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Black Rose

Lying on the concrete floor on the rooftop of one of the high-rise buildings in Century City (Los Angeles), Eira followed the red line that went through a floor-to-ceiling window and landed at the back of the head of a man laughing with other men in similar formal wear like him. 

"Ciao stronza," she smiled and pulled the trigger. Not a second later, her target fell forward with a loud thud, surprising the others who scrambled around, panicked, realizing he had been assassinated.

{Bye-bye bitch.}

"94th target, eliminated." She stood up, disassembling her gun before placing it in a large case beside another custom-built weapon.

"Just six more before I retire." She rolled her neck, feeling the stiffness in her muscles. "Fuck, I can't wait."

Veering around, she took three steps and froze. Men in black combat suits surrounded her, with high-level guns pointed at her. 

Mercenaries? Definitely not. These look like highly trained death machines.

Her eyes flicked from one man to the next, scanning the situation and calculating her odds. She quickly realized there was no easy way out of this one. Still, she couldn't help laughing, "Eight of you just for me? The one who sent you must really want me dead. Was it my sister?"

"No," One of the men replied coldly. "You've got plenty of enemies who want you dead. The only reason you're still breathing is that no one was powerful enough to kill you. But you made the mistake of crossing someone you shouldn't have, and now you'll pay for it with your life."

Eira chuckled, unfazed. "Honestly, I'm surprised it's not my sister who sent you." She raised an eyebrow. "Any chance you'll tell me who it was before I die?"

The men didn't humor her sarcasm. They raised their guns and opened fire without hesitation. 

"Fuck me," Eira muttered, throwing herself to the side. One hand drew a gun from the holster on her thigh, while the other raised the case as a shield. She pulled the trigger, firing off a rapid succession of shots. Her aim was deadly precise, each bullet striking four out of eight of the figures—killing them instantly.

Unfortunately, she wasn't unscathed. A bullet tore through her left arm while another grazed her thigh.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Eira cursed as she hit the ground hard. Pain shot through her as the rough concrete scraped against her wounds. Still, she kept firing.

She wasn't going down without a fucking fight; even if she was doomed to die.

Sliding behind a metal cage for cover, sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off it. Hurriedly, she clawed open the case and yanked out an upgraded machine gun. It was heavy in her hands but lethal. 

Let's just say her weapons were very fucking expensive and custom-made.

With blood dripping down her arm, she pressed a button, unleashing a barrage of bullets. Using this chance, she took off the cloth around her hand and used it to wrap her bleeding arm whilst the gun moved fast and fired even faster. 

Turning around, she saw that only three remained. The fourth one had likely been caught off guard while the three that remained started leaping away from the radar of the gun. So Eira made it rotate 360°, the noise deafening as it emptied its rounds.

The machine gun was making a lot of noise which would have alerted almost everyone in the nearest buildings and some would have probably called the authorities. But too bad, she might be dead before they arrived.

How lucky she was. 

Pointing her gun at the slowest of the three, she shot twice; both of the shots successfully hitting it in the head and the chest.

Whatever the hell they were, a bullet to the head and chest would kill them.

Before she could react, something struck her hand hard, sending her gun flying from her grip. A gloved hand grabbed her and hurled her toward the edge of the rooftop.

"Agh! Shit!" Eira groaned as she slammed into the railing, her head colliding with the metal. The pain was sharp, and she could feel blood running down her temple. She opened her eyes and forced a smirk. "You could've been more gentle. I'm a lady, you know? Ah." She joked but the figures weren't amused. They stood a few feet away, their weapons still trained on her.

"Eira Kingston, you're out of weapons. Surrender. Any last words?"

Eira smirked, but behind it, she felt bitter, angry and regretful. She wasn't afraid to die, but she wasn't ready to die just yet. "You really are robots, huh?" She chuckled, gripping the railing and pulling herself upright despite the pain. "Sorry, can't do that. I was taught not to give up. Anyway, you'll kill me either way. And yes, there is actually—any chance I could know who sent you?"

"There is no reason for you to know that, as you will be dead soon."

She scoffed. "Then fuck whoever it was, and I hope I get to kill them."

The words were barely out of her mouth before a hail of bullets tore through her body. The force knocked her back, her grip slipping as she plummeted over the edge of the rooftop. The world spun, and darkness began to close in. In her final moments, a single thought passed her lips like a wish: "I wish I could kill the fucker who sent them to kill me."

---

Deep within a shadowy, labyrinth structure echoing with the tormented cries of men and women alike, a dark, luxurious chamber sat in eerie silence. The only light in the room came from the large screens lining the walls, casting an icy glow across the room and illuminating a woman lounging on a velvet chair.

"Is it done?" Her voice cut through the silence, though she directed her question at no one in particular.

A figure emerged from the shadows behind her, their voice steady. "Yes, master. Eira Kingston is dead."

The woman smiled, her dark red lips curling in wicked satisfaction. "Good. Eira has only herself to blame for being overly smart."

The figure hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "And her sister?"

The woman's smile vanished, and her tone remained cold. "Leave her be, for now. But if she continues to covet what doesn't belong to her… do what must be done."

"Yes, master." The figure bowed and swiftly vanished into the darkness.

The woman turned back to the screens, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as she watched the bloody and gory scenes in front of her.

Hello, readers!

Thank you for diving into my novel! This story, filled with themes of revenge and identity, is part of the Viral Book Call contest. Your support can truly make a difference. If you enjoy it, please add it to your collections, comment, review, and vote. Your encouragement means everything!

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