They didn’t see it coming, they never do. I wipe the blood from my hands with a grey–well more red now, rag; a middle aged man laying in his bed below me, his mouth agape–midstream, the sheets are stained bright red, a cool wind whisks through the window she’d snuck in with.  
	*Another easy job, though I feel bad for whoever has to clean up all this blood.*  
	She sighs and walks over to the window, climbing over the edge and sitting on the lip for a moment–before slipping into the midnight black.  
	She slips into a waiting car and quietly shuts the door, the driver starts driving without question, after a few minutes the driver stops, “This is the next stop, Alexander and Trinity Genston”, the driver hands her a picture, a smiling couple smiling on their adversary. Sad she’d have to end that.   
	She sighs and climbs out of the car