Thread: Walking the Line (Razgriz and Beautiful_Disgrace)

Once the last man was dead, Adrian worked quickly. As much as she'd love to pull out a cigarette right now, she had to gather her spoils and leave. Her gunshots weren't exactly quiet, at least not from her Glocks. The police would be all over the place soon. So she holstered her third gun and then began to collect her spoils. The Colt M1911 really sent chills down her spine when she picked it up, but she wouldn't have a chance to run it over her skin until later. Safety first, Adrian made sure all of the safeties were on as she didn't need anything to discharge in her bag, not that it was very possible they would. She'd rather be safe than sorry though, and it only took a second for her to flip the safety on each. Her bag was now half filled with guns and any ammunition she could find. Though she did make an effort to rob these men, pulling out their wallets, taking the cast and placing them all back where she found them meticulously. Of course she was wearing gloves to cover up any evidence. A quick scan of the area told her there was nothing else she'd fine of value, so she slipped out of the building and then took the ally ways back to her new hideout. If anyone spotted her while she was covered in blood, she'd really be putting herself in a tough spot. She didn't kill innocents, only people with gang or criminal affiliations. So if a civilian spotted her she'd just have to hide herself extremely well and hope for the best. She had only been at risk of getting caught once, after that she learned from her mistake and it never happened again. It also helped that she had pretty much been pronounced dead after all these years of hiding. Adrian was a ghost, a missing girl on a seven year old milk carton. No one knew she was alive and she'd prefer it that way. She got to her hideout, a studio apartment in the not so bad side of town. She didn't really want to deal with coming back and having her collection of guns stolen from her. She hid them very well, kept them locked up and everything, but still. Adrian always had this paranoia, especially when it came to her fathers Glock 20. She hadn't used it in ages, it was fire power she really didn't need most of the time. Still, it was the only thing she had left from her family and she would never part with it. Adrian set her bag of spoils on the floor and stripped off her clothes. For this particular operation she had chosen a white button down blouse and a skirt. An odd choice, but that's what she felt like wearing. She didn't need anything fancy other than the utility belts and holsters for her guns. Other than that, she could wear anything to a murder spree and not give a shit. It was just going to go in the wash anyway once she was done. She threw the bloody clothes in the machine and then carelessly poured some detergent in, turning on it on immediately. If she let the blood just sit in her clothes it would stain, but the detergent she liked was excellent at getting blood out. Once that was done, she stepped into her shower and then watched as the blood of her enemies trailed down her body and circled the shower drain. A small smile came across her lips as she remembered the look of terror on their faces. Grown men. Grown, gangster men all pissing and shitting themselves upon seeing 5'8 Adrian place a gun up to their head and pull the trigger. She couldn't blame them. Adrian was sure she looked like the devil himself when she got into those moods. Once she was completely clean, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped her towel around her body. Walking out to the living room, she turned on her TV and flipped to the news channels. Ah, so they were already covering the story? They really had nothing better to report...