2014 Copyright © A. M. Forest

All Rights Reserved

~One Year Earlier~

She wobbled down the narrow, dark alley, her heavy and unbalanced footsteps echoing off of the grease-caked walls.

Her red dress strap slid off her shoulder along with her white fur scarf. A white magnolia flower stayed in place in the corner of her ear.

The woman knew the men were following her, they always did.

Her stiletto gave out and she fell to the ground clumsily, covering her face with her left hand as she giggled. Mentally, the woman rolled her eyes. It was hard to keep up the act when she knew she sounded like a drunken, retarded, red-headed bimbo. She could easily pass for one thanks to the tight-fitting, red spaghetti strap dress that came to her mid-thigh; ruffles hid the holsters of the knife and gun that were hidden on her inner thigh.

"Do you need some help, pretty lady?" A slimy voice cooed in front of her.

She peeked through her fingers and saw the three men from the club a block away. They blocked her exit. The one that spoke stepped forward so she could get a better look of his face. He was about 5'10", medium build, with plain features accompanied by dark hair and brown eyes. His friends had similar builds and less distinguishable features, easy faces to forget in a crowd; medium threat.

She watched as an evil grin crossed their faces while she moved her hand to her lap, giving them her best drunken smile. "Of courrse... I think I left my purrrse inside the cluuub..." she slurred intentionally, pretending to only see sincerity in his words as one of them reached out a hand for her to take. The woman took the hand with both of hers only to be pulled roughly into his arms.

There had been five murders near the Riverton HotSpot, the newest club in the backstreets of downtown New York. All five victims had lacerations to the neck and wrists after the bodies were drained of blood; all five women.

"It seems you won't need it since tonight might be your last night." The leader sneered. He moved in front of her, lifting her chin up. He was close enough for her to smell the blood on his breath. "It all depends on how well you please us." The guy holding her tightened his grip.

"This could have been so much more entertaining if you three weren't so predictable," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "You played right into my hands."

Dropping the façade, she threw her head back into the face of the one holding her. He was quick to release her, giving her room to shove the heel of her stiletto into the stomach of the leader, pushing herself out of both of their reach.

The leader fell to the ground in shock, holding the bloody wound with both hands. He looked up at her, anger changing his features. "Kill her!" He ordered as he slowly began to heal.

His goons turned to her as she pulled out the curved hunting knife from its holster. With each step they took towards her, their faces began to change. Their skin tone began to gray, eyes swallowed by black. Their white fangs appeared with slobbering drool dripping from their hungry mouths as they growled.

She smiled, "So I'm guessing you guys want to drag this out?"

Tilting her head, knife in attack position, she waited until they were close enough. Just before the closer one could get a hold on the woman, she lashed out, causing him to move in order to block it. She slashed his right arm before he tried to claw her with his left, which she maneuvered around and countered with a stab to the neck.

He fell to his knees, holding his gushing wound. The one that grabbed her earlier took his place in front of her and began aiming for her torso. She dodged as fast as she could, admitting that his irritatingly quick attacks were coming too close for comfort.

The woman waited for an opening; which came quicker than expected when he swiped at her head. Immediately, she moved right, grabbing hold of his wrist with one hand and breaking his elbow with the other.

He cried out in pain, but, knowing the patterns of nightly walkers, she quickly shut him up with one single slice to his throat. Both bodies collapsed to the floor, only to immediately crumble into dust and disappear.

She couldn't stop the satisfied smile that graced her lips. Too easy.

She looked down at her bloody knife and wiped her finger down the side slowly, watching the leader as his eyes followed her every movement.

She smirked at him, enjoying the sight. "You know, since you three took your sweet ass time following me I expected more of a fight; well, at least a better one than that." She removed her finger and examined the blood with her index and thumb before continuing. "Good thing I tripped too, or you guys would've never caught up. Makes my job so much easier if I play my part well, don't you think?" She asked rhetorically, her whole demeanor nonchalant as she moved her attention back to the fallen leader.

"W-who are y-you?" He stuttered in absolute fear. He tried scooting away from her only to stop when his back hit the grease-caked wall, immobilizing him from going any further.

She kneeled in front of him, her arm resting on her knee so that they were eye level, giving him her best showgirl smile. "My name is Magnolia Haunt; female super soldier sent to hunt Nightwalkers, or what I like to call vampires," she announced before cutting his throat. The leader brought his hand to his neck in a sad attempt to stop the bleeding as she used a clean part of his shirt to wipe her knife before putting it away. Magnolia stood and started walking towards the street.

The last thing she heard was the ash falling to the concrete floor, and once again, she was alone with the sound of her heavy footsteps as she walked out of the narrow dark alley. A magnolia flower fell on the ground of the entrance just as she disappeared.

~~~

This was the part of the job Magnolia disliked the most.

After finishing an assignment, she was strictly required to report back in person—which involved socializing with the Professor. She held nothing against the older man; he was just... too much.

"Hello, Magnolia! How are you this lovely morning?" Professor Adam Rodgers greeted as she moved into his spacious office-slash-debriefing room. He was walking down the spiral staircase that led to his office when he spotted her come in through the door. The old man was in his late fifties to early sixties—Magnolia never bothered asked. The way he carried his 5'10" form told her he was in the military for some portion of his life, just like her. His graying short hair hinted at the curly black strains he had in his youth. His green eyes were wide awake and held more information than she could hope to understand; he was a medium threat to her.

"It's three in the morning, Rodgers; it's so dark the shadows are still hiding." Magnolia deadpanned before scanning the room. Something was missing from her usual routine. "What? No special greeting?"

He reached the bottom of the steps by the time she made it to the middle of the room. He laughed, his smile brightening his aging face. "Your humor never seems to die, does it? I'm sure Agent Jones is on a mission right now, which explains the lack of gunfire that usually comes with your arrival," Professor Rodgers paused. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Adam?"

Magnolia sighed, pushing her bangs out of her face. "As many times as I tell you that I'm not going to call you that, Professor." The lack of sleep and his very social personality was starting to give her a headache. She moved to the long table in the center of the room and threw the file in her hand on the flat surface before turning to leave. "Mission complete; targets terminated at 1:02 A.M."

Professor Rodgers was quick to grab the file and go through its contents. "We gave you this assignment yesterday and you completed it in five hours. That's a new record!" He called after her.

"Well, have your people send the plaque to the apartment—you know where to find me," she dismissed him over her shoulder as she moved quickly to leave the building, glaring at anyone who looked her way.

~~~

The next morning Magnolia made quick work of the meal in front of her—a bacon and cheese omelet with a cup of freshly-squeezed orange juice, making sure to take her the two red pills on the side of her plate before she finished the food. She felt the energy burst expand throughout her body soon after swallowing the pills.

When the plate was clear, she moved around the white marble island table to the sink and started the process of loading the dishwasher.

Once finished, Magnolia finally looked around her apartment. The floors were covered with polished dark wood; the cream colored couch and love seats followed by the dark wood coffee table filled the living room. Three forty-eight inch televisions were mounted side-by-side on the wall, between two six feet, dark wood bookshelves that were filled to the brim with books she'd collected over the years related to anything and everything retaining to her line of work.

She knew that down the short hallway lay three bedrooms, all with their own private bathrooms. She knew they were all filled with matching furniture; plain queen sized duvets covering the beds and a large closet for her nonexistent guests to use. She knew there were weapons hidden in every hiding spot she made for emergency purposes. And she knew something was missing.

Every time she had a moment to herself in her apartment, her mind would go back to a life of family and friends; a life she has long since given up when her parents were murdered sixteen years ago.

Don't think about it. She chanted in her head, forcing herself to leave the kitchen and go to her room to get ready for the day. It's functional. That's what matters. You've been living here for the past three and a half years; you should remember that by now. Her inner voice reasoned.

Just as she was about to escape the quiet of her room and into the safety of a shower, her phone rang. "Agent Haunt," an irritated voice croaked through the speaker when she answered. "We have your next assignment." With that message, the line went dead.

She sighed and dropped the phone back on the bed where she'd grabbed it, moving swiftly to the bathroom and into shower. She had things to do.

~*~*~

Edited by: @Shrutiluvbooks and  @Spaceship_jellyfish