"Lead the way, sharpshooter. "

Gwen had found out from a young age that names were such powerful things, peeking around the shadows of the street corners with curiosity shining bright in her dull eyes as she watched men and women alike speak amongst each other in quiet tones. Picking up on their anxiety as it bloomed through the air, their fear as they spoke about whatever new monster that had begun to show their face in Ketterdam, and making names for themselves through blood shed, through cruelty, through causing absolute damage to the point of striking terror in lesser mens veins.

But she'd also learned that putting a face to a name that caused such things could be one of the most dangerous things you could ever do. Because the terror of the masses could either make you, or it could be your downfall...and she had watched enough of both to realise there was a way she could still be feared, still make a living through the harshness of the Barrel...and not have to gamble with her life over something as stupid as a few syllables that they'd all been given as a way to be individuals.

Which, of course, was how her aliases of the Stranger came to be. Coming to her through a simple happening across a pitch black monstrous mask that blended in perfectly to the darkness that seemed to be ever on the brim of swallowing Ketterdam whole, and she'd only taken one simple look at it before realizing it was something she could hide behind...and something she could use to grasp at the useless power all unfortunate souls seemed desperate for.

Because she knew all of this, and she'd learned it all too through the loss of her own innocence as she'd watch blood and guts seep into the uneven cobblestones of the floor until her throat would spasm with bile, listening to their dying screams, their hacking breaths wet with mortality, and eventually...choosing to survive and subject herself to the brutality of life by becoming a name and nothing more as she began to take precious oxygen from lungs with an efficiency that most were absolutely terrified of.

And yet, currently awaiting at the destination she and Jesper had arranged for them to meet and staring out into the foggy air for the elusive sharpshooter that she'd chosen as her unknowing helping hand in his own bosses murder, she couldn't help but ponder the implications of her freely giving her own name to him the moment she'd laid her azure eyes upon him...because was she that desperate for a scrap of human attention? Had her libido endangered her rather dangerous mantle that hung in the balance of genius and crazy? She wasn't all that excited to find out.

However, it wasn't like her name was exactly well known in the first place, not her true name, her birthname...and everyone who had once known it was long since dead, either buried in the earth below or...well, it didn't matter all that much where they were. Dead was dead, and there was no point in giving such things a second thought, not anymore, not unless she wanted to join them in her grief.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes, gorgeous!"

Gwen's lips quirked just slightly at the familar voice, ear twitching for half a second before she spun around on her heel to find Jesper strutting towards her, arms spread wide with his tan coat flapping in the light wind and that strange hat of his hanging low on his forehead...but she could see the light splattering of bruising against his temple, turning the skin it found there a dark shade of blue, and the cut against his lip that had re-opened just slightly as he grinned massively, like he was announcing his presence to the whole of Ketterdam and she almost found herself laughing at his dramatic display.

"I thought you weren't going to show. Running awfully late, aren't you?" She tutted playfully as she moved to meet him halfway, pouting mockingly as she crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip out to the side, uncaring of the curious eyes she could feel watching them as a group of tourists walked through them, muttering under their breaths while clutching their valuables tighter, already deciding that Jesper and Gwen looked like nothing more than lowly criminals and she had to clench her hands into fists in her attempt to stop herself from showing just how criminal she could be.

"Believe it or not but this is the earliest I've ever been for anything." But it seemed that Jesper had either not noticed them in his blissful ignorance, or the more likely option being that he just didn't care as he smiled down at her cutely, reaching down to place a gentle hand on her forearm, wrapping it around slowly to pull her away from the crowd so they were no longer in the way and beginning to walk with her in tow.

"Oh, I believe it."

"Rude. Now come along, obviously you've been deprived of my lovely presence long enough, don't you think, love?" And linking his lanky arm through hers, she allowed the sharpshooter to lead the way, talking to each other quietly with heads bent low with cheerful giggles and warm eyes and blossoming smiles as if they were in their own personal bubble where it was just the two of them and not anyone else, seemingly ignoring everyone and everything around them.

But if someone had looked closely enough at the two, they probably would of seen Jesper's free hand that never strayed too far from his revolver by his slim hips, ring-clad fingers constantly brushing over the metal in reassurance as his grey eyes flickered around every alleyway as if waiting to be jumped, while Gwen's pink ears twitched just slightly against her head every once in a while, listening out for everything and anything as she walked alongside the Zemeni boy...both unaware of the others caution, their unease.

Half an hour later, however, they finally seemed to have dropped their guards and reached their destination if the way she heard Jesper's heart give a sudden excited leap as he quickly dragged her over towards it, grinning down at her as he interrupted his own story to open the door, barely even wincing at the high pitched bell that rung the second it swung wide. "I'm telling you gorgeous, you're going to love this place."

"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it for now, Jesper." She giggled, ducking under his arm and allowing her fingers to trail over his belt suggestively, smirking just a little at the way his breath hitched for a moment, standing shock still until he grabbed his bearings and hurried after her, herding her off towards a corner far away from prying eyes and even going as far as to pull her chair out for her with a wink before gesturing over to someone near the top, having already discussed with Gwen that he would be taking the reigns of her order...after all, he was somewhat of a regular here thanks to a particular heartrender and he thought of himself as somewhat of an expert by now.

"Well, aren't you a perfect little gentleman?" The young girl hummed, the corners of her mouth lifting up into a grin as Jesper took the seat opposite her, instantly shrugging himself out of his tan coat and placed it over his chair, leaving him in a rather pretty maroon shirt with a dark waistcoat pinching him in...looking completely and utterly at ease wherever he was it seemed and livening up the room with his suave and charm as he matched her smile, raising his eyebrows in mock hurt.

"You sound suprised, love."

"Just a little."

"I'll have you know that I'm full of suprises." He quirked a brow at her scoff, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek in an effort to stop his grin as he playfully frowned, huffing under his breath as he stared into her ever-shifting eyes of blue that made the skies and the seas simply look dull in comparison. "And just what is so funny? Come on, spit it out. Because I just happen to be the perfect example of aloof and mysterious...when I want to be."

"Oh please, I have you all figured out." She practically purred, something dark passing over her eyes as she leaned her forearms across the clean table and laced her fingers together, looking almost the direct opposite of Jesper's laid back approach as he leant away, his arm hanging over the back of his chair with his leg crossed over his other at the ankle cockily with that ever present look of mischief in those gray eyes of his, perfect teeth grazing the bottom of his pretty lips as he met her gaze with confidence.

"Well then gorgeous, by all means. Tell me all about myself, impress me." The sharpshooter whispered with a wink, chuckling under his breath before he lifted his gaze, just as the waiter suddenly came forward remarkably fast with their food on his arm which smelled absolutely gorgeous, so much so that Gwen's stomach rumbled just thinking about it, mouth watering in temptation and trying to remember the last time she'd ate anything other than a simple piece of bread and unable to find the answer.

And when the plate of steaming hot waffles was finally placed in front of her, she found herself tongue-tied for a few moments, eyes as wide as the dinner plates themselves, staring at the oozing syrup that seeped down into liquid gold around the crispy looking edges, a perfect specimen if she ever did see one. And she was only brought out of her awed daze by the sound of laughter dancing over her flushed ears, and her gaze snapped up to see Jesper grinning down at her with something affectionate shining in his eyes. "You look exactly like my friend does when she see's waffles...or her boyfriend without his shirt, there's never really an in between."

Gwen forced herself to laugh, a dimple appearing in her left cheek as she reached for her fork, shifting it in her hand to place inconspicuously under the table and into the small satchel by her feet where she quickly grabbed a rag soaked with rubbing alcohol and began swiping it over the utensil, fighting off a grimace at the thought of how many dirty mouths had touched it while watching Jesper begin to shovel the dessert in his mouth without a care in the world...somehow without getting any on his face or clothes which was really a feat in itself that had her almost impressed.

"So, I do believe you were about to talk about my favourite subject."

"Yourself?" She asked with an amused giggle at the Zemeni boys wink, cutting into the waffle delicately with her clean fork and placing it on the tip of her tongue, trying not to moan aloud at the sugary flavour that warmed her mouth, hugging her tastebuds as if to remind her just how good actual food tasted, as if she had ever forgotten, it was just that she didn't have time for such luxuries, or at least that's what she told herself. But she knew that the truth was that she never thought she deserved it, deserved anything, not even the air she breathed.

"Well, you're obviously confident...not just in your looks but in your abilities, your pretty little pistols indicate that you're a good shot...probably one of the best of the best and you're never seen without them because you're...hm, well I'm assuming you're part of a gang, I mean, not many people bring their weapons to a date unless they've got a name for themselves." Gwen listed off, keeping a coy and almost innocent smile on her face, trying not to raise any suspicion about her knowledge of him, that she'd gotten from practically being a certified stalker.

"Oh come on now, love. That was easy, almost everyone can see that." Jesper scoffed, pushing another mouthful of the gooey goodness into his open maw and looking like he'd swallowed it whole like some sort of flirtatious snake. Pink tongue peaking out from his lips to lick at the syrup on the corner of his mouth, aware of a flushed looking Gwen watching the action closely before she cleaned her throat awkwardly.

"I wasn't done." She said with a huff, tilting her chin into the air as he laughed at her indignation, opening his mouth to say something else with a teasing grin beginning to form of his face but she quickly interrupted him and hoped that the risky move she was about to pull worked the way she wanted it to, or else her whole plan would simply fall to shambles...and she'd have to simply kill the Brekker boy without the obscure torturing Nobles desired.

"You're lonely." Gwen finally uttered, hardly a change in pitch or tone, just speaking out a factual statement as she watched the playful smile that seemed to constantly adorn his features faltered for just a moment, a drop in his facade with the glorious light that seemed to shine like a star dimming from his grey eyes, causing something inside her gut to strangely twinge painfully, something that felt awfully similar to guilt as he swallowed tightly and gestured for her to continue. "Your friends are all probably in relationships, they're doing their own thing now and while they're sitting right beside you, you still miss them."

"Now how did you guess that."

"Your eyes look sad when you think no one is watching." The girl replied truthfully, because it was...she'd observed him and the other crows as they liked to call themselves for weeks before she implanted their interaction like some natural happening of fate, she'd watched the guilt and shame that ate away at him everytime he gambled alongside the adrenaline, seen the longing looks he sometimes shot towards Dirtyhands whenever she'd catch a glimpse of him. Saw the jealousy when he watched the heartrender and her tall blonde boyfriend or when the small Auburn-haired Van-Eck flirted with another boy until he was red in the face.

She'd seen it all, she'd noted it all down and decided that the addict was simply her best bet at getting close to Brekker...because those desperate for affection, attention and love tend to die by their own hand in their effort to gain it, which had made him her perfect crime.

And yet Jesper didn't seem to find the truth all that comfortable if the way a muscle in his jaw twitched, hidden behind a fake smile as he reached across the table to grab his drink and taking a quick gulp to calm his nerves, but only Gwen's sharp eyes could see the slight tremor in his ring-clad fingers, before he placed it back down onto the table to smile at her charmingly, as if that quick flash of pain in his gaze hadn't of even been there in the first place. "And you're watching, love?"

The wind had picked up outside, she could hear it blowing hard against the window pane, clattering against the wooden sign that rested atop the bakeries door and making quick tapping noises as it did so, the harsh breeze picking up idle litter and hushing it through the streets and for a moment, she allowed herself to watch it, finding comfort in her element like a bird without wings...until she dragged her eyes back over to the Zemeni boy to give him what looked to be an honest smile.

"I find myself to be more often than not. Whenever I'm walking through Ketterdam lately I find myself searching for that ridiculous hat of yours...because perhaps I'm lonely too." And Gwen hated the fact that there was some truth to her words regarding herself...she'd long since learned that the loneliness that had once felt so comforting, her safety net to be the monster mothers told their children about, now just felt suffocating. And that the isolation she forced upon herself wasn't safety, but death in disguise...because if no one in the world knew that you were alive, then the truth was that you weren't.

She was alone, completely and utterly alone with nothing but memories and ruins to keep her company...but even then those things that should of brought her comfort had been ruined by the grief she'd felt and would continue to feel for the rest of her damned life until she'd finally join the only two people she'd ever cared about.

However, before she could spiral into her own vile depression, she heard Jesper let out a quiet chuckle as he finally lifted his gaze to look into her azure eyes of raging waves, and she found some form of solidarity there that hadn't been there before as he suddenly reached into his pocket to slap some kruge down onto the table with a wink and a grin that looked down right sinful as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and stood tall with their half-eaten desserts cold and abandoned. "Well gorgeous, that got awfully depressing very quickly. And I don't know about you, but I quite fancy a drink."

"Lead the way, sharpshooter."
_________________________________________________

A violent storm had brewed during the night almost as soon as the gloomy sun had disappeared into the foggy horizon, sudden but always expected to the ever prepared inhabitants of Ketterdam as it wreaked havoc across the skies and bathing them in hues of deep purple and blue, clouds pelting down their ever blossoming fury with cold winds and horrible dredge that seeped deeply into the uneven cobblestones in the ground below, thunder and lightning lighting up the skies in terrifying flashes of promised destruction that had even the most secure man feeling uneasy.

Yet it was during the night that the Stranger always made her move.

The tiles of the roof underneath her feet were wet, slippery and cold as she moved across them, one black boot stepping in front of the other as she stalked forward slowly, quietly, nothing more than a whisper in the dark night with her dangerous eyes of raging seas firmly trained on the large mansion just to the side of her as the rain poured down heavily, soaking into her clothes and making them stick to her like a second skin until she felt ready to scratch herself pink and raw in an effort to get away from the sensation.

But she didn't, in fact she hardly even blinked as she finally reached her designated point, hidden just under an archway with the slight open window of her victim in sight as he sat amongst his desk, scribbling away at something she had no interest in seeing and unaware of the ever-creeping hand of death moving towards him with a sharp scythe ticking over his neck with every second that passed him by. And he wouldn't of course, no one ever did until it was too late to even attempt to stop fate, especially when the Stranger was involved and that's why she was so sought after. No one had ever survived her cruel talents...and no one ever would.

The man she watched with cold eyes was a higher up merchant called Herald Devaston known for his sticky fingers...and his rather disgusting taste in little girls far younger than he was, and it was only a matter of time before he'd eventually get his well deserved comeuppance after harming the wrong person...which in this case, just happened to be one of his victim's rich fathers.

And perhaps, somewhere buried deep with feigned nonchalance and callous actions there was some part of her that was going to enjoy watching the bastard choke on his own breath, there was some part of her that liked being sone form of vigilante legend for those who needed it and perhaps if things were different that was exactly who she could of been, something good that did good for selfless reasons and expected nothing in return...but the Barell had taken away such chances of kindness, or humanity and left something greedy and monstrous in its wake as it maimed her from the inside out.

Because the truth was, only the saints, the gods or whatever higher force there was in the heavens and fiery pits below could judge him...she was just there to set the appointment.

She squatted down, shifting into a more secure position as she stared him down, gaze flickering for half a second at the abyss of darkness down below that would be a very messy ending indeed as a tile lurched under her foot, tempting fate as she almost took a tumble before steadying herself as the winds seemed to wrap around her body like a protective embrace, and underneath a terrifying mask that promised ominous intentions, the Stranger grinned a terrible grin as she got to work.

There was many rumours about how she killed people, stories and legends being spun out of the fear of the unknown and unseen. Some thought she was an actual monster that slaughtered her victims with her demonic abilities that no man or woman had ever seen, just a glimpse of red eyes and snarling teeth before the winged creature would slither off into the night with its belly full of strife and destruction. Some thought she was a volcra, somehow managing to escape the fold to wreak havoc across Ketterdam because that was where darkness festered best.

And others of course, and in truth more sensible people, believed her to be human...or at least something close to it. A ambitious woman with a cruel talent for poisons that she would slip into drinks and sprinkle onto foods, her hands far faster than anyone could ever to notice. A vengeful man with rage coursing through his veins instead of blood that would realese some form of fatal gas through the windows, leaving their victims to choke on the contaminated air they breathed until they rotted from the inside out.

...But the closest she'd ever head someone get to her identity, her true self, was the whispered accusations of witchcraft heavy on the open air, of a grisha hidden in the shadows that decided to simply become something more. And of course, they assumed her to be a heartrender, and a powerful one at that, one of which that could stop your beating heart with barely a twitch of their fingers, like something that had only ever been seen with the Oh, so talented corpse witch that was Nina Zenik, protected by the dregs and untouched from her accused crimes.

They were wrong of course, well, wrong about her being a heartrender anyway as her steady hands shifted in position as the winds began to blow harder around her, whistling sharply in her ears as her dark eyes narrowed in concentration, focusing on the warmly lit room that flickered with the amber embers of the fireplace that was suddenly snuffed out as the oxygen in the room began to get tight, diminishing by the second as Herald stood on unsteady legs, coughing into the palm of his hand as his face began to turn blood red, veins bulging out of his skin and threatening to burst as he gasped for breath.

Usually, the Stranger would draw such things out, take the air from the room in slow bursts, taking some sadistic pleasure from the fact that her victims never knew that they were on deaths door, that their blood was clotting, their lungs were deflating until it was too late, and they'd fall dead from what looked like completely natural causes, with nothing but lifeless eyes and too cold skin greeting whoever would happen across their body the next morning, with the Stranger long since gone and going about her day as Gwen.

However, she wanted this man to know his doom, know its crushing hand wrapped tight around his windpipe as the lack of oxygen brought him down to his knees. Powerless, desperate and unable to call for help or do anything other than suffer a painful death...because the knowledge of his own morality just made it that much sweeter as he clawed at the ground, nails bleeding as he scratched his way towards the door, but getting slower and slower by the moment as death dragged him back with a patiemt hand.

But the moment the light was about to leave his eyes and leave that glossy sheen of nothingness, Gwen had to force her gaze away just like she always did, own breath stuttering for half a second as her hands gave a sudden tremor, hardly noticeable through her still statue but she could feel her individual fingers knocking together as something flashed before her mind, painful and raw like it had only happened yesterday, something that she'd desperately pushed so far into the haunted shrouds of her mind in an effort to forget it...but she never did, how could she? How could someone ever forget the day they became the an only child?

She could remember hacking coughs with splatters of staining blood on the raggedy cloth she used to wipe at their mouths, their pale clammy skin that constantly sheened with perspiration no matter how many times she placed a cold cloth on their heads. Their glazed over eyes, their boiling skin that seemed hot enough to blister whenever she'd place a comforting hand in their own...she remembered her useless fear, her terror, her praying to the saints every night for mercy, for them to take her instead, for them to do something, anything but take her only memory of home away from her.

But the saints never listened, of course they didn't. Why would they waste their gifts upon another Barell street rat who was too weak to do anything other than watch as her brothers became nothing more than living and breathing corpses that were rotting from the inside out. And most of all she remembered the day that those hacking breaths stopped, remembered their skin that turned hard and stiff...remembered her desperation at what she'd been sure was a weak heartbeat as they were taken away and she was restrained from men she'd never met, screaming and begging before something welled up inside her...and the streets she's stood on were suddenly bathed in red.

The Strangers eyes snapped open, but there wasn't a hint of that little defenceless girl inside of them anymore, because Gwen Rietveld was dead, and what had taken her place was nothing more than an unfeeling monster as she stood up on steady legs and walked away when her amplified hearing heard no sounds of life coming from the room, coming from Herald. Escaping just in time as a maid strolled into the bedroom just to find her boss dead with blood leaking out of his eyes and her terrified screams filled the night air.

However it was Ketterdam...there was always screams haunting the night, and so not a soul even blinked an eyelash in response. They never did.