52: Don't Fear The Reaper

                                    

                                          
Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of violence and death
"All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are
Come on, baby (don't fear the reaper)
Baby, take my hand (don't fear the reaper)
We'll be able to fly (don't fear the reaper)
Baby, I'm your man"
-Don't Fear the Reaper, Blue Öyster Cult
Katya felt almost a contradictory sense of buoyancy as she parked her motorcycle in the alley and took off her helmet, lighting a cigarette to calm her nerves before she went in. 
This was going to be one of the easier jobs she had worked in the last couple months. There were approximately two guards, one at the entrance, and then one who was supposed to be patrolling the inside of the old church during the day. She happened to know, however, that he spent most of the day sitting behind the front desk playing World of Warcraft. They would both be easy kills. 
She had had Ivan stash the corpse that was supposed to be masquerading as her behind the dumpster earlier that morning, along with several cans of petrol, so all she had to do was drag it inside, plant her knife on it, and burn it beyond recognition along with the rest of the place. All in all, she could likely be in and out in under an hour. 
She took a deep drag of the cigarette, let it steady her, feeling the smoke curling in her lungs. She should probably quit smoking, she thought, studying the cigarette between her fingers, the red lipstick staining the end. You never acted like you minded it, but now that she had a life ahead of her, a real life, she thought it was probably time to start taking care of herself so she could be around to enjoy it. 
Katya took another deep, steadying drag, before stubbing it out against the building and flicking it away distastefully. Right. Time to get to work.
She felt a strange sense of deja vu pricking at the edges of her awareness as she took aim at the guard who was leaning against the building next to the front door, pressing her lips to the barrel of the pistol before she lined up the sights with his head.  She stared at the red lip print shadowing the side of the barrel before squeezing the trigger and watching his head explode into nothing but red. 
His body dropped, brain matter splattered all over the wall, and Katya kept the gun dangling loosely from her hand, walking up to the front door. She didn't want to put it away just in case, but she didn't think she'd have anyone else waiting for her. 
Katya could not have been more wrong.
*
"I am coming with you." 
Your voice was nearing a hysterical pitch as you watched Ivan grab one of the bigger Glocks off the wall in Katya's little secret John Wick super spy room and make sure it was loaded before he shoved it into his pocket.
"Absolutely not. Boss lady would string me up by my balls. You stay here." 
Ivan was firm and insistent as he pushed past you, and you followed, your heart jackrabbiting against your chest. All you could think about was the fact that Katya was somewhere in trouble, that she had walked into a trap, and that you had to help her, had to get to her, that she could be hurt, oh God...
"Ivan, if you leave me here, I'm just going to follow you anyway. You might as well take me with you so you can keep an eye on me."
He paused, and you knew you had him. Slowly, he turned, his face like thunder. You scowled at him, feeling your heart fit to burst from your chest. "You will stay in the car."
Ivan's voice was firm, and you nodded, though you knew you had absolutely zero intentions of staying in the car. "Of course. I'll stay in the car, Ivan. Let's go."