Puppets and Their Strings

Vera collapsed onto her bed, pressing her face into her pillow and sighing. The prospect of rest after such a long day seemed too good to be true.

She sat up, groaning, then yawned. Her bleary voice was muffled by the back of her hand pressed over her mouth as the other arm stretched above, pulling out her tired and protesting muscles as she hoped beyond hope that there'd only be one picture beneath her door tomorrow.

Lowering her arms with a moan, Vera rolled up her sleeves and unstrapped her forearm sheathes, laying them on the table at the foot of her bed and rubbing the red marks the straps had left. She did the same for her thigh sheathes but she removed the knives, leaving them out so the poison smeared on the blades would evaporate. If left on the blades too long, they would corrode.

Pulling her hoodie over her head, she tossed it over a chair, followed by her scarf and her loose black cargo pants before she slumped facefirst back onto the bed, too tired to even gather a pillow under her.

A soft thump sounded on the bed beside her, and the rustle of sheets warned of an approaching being before a small, fuzzy, black head nuzzled against Vera's cheek, rumbling with affection. She rolled over and propped herself up on an elbow, forgetting her fatigue for the moment and offering a hand for the kitten to sniff. Bypassing the sniffing, he bumped his head into her hand, rubbing against it and eliciting a grin from Vera, a genuine smile despite her exhaustion. She poked his tiny wet nose and scratched his ears, causing a corresponding swell in the volume of his purring.

"Hey there, Kuro... What've you been up to today, my little stray?"

Not surprisingly, the cat didn't answer.

Vera flicked his nose and he tumbled off the bed, landing on the floor with a bump. She chuckled at the sight, trying not to laugh full out only to fail miserably as the cat's disgruntled face popped back into view. She laughed wildly, great big heaving laughs that she was unable to stop.

God, it felt good to laugh again.

Vera sat up, blinking back tears of laughter and hoisting the little cat back onto the bed, gazing into his golden eyes with ones almost identical.

"We're not too different, you and me," she mused, ruffling his fur. She grinned at him one last time before reaching over and flicking off the light.

The late-night sounds of the city washed through her window and flowed over her as she crushed her head into the pillow and hugged the cat to her, trying to keep her mind clear of ill thought.

For the first time in weeks, she slept like the dead.

An obnoxiously bright ray of sunlight slanted through the window of Vera's apartment, illuminating the dust motes floating through the air and heralding the start of a new day.

Vera sat up, holding up a hand to ward off the persistent beams of light emanating from the giant ball of fire known as the sun. She squinted, almost blind, until her eyes had adjusted. Even once they were, the harsh light assaulted her sensitive eyes, aggravating her to no end.

All right, yeah. Okay, I'm up. You can stop your heralding now.

The sun remained unperturbed.

When it refused to take the hint, Vera groaned and rolled over and over and off the bed, landing with a thump. A wash of humid air burst over her, one that smelled suspiciously of...fish?

Kuro butted her with his head and she scratched him in return, enjoying the way his silky fur slipped along under her fingers.

Vera gazed pensively at him, slightly envious. Al least he had someone who loved him, cared for him. All she had was someone who paid her (she had killed him) and one other... someone she had never seen, someone who -she flicked a glance at the door- gave her her assignments.

Sitting up, she dragged herself to her feet and tottered over to her gear, slotting the knives she had left out to dry back into their sheathes. The sharp click they made was music to her ears.

Vera turned back to the window just as a cloud threw dark shadows across her window and a fat droplet pinged off the glass.

Great. Rain.

Vera was fuming. Of all the days to be given an unusual assignment, they had to pick today.

When it was cold.

And raining.

Perfect.

She had been walking for almost half an hour, the rain soaking steadily through her rather thin hoodie and chilling her to the bone before she finally reached her destination.

A tall, old-fashioned building rose in front of her, the top hidden in the low-lying clouds. A small sigh of exasperation escaped her as she studied the paper in her palm, trying not to recognize the blonde face on it. Below the face was written "Ronic Apartments, Floor 26, Room 209. Quiet."

Still confused as to why this particular assignment had such specifications, Vera stared up at the building.

Floor 26...

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