Her eyes settled upon her mark in the moderately lit and barely decorated room. His dark hair was messy as he sat on the edge of the bed, pants and boxers down to his ankles while some blonde with fishnet stockings bobbed her head up and down between his legs. He raised a pipe to his lips and inhaled the smoke, smiling as it blew past his lips and above him.

She shut the door again quietly and exhaled in mild annoyance, making her way into the empty room beside it and shutting the door to the point where it was open enough to see a bit of the hallway. An audible sigh escaped her lips as she re-adjusted her hair scrunchy.

A temporary setback, they happened occasionally and she wasn’t too concerned about it. Circumstance just threw her a curve ball and she wouldn’t swing at it, like a seasoned baseball pro she would simply wait for the perfect pitch, or in her case, the perfect moment.

The time ticked by slowly until the low murmur of voices caught her attention. She listened attentively while the pitch and volume rose to the point where she could hear them quite clearly.

“Honestly, fuck you. I don’t need your bullshit.” A frustrated girl said harshly.

“What the fuck ever baby you know you love me.” The male voice sounded out the words slowly, almost drawled them out in his drug induced stupor.

“You’re so pathetic I can’t even deal with you right now.”

The sound of a door opening and shutting focused her attention on the opening in the door. She watched as a blonde, the same one with the fishnet stockings, walked past her door and towards the stairs in a huff. With curiosity, she poked her head into the hallway and watched the girl walk away, eyes roaming over the long legs and swaying hips until they disappeared around the corner.

As soon as that distraction was out of sight she reached into the inside of her jacket pocket and pulled out her Beretta 92 pistol, affixing the silencer to the barrel. There was something strangely satisfying to her when she flicked off the safety switch and slid her index finger over the trigger. It was like a fascination with the amount of power held in her hand, a tool that would send someone off into the next life with a bang.