And yet another....

Chapter 2ish


Pulling into the large garage she hopped out of the car. Running towards the winding black staircase she caught Frank on his last step.

"How long," she asked the nerves evident in her eyes?

Something had gone wrong. She was soaking wet, shaking in small convulsions. Hesitating he handed her the cream folder, "30 minutes." Nodding dutifully she took the folder and turned, her wet hair spindling out behind her. She ran down the three flights of stairs, the light dimming with each level she reached. Running down the hallway, gasping in pain, she closed and leaned against the heavy marble doors that led to the all too familiar room that was made of the same heavy grey and white marble. Running over she turned on the white polished sink putting her red hands under the cold water. With silent sobs racking her body, she writhed her hands together. She watched as the color ran off to the waters safety. It would be safer there then on her hands, better there then in her frigid body. Splashing water on to her aristocratic face she looked up to the mirror. Suddenly reeling with pain her body doubled over. Grabbing a hand to her stomach she looked down, watching as she peeled the red off of her torn jacket and onto her hand. Looking up at her pale, sweating face, she knew this would be the last time she would see that same face and be free. Traitor. Peeling off her jacket she watched as the blood soaked into her black camisole. Inching out of her soaked clothes she popped into the shower, gasping as the warm water, rich with shampoo, hit her wound like burning salt. Within minutes she was out and wrapped in warm, fluffy white bathrobe that had replaced her damp clothing, glancing over her shoulder with a sardonic smile when she found the thread, needle, medical tape and scissors that had been hidden lumps in the pile. Walking into the shower once more, she pushed open the right wall that doubled as a hidden doorway. Silently walking down the mahogany floor she came to the opening at the end of the hallway. The room changed to a white tile. The room generated a bluish light from somewhere. A light that seemed to put a trance on the room from a ceiling that moved like flowing waves and pushed water down the sides of the walls. She felt the water start to gush over her bare feet, moving towards a drain in the center of the room, away from her, it ran away from her too. Assassin. Walking over to the high chair by a sink she placed the creamy file onto a tile table and watched as a large hand grabbed it, replacing it with a hair dryer, scissors and dyes.

“Back so soon my dear,” his well-known voice echoing off the walls, his hands twisting and playing with the ends of her curly, raven hair curiously. Smiling, she turned around towards his voice, “You know better, now sit down.” She could hear him rustling through the file examining the pages as he picked up the scissors, suddenly stopping. Walking over he removed the dyes from the table next to her and walked over to a small work table. She could hear the clipping sounds of his scissors, the gentle hum of his voice. She watched as she saw bits of hair flowing into the water towards the drain under her chair. Within a few minutes he was back, grabbing her hair once more, stabbing her scalp with pins.
“So, tell me my dear, do you ever expect to see yourself in that mirror,” his voice the same mocking tone. Pausing he laughed wickedly, “No, you didn’t recognize yourself today, did you? You haven’t for a long time. Tell me did you see him there? Do you see him in you? Because, I do,” his voice slowly needling into her thoughts, undoing the newest stitches of her brain.

“You’ve known all along then,” her voice a horse, demanding whisper.

“Oh, my dear, of course I’ve known. I know a lot more then you’d imagine. Though tell me, I am curious to know how you got that,” he said a gloved finger coming into her vision delicately touching her side. She could see the wonder in his voice, feel it in his finger. Pausing again at her silence, he slowly moved his hand fixing her hair, into its final place. Clamping his hands over her eyes he moved in front of her. “So much your brother,” pain sinking into his voice. Circling around to the back of her chair he lowered his hand, tightening when hers caught his, “Don’t pity me, never pity me,” she said power radiating around her body. Just as quickly she let go of his hand, her eyes flickering dark brown as the light waved through the room.

“Good luck then,” he trailed off.

“Andraya,” she said, “Andy”.

Smirking, he nodded and was gone.

Slowly she slipped out of the chair and back down the hall to the great marble room she had showered in. On the counter laid her newest clothes, a travel bag, and a mini back-pack. Slipping into her grey hoody, dark blue jeans and brown flip-flops, she reached and unzipped the small travel kit. Pulling out a contact container she put in a pair of crystal blue contacts. Glancing into the mirror she pulled her straight, cherry-brown hair layered hair that reached her shoulders into a messy, athletic-looking pony, put a bit of color on her face and then put a bit of mascara on. Rolling her eyes, she opened a cabinet and dumped the makeup into it. Standing back up she felt a pain in her side. With a sigh she grabbed the makeup and dropped it into the travel case with an icy glare. Pulling her side-sweep bangs up to the side, she laughed as she pulled out an iPod and placed it into her ears. Turning it on she placed the travel kit into the small back-pack and walked out of the room listening to an infusion of country music. Running up the black staircase she went up an extra level to the lobby.


Sitting on the couch she rose when Frank entered the room.

Looking over at her he looked confused, “May I help you miss?”

“Sure, I need my plane ticket Frank,” she laughed as his eyes widened.