PART 1

When a soul is young to the world, everything is black and white. For most, it's a simple time when right and wrong are well-defined structures and the magic of Disney reassures a child that love will conquer all evil.

Alas, as the years roll by, a person becomes jaded. Life takes her cruel paintbrush and mixes the monochromatic palette, until what is left is a murky grey that invades the very conscience, and the clear lines of right and wrong cease to exist. All that remains is a person who tries to justify their actions within their own mind, a soul at war with itself.

The corpse beside me was that person and I despised him for it. I despised his beauty, his Greek-godlike figure and his perfectly manicured hands that reeked of money. He had justified straying from his loving wife and young children because they no longer gave him the attention he desired. His name was Xavier Mecyre, and he chased pretty little things in tight skirts to regain the thrill of his youthful days, and this was the reason I had killed him.

"You have nothing to worry about," he had laughed while nuzzling my neck and sliding a hand dangerously high up the inside of my thigh. "My wife is far too busy with the kids to even notice I'm gone. Besides, you're hotter than she ever was, even before she ruined her body giving birth to those brats."

It was the last time he would ever berate the woman who had borne his offspring, as I plunged the needle into the side of his neck without hesitation. His lust-filled eyes that had previously glowed in the interior lights of his Mercedes turned from heat to intense shock. His body twitched and writhed as the last throes of life ebbed away. It was all over in under a minute, and I watched on silently as the lethal concoction excelled at the task that I had set it. The sombre waif known to many as Death, crept into the car and stole his victim into the night.

I firmly believe everyone eventually finds their grey area. Some just embrace it more than others. Xavier honestly thought his actions were righteous because he had decided that he deserved more than what was already in his hands. This never-ending lust had become his undoing and the very reason he was now deceased.

And me? Well, I had just murdered someone. He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last. It should have been chilling how easy it was for me, but instead, I felt nothing but righteous in my actions. Did that make me any better than the life I had just taken? I justified my actions in the exact same way he had. But yet, I felt whole. I had judged the man and his indiscretions and found him lacking. It was glorious, the pure power that flowed through my veins, knowing I had set the world back on its axis, albeit momentarily.

My musings were broken by crazed laughter echoing around the expensive interior of his beautiful car. It shocked me until I realised the sound was my own doing. The laughter bubbled like a spring from my painted red lips, unbounded and unstoppable.

I had found my grey area, and damn if I wasn't happy about it.

PART 2

The call came at exactly 3am. Olivia knew this because she was lying open-eyed, facing the glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. Her ringtone was abrupt and professional, an echo of her own personality. She grabbed the slimline phone and quickly slipped into a satin robe as she glided out of the room. Caller ID alerted her that this was not a social call.

"Joe, what have you got for me?" Olivia answered, no trace of sleep clouding her voice.

"We found Xavier's body. His Mercedes was located off the north side shore of Lake Ilke, we're working on getting the car out of the water now. We need you down here pronto Liv." The head detective was direct and to the point, but Olivia could hear the exhaustion creeping out of his voice. This would make the fourth confirmed death in three months, and the case had taken its toll on everyone.

"I'll see you in thirty minutes. Text me the coordinates."

She hung up, neither of them wasting any time on formalities. As one of the most successful Crime Scene Investigators in the state, she was on good terms with the all of the city police force, and Joe was a personal friend. They had worked together many times previously, always with success.

Olivia turned on the switch beside her and slid off her robe, letting her milky skin bathe in the light that flooded the room before she slipped on clothing more suitable for the job ahead. Once properly attired, she knelt beside her husband's side of the bed, gently shaking his snoring frame.

"James, wake up honey. I have to go to work. There's a crime scene at the lake."

He stirred, and with a groan, his sleep-filled chocolate brown eyes opened with confusion. "Mmm, what?" he mumbled, still unaware of his surroundings.

She repeated her statement, impatience now infiltrating her tone.

"Are you serious? I've barely seen you lately." James shot up in bed, disgust flooding his expression.

"It's not my fault you didn't get home until midnight tonight."

Olivia was weary. This was a discussion they faced almost daily. James didn't understand her job or the hours it required. He was a prominent lawyer, a few years her senior, although they had been college sweethearts. He had always wanted a trophy wife to parade on his arm to social events, and her job was nothing but a hobby in his eyes, no matter how highly she was held in esteem by her colleagues.

"I told you, I had a board meeting to attend and it dragged on. There was nothing I could do." His voice was curt and abrupt, leaving no room for her to disagree.

She wondered briefly whether he had always been this domineering. Had she just been blinded before by love and youth?

"I don't have time to argue, I'll see you later."

Olivia stood up, vexed by the situation. As she turned to go, James caught her hand in his. He pressed her fingertips gently to his lips in a soft gesture, so foreign from his domineering statements. For a moment she felt the old familiar tingles shoot up her spine, but she pushed them away viciously and nodded at him before walking out of their apartment and into the night.

PART 3

Detective Joe Wilson rubbed his temples viciously, as if it would relieve the pounding headache that had encroached on his day. He stared blankly at the muted TV in the break room as footage rolled by of Xavier Mecyre's final resting place at Lake Ilke. The fourth related death in three months, and so far no one had been charged. All they knew was the killer was female and blonde.

The reporters were having a field day with this story and there was nothing he could do to stop them. He had no clear leads, no current suspects, nothing to match the DNA they had collected. It was a nightmare, and he had the chief of police breathing down his neck every step of the way.

The TV suddenly flicked off, halfway through yet another interview with Xavier's family, and he turned over his shoulder to see the culprit. Olivia was standing by the doorway, coffee cup in one outstretched hand, remote in the other.

"Don't do this to yourself, Joe. You'll only make it worse watching that garbage," she commanded in a soft tone.

"I know. I just can't figure this one out, Liv. It's doing my god damn head in."

He welcomed Olivia's gift of coffee and lifted the steaming cup to his lips eagerly.

"You'll connect the dots—you always do. We already know there must be one woman tying all these men together. She's obviously a lunatic, targeting the cheating husbands. It's been the same story every time and the same murder weapon and toxicology reports for every victim. We've found the same DNA at every dump site. We just need someone to pair it to. You'll get your man...well your woman, I should say," Olivia admitted with a bitter chuckle.

She settled in the chair next to him and crossed her legs, her long blonde hair tied in a bun. She had changed out of the unflattering crime scene uniform and into a black skirt and satin blouse, ready for the briefing with the police chief. She looked immaculate for someone who probably only got three hours sleep in the past forty-eight hours.

Liv was a beautiful woman. She was also the most talented CSI he had ever worked with. Her attention to every last detail went beyond a level he had seen before, and she saw things no other eye could pick up. Olivia had helped him solve more cases than he cared to admit in the past ten years. He trusted her and her judgment explicitly.

"I just want to catch this madwoman before she kills again," Joe told Olivia, firm on this resolve. He had to catch this killer. He was so close—he knew it.

PART 4

This. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Months of planning, research and patience had all led up to this—the only man who mattered. I would take from this bitch the man she loved and her life. For she had taken from me more than anyone would ever know.

I stood by the casement window, looking down at the streetlights as an Uber pulled up beside the apartment. My hair was loose, with small waves framing my face. I slid the soft grey satin robe from my shoulders and let it fall to the ground, revealing a toned body and the finest lingerie money could buy. I was ready for my prey.

A man leapt out of the vehicle, dressed in an immaculate-looking suit. I watched as he leapt up the stairs at the entry to the building like a child on Christmas morning. He was excited. He had no idea what I had in store for him.

I sensed rather than heard the key in the lock, and I knew he had entered the apartment. He padded into the lounge, calling out her name. I felt the rage fill me, undeniable rage. That should have been my name he was calling. He was mine.

He reeked of liquor as he entered the bedroom. I had my back to him as he saw me in the glow of the streetlights, the curtains floating around like a halo. He crept up behind and wrapped his arms around my body, crushing my breasts between his large hands. As he buried his face into my hair, he suddenly stiffened, realising even in his drunken haze that I was not the person he expected to find.

I turned in his arms, and confusion and shock etched the lines of his face. It was a beautiful sight to see. Vindication flooded my being. Revenge was a sweet, sweet feeling.

"Brooke?"

He choked out the word, barely coherent. He was too busy trying to process what had just happened to notice the syringe in my left hand. I plunged it into his neck, pouring the lethal contents into his blood stream.

"See you in hell, you bastard."

PART 5

James was missing.

It had been eight days since he left his downtown office at eight pm on a Friday night and vanished without a trace. Olivia knew the glances of pity from her co-workers didn't bode well. The similarities between his disappearance and the other four murders were strikingly similar.

She sat at home, waiting desperately for news. When a knock sounded, Liv fumbled to unlock the door, her unkempt hair and bags under her eyes completing the picture of concern. Behind the apartment doorframe, Joe was standing solemnly, and two fellow officers shadowed him.

"We found James. I'm sorry Liv."

Olivia's shoulders shook as silent tears flooded her face, and she wrung her hands anxiously. She looked into Joe's face, searching for answers, and he shook his slightly balding head with sadness and held out his arms. Olivia fell into them and sobbed on his shoulder. The other men stood by awkwardly, faces turned to the side, avoiding her outpouring of emotion.

"Why, Joe? Why would she take my James?"

Olivia wept openly, anger and grief flooding out of her small frame as Joe stroked her hair in an attempt to offer comfort. He led her gently over to the white leather couch in the centre of the room and helped her to sit down. Joe's shoulders seemed laden with the weight of bad news as he knelt beside her.

"Liv, James was having an affair. With his old secretary," Joe choked out.

Olivia's face fell. She knew the MO of their killer—she targeted cheaters—but to hear Joe say out loud that James had betrayed her before his death was devastating.

"With Meghan? How did you know? Have you arrested her?" The questions came tumbling out through the tears, heartbreak etched on every line of her countenance.

"It's all over, Olivia. She's definitely our woman. We found security footage of Meghan and James in his office. They had a fight a few months ago when James said he wouldn't leave you for her. Meghan got violent and threatened him, and then quit suddenly. There're some rather incriminating messages in her email linking her to the other victims too. I've got our people combing through her place right now, but I'm certain we've got the bitch. The DNA results will confirm it."

Olivia nodded and sniffled, and then looked numbly around the walls, taking in the photographs of her life, the life that was a lie. It was hard to know how to mourn someone who had betrayed you in the worst imaginable way.

PART 6

The court case stretched out for months. Joe didn't understand why, because the evidence alone was tremendous. Meghan Dries was obviously an obsessive and violent woman who had a fetish for sleeping with married men. She also had a restraining order out against her from a high-school boyfriend for stalking, along with a history of unstable relationships.

On top of that, she had worked for, or been associated at one point in time, with all of the murdered men. Her lawyers fought for everything from mental instability to insisting she was framed. Meghan cried and screamed in court, maintaining all along that she had been set up. No one believed her, of course.

Specks of James' blood were found in her apartment. Her fingerprints had been discovered at all of the dump scenes, along with traces of DNA. She even wore the same brand and colour of red lipstick they had found on some of the victims. If ever there was a clear-cut case, it was this one.

Finally, it was all over. Meghan Dries would be behind bars for the rest of her miserable life.

Olivia had come to witness the sentencing. Joe offered her his arm as they left the courtroom door after the judge had handed down Meghan's sentence. Liv's black heels clipped along the pavement as camera flashes went off around them. Microphones were shoved in their faces, every reporter begging for the inside scoop from James' widow and the lead detective on the case.

They pushed through the sea of media hounds until one voice shouted louder than the rest.

"Brooke, are you pleased with the results today?"

Olivia stopped dead in her tracks, pulling Joe to a halt as she turned to face the reporter.

"What did you call me?" she demanded sharply. The man looked alarmed and quickly glanced down at his notes, shuffling through to see if he had made a mistake.

"Brooke, ma'am. Is that not your first name?"

Joe watched Olivia's face, confused as a flicker of an unknown emotion crossed it. Then her huge eyes welled up with tears as she wrapped her own arms around herself in a cocoon of comfort.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I go by my middle name: Olivia. The last person to call me Brooke was my late husband, James. You startled me."

The reporter fumbled as he tried to recover his wits from this bombshell, but Olivia quickly turned and pulled Joe towards the waiting car. Joe was certain Olivia was ready to leave behind the mess the supposed Black Widow had created of her life, and he didn't blame her one bit. It was finally over.

PART 7

Everything had gone perfectly to plan. The woman who stole my James away would rot in prison, I would have his money, and the world had a few less cheating men in it. Apart from my near slip up when the damn reporter called me Brooke, the whole escapade had been a major success.

I didn't feel guilty about condemning an innocent woman to life imprisonment. She was far from innocent in my eyes, for she had given up on the bonds of womanhood and taken what didn't belong to her. Meghan's grey area cost her life, just like the men I had killed.

I shrugged my grey jacket on with Joe's careful help. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the shiny length of the black sedan as cameras continued to flash around us, and it made me smile.

I knew three things for certain in that moment—my name was Brooke Olivia, revenge was sweet, and grey definitely was my colour.

Editor's Note: This story was the winner for the day 5 theme of Revenge!