Killjoy.

(WARNING; This chapter contains graphic gore, and violence along with dark humor.)

Scarlett's gaze flicked to the rearview mirror again, her sharp eyes narrowing at the SUV.

Too close.

The city's lights illuminated its sleek black frame, the kind of car that screamed both money and danger.

But the driver wasn't being at all subtle, not in how they followed her every turn.

She smirked.

Easing her foot off the gas slightly, she let her car slow down, just enough to test their reaction.

The SUV mirrored her move, also slowing but still able to maintain the same distance.

"Amateurs."

She took a sharp right turn onto a quieter street, the city's bustle fading into the background.

The SUV followed.

Her pulse quickened, not in fear, but in anticipation. The thrill of the chase, the rush of adrenaline, it was almost enough to distract her from the chaos swirling in her head. Almost.

"Alright," she murmured, her smirk widening. "Let's see if you can keep up."

With a flick of her wrist, she shifted gears, the Lamborghini roaring to life as she slammed on the accelerator.

The car surged forward, the tires screeching against the pavement as she weaved through the sparse traffic.

The SUV kept up, its engine growling in determination.

Her grin turned feral.

She pushed the car harder, darting through an intersection just as the light turned red. The SUV barreled through after her, drawing the angry honks of horns from other drivers.

"Persistent, are we?"

The streets became a blur as Scarlett maneuvered her car with precision, taking sharp turns and slipping through narrow alleyways. Even if she hadn't been here in a long time, she still knew this city like the back of her hand, every shortcut and blind spot ingrained in her memory.

But the SUV didn't falter.

Whoever was behind the wheel wasn't just persistent, they were skilled.

Her amusement faded slightly, replaced by a flicker of curiosity.

"Alright, mystery driver, let's see what you're really made of."

She swerved onto an empty stretch of road, the buildings on either side giving way to an industrial area bathed in shadows.

The SUV followed, its headlights cutting through the darkness like twin beams of determination.

Scarlett's fingers tightened around the wheel as she made a sudden, sharp turn into an abandoned warehouse parking lot.

The Lamborghini skidded to a halt, its tires kicking up a cloud of dust as she killed the engine.

The SUV pulled in after her, stopping a few yards away.

Scarlett stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the cracked asphalt. She didn't bother closing the door behind her, her sharp gaze locked on the SUV as its engine idled.

"Well?" she called out. "Are you just going to sit there, or are we doing this?"

The SUV's headlights shut off, plunging the lot into near-darkness.

The car's doors flew open, and men poured out like an angry swarm of bees.

Eight. No, ten of them.

They were all heavily armed with machine guns, machetes, and bats.

The leader, a towering brute with a shaved head and a scar running from his temple to his jaw, barked orders. "Spread out! Surround her!"

Scarlett tilted her head, grinning. "Wow, all these men for me. I'm flattered."

One man raised his gun, aiming it directly at her chest.

"Not yet," the leader snapped, holding up a hand. "Let her talk."

She also raised a hand, mimicking his gesture. "Let her talk," her voice echoed mockingly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "How generous. But I have to ask, are we really doing this here? Out in the open? Not very subtle, are we?"

"Shut up, bitch," one of the men growled, his grip tightening on his gun.

Scarlett immediately frowned. "Bitch? You know, I've been called worse; monster, devil, demon. But you..." She gestured toward the group with a lazy wave. "You're not even worthy to call my name."

"Enough," the leader snarled. "Kill her."

The first shot rang out, a deafening BANG that echoed through the empty lot.

Scarlett moved.

She twisted to the side, the bullet whizzing past her ear with a sharp whoosh.

Her boots slammed against the pavement as she darted forward, closing the distance between her and the nearest man.

Her fist connected with his throat before he could react, the sickening crunch of cartilage snapping beneath her knuckles.

"Argh!" he choked, stumbling backward, his hands clawing at his neck.

She didn't wait.

She grabbed his machine gun, yanking it free from his weak grip.

In one smooth motion, she swung it like a club, the heavy metal smashing into the temple of the next man charging her.

"Ahhhhh!" he screamed as his skull caved in, blood spraying in an arc.

Bullets tore through the air, the sharp rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire drowning out the screams.

Scarlett ducked, rolling across the ground as bullets slammed into the asphalt around her, sending shards of concrete flying.

She sprang to her feet, grabbing the machete from a fallen man.

Another thug lunged at her with a spiked chain, swinging it in a wide arc.

She immediately ducked, the metal spikes whistling past her head.

Closing the distance between them, she drove her fist into his gut with enough force to make him double over.

Then she grabbed the chain, yanked it free and wrapped it around his neck.

"ARGHHHH!!" He gurgled, his eyes bulging as she pulled tighter, the spikes digging into his flesh.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with sharp objects?" her voice cooed, sweet and venomous.

He didn't answer. He couldn't.

He continued gurgling, clawing at the chain as blood dripped down his neck.

She yanked it one final time, the sickening sound of flesh tearing filling the air as his head lolled at an unnatural angle.

She let the body drop, the chain clattering to the ground beside it.

"Pathetic,"

Another three men charged her at once, their weapons raised.

She grinned, her bloodied face gleaming under the faint light.

The first man swung a crowbar, aiming for her head.

She ducked, the metal missing her by mere inches, before driving her elbow into his gut, the force doubling him over with a pained oomph.

Grabbing his head, she slammed it against her knee.

CRUNCH!

The sound of his nose breaking was like music to her ears. Blood gushed down his face as he crumpled to the ground.

The second man raised his gun, but Scarlett was faster.

She lunged forward, grabbing the barrel and twisting it upward.

The gun fired, the bullet tearing through his own throat.

He gurgled, dropping to his knees as blood spurted from the wound.

The third man immediately turned to run, but she grabbed the spiked chain and hurled it like a whip.

It wrapped around his ankle, sending him crashing to the ground.

She stalked toward him, her boots crunching over shattered glass. "Leaving so soon?"

"Please..." He whimpered, crawling backward, but she was already on him.

She raised the machete high, the blade catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

"AHHHHH!"

In one brutal arc, she brought it down on his head.

CRACK!!

His skull immediately shattered under the force.

She tilted her head, watching his blood spill out, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

After a minute, she ripped the machete free, blood spraying across her face as she turned to the last man standing.

The leader now stood alone, his machine gun pointed on her.

His hand trembled, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Scarlett wiped the blood from her face, her grin never faltering. "What's wrong, big guy? Scared of little ol' me?"

He fired.

She dodged but the bullet still managed to graze her arm.

No matter, she didn't flinch.

With inhuman speed, she closed the distance between them, her hands gripping his gun.

She wrenched it upward, the barrel pointing at his chin.

"You're not human. You're a monster." The man managed to growl.

Scarlett smirked. "Goodnight," she pulled the trigger.

BOOM.

His head snapped back, blood and brain matter splattering across the pavement.

She let the gun drop from her hands, her chest heaving as she surveyed the carnage.

Blood smeared her hands, her clothes, and her boots, with some even dripping down her chin.

"Oh come on," She stomped her feet. "Did you guys really think it was easy to get all this clothes?"

She pouted, crouching beside one of the corpses, and wiping her bloodied hands on his shirt. "Now, I'm all dirty. Hope you're happy?"

At that moment, her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket.

She pulled it out, her grin widening as she saw the name.

Ex.

She answered almost immediately. "Hi, boo."

"Did you receive my gift?" a hoarse voice asked from the line.

Her gaze flicked to the bodies around her.

"Oh, you mean these little pieces of shit?" She pressed her boot against one of the corpses, smearing blood across the pavement. "Yeah, I received them. And I sent them straight to hell."

The voice chuckled. "You always were efficient."

"Efficient?" She rolled her eyes. "Try creative. But honestly, I'm disappointed. Sending thugs? Really? You're a mafia boss, Adrian. Where's the flair? The drama?"

"Drama? You fucking blew up my warehouse!" The voice snapped.

She laughed mockingly. "Oh, honey, that was foreplay. If you're mad about that, maybe I shouldn't have dumped you so properly."

"Dumped me properly? You call bombing my whole warehouse, then having people write on the floor with bullet holes, 'LET'S BREAK UP, 'dumping properly'?"

"Details,"

"You're insane," Adrian growled.

"And you loved every second of it."

Without waiting for a response, she hung up, slipping the phone back into her pocket as she stood up.

The Lamborghini roared to life, its engine echoing through the blood-soaked street, before driving off into the night.