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To most people asking about one's favourite colour was the start of a blossoming friendship. It opened doors to more in-depth conversations and encouraged people to spend more time together where they could learn about things more meaningful than a single colour.

You see if you asked Nina what her favourite colour was she would shrug and say she didn't have one before muttering out a quiet black when you pressed for an answer. Despite wearing the colour a lot, it wasn't her favourite and Nina wasn't lying when she said she didn't have one.

Nina had always had more important things to think about than a single colour but as she watched the blood of her latest victim drip down the marble counters onto the white titled floors, she couldn't help but marvel at its pigments.

Perhaps Nina had a favourite colour after all.

Red splatters covered the once pristine cream walls and the ghastly sound of a blade scratching against the plaster was mixed with the constant drip of that special red liquid hitting the floor.

Her footsteps were quiet as she manoeuvred her way around the lifeless bodies producing a decadent maze on the floor, she wasn't bothered by the bleeding cut on her forehead or the blood sliding down her cheek as she walked.

The man responsible for her injuries was currently laying dead in the kitchen missing a hand and leg.

"Ring a ring a rosies," as Nina made her way through the apartment, she sung softly as she increased the pressure of her blade against the wall, allowing the man she was hunting to know she was coming, "a pocket full of posies."

There were 4 bodies on the floor but Nina had been given 5 names, meaning that one had gotten away. Considering that the front door was bolted closed and the windows were controlled by an AI currently under Nina's command, there was only one place her missing target could be hiding.

And the red handprint on a door handle made where abundantly clear.

"A tissue, a tissue," she continued the children's song as she pushed open the door to find a bald-headed man frantically trying to get a window open, he spun around at the creak of the door and whimpered when he saw the gun in her hand.

"Please, I have a fiancée," he begged and Nina just looked at him with a blank stare, she wondered why he thought telling her that would stop her from killing him.

"So did I, his name was Tobias," Nina shrugged casually as she watched the man violently shake under her gaze, "your organisation killed him."

"I- I swear I had nothing to do with that," he begged, backing up into the window and shaking his head rapidly.

"I never said you did," Nina tilted her head in confusion as she watched him.

She was always fascinated watching people like him, arrogant sons of bitches who believed the world was theirs to destroy, tremble in fear before her. Maybe it was because she didn't understand why; Nina never rose her voice above its usual volume and she always looked rather nonchalant on her assignments.

She always thought their fear was because half her face was covered. Nina's new uniform consisted of her usual black fitted pants and combat boots but with a long tactical jacket, that once zipped all the way covered the bottom half of her face and rested on her nose.

The outfit was mainly to hide the scar on her neck but she liked the added warmth the getup provided her.

"Please! My fiancee, she's preg-" the man's words were silenced as Nina clicked off the safety on her gun and the man visibly gulped as he momentarily lost feeling in his legs.

[2] An Executioner's Requiem | Leo FitzWhere stories live. Discover now