled away, aiming and firing again. Oichi gasped in pain as she felt the red hot pain of a bullet pierce her stomach. She dropped to the ground, groaning and resisting the urge the howl in agony. The attacker kicked her in the side to roll her on her back, and Oichi fell back, breathing fast and trying to calm herself. The attacker smiled at her…a pained but sadistic grin.

“I like when they fight.” He whispered in a hoarse growl. “The feeling of pain…the feeling of defiance. You’re very brave. Now you can start screaming.” He climbed on top of Oichi and held his knife over her throat, ready to puncture it. But he had to wait…he had to see it. The defiance needed to die and give way to panic…the fear of death…the little and subtle twitches as she tried to calculate all the joys and miseries of existence…the art was not complete without the terror. He waited…and waited. “Go ahead….you can scream….scream for me!”

Nothing…

Her eyes…her eyes showed not even a trace of fear. They were the eyes of a predator! The eyes of a huntress. This feral creature he sat on top of…it would not bend. He felt a wave of anger at this and pressed down on the knife, expecting her to react…where was the fear!? Why wouldn’t she shrink back!? What’s going on?!

“What the fuck….” He growled, his hand starting to tremble. They were always afraid…all of them were afraid of him. Why did she glare at him like that!? WHY WON’T SHE SHRIEK FOR HER LIFE!? “FILTHY USELESS WHORE!” He roared, raising the knife to finish her.

*POW, POW, POW*

Three bullets lodged themselves in the attackers chest and stomach. He groaned a moment, shocked at the sensation, and then fell backwards on his back, clutching his bleeding torso. As Oichi climbed to her knees, the gun she’d hidden by her side smoking still, her eyes flashed bloody hell fire, and the attacker felt a wash of fear run through his veins. He wasn’t facing a woman….he stood before a tigress….a hungry, ravenous beast.

“As you finish urinating on my floor,” Oichi spat, “listen to what I tell you…and know that you do not have my permission to die.”

“F-f-fu-”

“I intend to treat your injuries…so that I may inflict new ones…and I will watch you suffer. I will take pleasure in observing you moan and squirm like a worm on my hook. And, at last, when you grow so used to the pain you start to enjoy it, I will make you suffer yet again by cutting off your head, and ending your wretched, meaningless, life.” She lifted the tip of her sword and stuck it….ever so slowly…into his crotch.

“Now…you can start screaming. SCREAM FOR ME!”

When Marcus arrived at Oichi’s home, there were ambulances and police cars with sirens wailing, but none as loudly as the bloody man they were carting into the back of the ambulance. Marcus didn’t give him a second glance…he looked horrific and not like anyone he knew. Instead he focused on the one medical crew helping a young woman into the back of their truck. He rushed to her and, seeing that it was Oichi, he gasped in horror.

“Oichi!? Miss Taiga, what happened!?” She grimaced and shook her head.

“I promise, I’ve seen worse. I was…careless.”

“Is it anything we should be worried about? I’ll ride with you.” He offered.

“Don’t bother.” She answered quickly. “I need you to contact our associates. See the damages we sustained from…what happened.”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about, but clearly it can wait.” Marcus grumbled. “This is far more devastating. Why didn’t you kill that man?”

“Whoever hired him needs to be found. I want him alive, Marcus.”

“…I’ll do some digging, and see what I come up with.” He assured her. “Is there anything else?” Oichi paused a moment in thought and then her ferocious eyes that always seemed to crave blood softened…a melting expression came on her face.

“Todd doesn’t know…”

“Todd?”

“The officer I’ve been dating. Please…um…could you pass on the news that I’ll be unable to meet him tomorrow night?” Marcus’s concerned expression faded.

“Do it yourself. Won’t he think it’s odd if I pass this information for you?” He asked.

“That’s a good point…and I’d really like to visit him. Think he’ll come see me in the hospital?”

“Boss, with all due respect…your relationship with that cop is insanity.”

“Your point is noted, Marcus. Thank you.” Oichi growled as she was finally lifted into the ambulance and the doors closed behind her.

Candidate Issac Young sat in his campaign office, accepting calls, both negative and supportive. He felt relaxed…calm. Things were going his way now! In a single rally, he’d gathered a few dozen votes and also managed to take care of all the problems that were riding his shoulders…one specifically that he’d been concerned about since he forged that agreement with her. Now that should have been dealt with. He’d be getting a call any time now from….

*RING RING*

With a smile, Isaac checked his phone and answered, trying to hide his excitement.

“So, it’s done?”

“It’s done alright.”

The voice froze his blood. It curdled his guts. Isaac nearly dropped the phone he was holding as his hands began trembling violently. How did she get this phone?!

“M-Miss Taiga!?”

“I hate politics…and I hate politicians. I knew you’d betray me at some point, but I admit I didn’t expect you to pull a stunt like this. I congratulate you on crippling my industry significantly…you set myself and my associates back quite a bit.”

“Miss Taiga, I-I don’t think I know what you’re talking abou-”

“But see, it seems you made a slight mistake.” Oichi continued, cutting off Isaac. “You entered into a battle of wits…and you came unarmed. What was your plan? Did you think that just killing me would bury the Taiga Syndicate? Even if your little coup did work, did you think your new drug cartels would just quietly disappear into the ether and not demand of you the same things we have? You played with fire, Mr. Young. You were very stupid.”

“Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement!? You’re a reasonable woman, Miss Taiga.”

“You have nothing I want, Mr. Young. You’re of no more use to me.”

“That’s not true! If I’m elected, I can-”

“Elected? Mr. Young I don’t think you understand your situation.” There was a long cold pause on the other end of the line. “You’re such a fool. Killing you would be a mercy.”

“Y-you’re going to….NO! No, don’t kill me! I’ll-”

“I won’t kill you, Mr. Young. I don’t need to. There are better ways to break a man. Like the testimony of a known psychopath who received money to kill an innocent woman from a mayor candidate? Evidence of known under the table pay outs to crime families and syndicates to secure votes? Killing you simply ends your suffering. I intend to drag your name, your reputation, your family, and your whole world through the mud….and THEN….THEN I will bless you with death.”

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL FUCKING-”

“You already tried that, Mr. Young. And you failed. Now you will pay for your error. If you have any nerve in that worthless brain of yours, you’ll go ahead and throw yourself off of the roof of the nearest building and end it quick. Otherwise, I will not be so merciful.”

“Please…PLEASE, Miss Taiga…d-don’t do this to me! I BEG YOU!”

“You’re a fool, Isaac Young. As my father would say: There is no cure for fools except death. How long will you live with your illness before you cure yourself, Mr. Young? You be the one to decide.”

*click*