Kill Fest

"Oh, there is a story behind this tattoo," she said slipping out of her seat and standing before him.

"Please my dear, tell me all about it.

"I'll show you," Aurora said as she started to sway her hips in time to the house music and slowly backing away.

"Yeah Baby, tell me all about it!" he cried out as she turned and wiggled her backside in his direction.

The action made her want to vomit but it seemed to work on her behalf. She danced in what she thought was sexual characteristics of femininity to lure her male onlookers minds away from reality. Slowly and sensually, she made her way over to her bag. Upon reaching it, she bent over rearing her assets into the air much to the delight of the horny men watching. All they saw was a pretty girl's ass flashing before them, what they didn't catch was her hand slipping into her bag and wrapping around her gun grip. Inserting a finger into the trigger ring, Aurora turned and glanced back to the man on the couch.

"Well you see, the red roses signify life, the black roses signify death…..and the thorns…..well the thorns mean pain."

"Pain.....why pain?" Mendoza quested.

"Yeah…pain….lots of pain!" she shouted pulling her weapon with all of Hell's fury.

Before the man standing nearest to her knew what was happening, he felt scorching steel ripping through his skull dropping him where he stood. Two more men fell within moments of the first as the young assassin discharging her pistol unleashed hellfire upon the room. With all her ferocity, Aurora took command and placed each shot deep within their human targets. Although her heart was pumping madly, her nerves were steady and in control. Her eyes without a single blink, hunted down her prey as she walked like a woman taken by demonic possession, slow and void of any expression.

As the two strippers screamed, the last of the body guards reached for his revolver in vain before catching two hits in his chest before he could even squeeze off a round. Within the chaos, Mendoza tried to withdraw his weapon from his jacket but was unable to pull the trigger before he felt throbbing pain in his ribs. Falling back in his seat, he lay clutching his side moaning in anguish. Desperate to take his next breath, the drug kingpin gurgled on the blood filling his lungs. He glanced up at his assailant who was now backlit in striking silhouette by the clubs flashing lights. He begged for breath as his angel of death approached him like a specter of malice.