Post by vera on Dec 8, 2012 20:07:56 GMT -5
[/style][style=width: 386px; border-top: 1px dashed #bbb;]
[style=width:350px; font-family: josefin sans; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: -1px; text-align:center; color: #000; line-height: 80%; text-transform: uppercase; padding-bottom: 5px;]VERA SABINE BEAUMONT
CRIMINALS. TWENTY TWO. ESCORT/ASSASSIN. CUNNING. RUTHLESS. COQUETTISH. VIOLENT.
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,386,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width:130px; height: 200px; background-image: url(http://i48.tinypic.com/msj97o.png);][/style] | [style=height: 180px; overflow: auto; font-size: 9px;]my ears are filled with the sound of my pulse, drowning out the pleasantly classical music being played by the band hired for the occasion. i can't find him. i know no one can see the gun under the dress; it's strapped to my thigh, the cold metal pressing up against my skin. swiping a crimson lock of hair behind my ear, i glance over to where drinks are being made, scanning the crowd and wishing i could murmur into my earpiece without being compromised. "four o'clock." the earpiece crackles as if reading my thoughts, and my eyes comply, sweeping to my right. there he is - seymour richmond, the mayor of boston, who also just so happened to be supplying the russian mafia. a confident purse comes over my lips, and i grip the clutch closer to my stomach as i slip invisibly between guests at the gala, dressed to the nines. they look nowhere near as good as i do. he is talking to a middle aged couple, and i'm glad i don't have to worry about interrupting - he is expecting me. richmond unsuspectingly hired me as an escort for the night, though the party is almost over. on cue, his eyes turn to me, and he smiles smugly as if satisfied with himself. i almost want to double over with nausea, but i know that i'm supposed to elicit this response. the black dress is open all the way down to my belly button, thin straps carried over my shoulders to bear my entire back, and then extend in silky waves to the floor. loose enough at the thigh for a powerful pistol. i swivel around when i reach him, facing the couple, and feel his pudgy, sweaty palm rest on my lower back. "thomas, eileen, this is vera." he introduces me and i force a smile on my lips, wanting to break each of his fingers for thinking he could lay them anywhere on my skin. but i didn't have a choice in that matter. "easy." my earpiece sounds again, and i force my composure. i can't lose it now; i have to be believable. the couple extends their hands one at a time, and i shake graciously, and turn my gaze sweetly over to the mayor, leaning in towards his ear and murmuring something no one else can hear. richmond swallows loudly, his restless gaze skipping around the crowd and then nodding curtly. "thank you for coming. enjoy yourself." he smiles graciously at the couple and they turn away, moving off towards where champagne. without a word, i walk away from the mayor, knowing he'll follow me into the designated room. "fifteen yards down the hall. the door is on your left. cancel on site." the command in my ear isn't from a familiar voice, which isn't comforting, especially on my first mission. but i've been trained for this. i can hear his expensive shoes squeaking on the tile, and i turn to the left and open the door, glancing over my shoulder at him with a teasing smirk and enter the room, not holding the door for him. the moment i'm out of sight, i rush forward two long strides into the room and around a corner, reaching into the high slit in my dress and yanking the gun from its holster. it is a five-hundred caliber magnum; i've been trained excessively with it. i hold my breath. the click of the door is the only noise, and i can hear him chuckle, expecting me to be undressing or surprising him in some sexual manner. i almost gag again, but i force my breath to remain in my lungs as he steps forward. i can hear the whoosh of air as his shoes sink into the short carpet; i can hear him swallow loudly again. it is completely silent for a split second, and i slowly raise the weapon up to my shoulder... he comes around the corner and i immediately slam the gun down onto his head with a loud crack. richmond crumples immediately. my heart is pounding into my throat. i'm still not breathing. he lands laying on his stomach, and i reach down with a free hand, throwing him onto his back and pressing my heel into his throat, taking position with the gun. his eyes are closed, but i imagine them open. i imagine them pleading, as a small gurgle comes from his throat and the trail of blood drips from the wound in his head as he wonders where his sex-filled night went. i tip the gun slightly down. no one in the party can hear the shot into the left side of his chest. no one in the party can hear the shot into the middle of his forehead. --- vera was recruited by the irish mafia when she was sixteen years of age. they picked her up on a street corner, selling her body to the greediest men of boston for money enough to feed her family. the truth was, she was of irish decent, but never had any of the cultures involved in her life. she didn't exactly have a choice, however, when she began working for the mafia. she was in training for the longest time, and the only on-site work she received was to be bait. she was nothing but eye candy for four years of grueling training. she learned everything there was to know about every gun, trained in hand to hand combat multiple times a day, and the rest of her time, she was lifting weights or running. her first mission was when she was twenty years old. vera assassinated the mayor of boston, who had been assisting in the transfer of weapons to the russian mafia. she completed the mission without fail, but completely shut down afterwards. she proved herself incapable of the emotional side of assassination, and was demoted back to being used as bait and assisting in the technical side of things. when vera was twenty one, members of the russian mafia broke into her house one night and slaughtered her mother and younger sister, and trashed the house, taking everything they had. vera wasn't home at the time, but she returned home and found her dead family and destroyed home. she completely snapped. vera went back to the headquarters for the mafia, getting the details on the next mission against the russians and begging to get the kill shot. she was denied permission, but that didn't stop her. feigning anger and despair, she went home and didn't participate in the tech backup, but instead showed up at the site of the mission. watching the other agent's moves closely, she saw a slip up in which security noticed. the agent was immediately dropped by the security for the russian mafia, but vera continued unnoticed and finished the mission, slaughtering the target and the two other security guards in the room by snapping the guards' necks and smashing the target's head into the ground. she was promoted again, naturally, and climbed the ranks of other assassins with each mission she completed. there was one catch for vera - the only missions she completed were against the russian mafia. those higher than her organizing the missions often requested her for others, but she'd never do it. of course, vera doesn't tell anyone what she really does for a living, so when she isn't murdering people, vera is a high-end paid escort. she doesn't have sex with clients - she functions as arm candy for public occasions. vera has basically lost her humanity and doesn't want to find it anytime soon. played by cintia dicker alias maggie |
