PART II

THE CONGREGATION OF THE CROW

 

Fall, 1937

Crimson

 

“You wanna know what they told me, Crimson?”

 

“What.”

 

There was a blatant exasperation clear in Snide as he spoke. “They told me his skull was caved in. CAVED IN, CRIMSON!!” Crimson turned her head slightly in an attempt to lower the amount of spittle landing on her face as he yelled. 

 

Snide was bone white, his skin wrinkled, slack, and outright missing in some spots. Raw muscle and bone could be spotted in places where the flesh was stripped away, revealing old, blackened meat, and yellowed bone. He was a revenant, a human brought back from the dead. Usually his kind went out of their way to try and keep their appearances pleasant, to not look as macabre to ordinary people, but Snide took no such precautions.

 

The two of them sat in his office, parted by an ancient-looking desk: stacks of papers, blueprints and notes stacked atop. Old mementos from the revenant’s long life were hung up all over the walls: war medals; old, weathered photographs; and most notably: newspaper pages. The white papers lined large portions of the walls, headlines talking about various crimes and information leaks that Snide had helped with during his vast time in Aceton. The Lowdown was probably one of hundreds of gangs had been a part of, and luckily for him, he ruled over this one.

 

“How do you think that makes the Lowdown- no, ME look!? When one of my operatives not only completely fails their job, but brutalizes the one guy they were s’posed to make talk?”

 

“Badass.” Crimson muttered, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket. It was promptly swatted out of her hand by Snide before she could put it up to her mouth. “Hey! The hell was-”

 

“You listen to me, Crimson!!” She scowled as Snide raised his voice again, slowly leaning over to snag her cigarette back off the ground. “You’re on thin-ass ice, understand me? I mean, Jesus, it’s like every day it makes more and more sense why you’ve been through so many damn agencies.”

 

‘Agencies’, huh? More like glorified street gangs if anything.

 

He wasn’t wrong though, what was this now? The sixtieth? Seventieth? She never kept count, but the past forty-or-so years had given her plenty of chances to rack up terminations in groups like this. What was one more?

 

“If you’re tryna fire me, it doesn’t take this many words.” Crimson moved to put the cigarette in her mouth, decidedly further from Snide’s reach this time.

 

“No, no, I’m not firin’ you, Crimson. But you need to listen to me, understand what I’m saying. Got that?” She mustered feign interest as she nodded her head, lighting her cigarette. “Yer good at killin’, obviously, but sometimes jobs require more tact than just … massacring the whole place.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

He sighed at that. “And it’s become abundantly clear yer just not very good at jobs like that. Look, point is: I’ve got a mission for you, a chance to make up for your mistake.” Crimson was a little shocked at that. She was almost certain this was her last day here, a mistake like this would’ve gotten her fired from most other groups. 

 

She smiled to herself at that. Must be REALLY desperate, then. 

 

“This one won’t take much tact, either.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“There’s a small gang: call themselves the Stingers. They’ve been tryna encroach on our turf for a long-ass time, and they finally found a good way to do it. Been staking out in an old office building near us. Rent there is dirt cheap, this bein’ a ‘bad part of town’ n’ all, so it gives ‘em a good spot to coalesce so they can be a pain in our ass. We need ‘em taken out,  but there’s one big issue: they ain’t renting out the first floor. There’s four stories, and scouts say there’s people all over the first, second and fourth floors. They’re on the third. See what I’m getting at here?”

 

Crimson nodded. Gettin’ in’s gonna be weird.

 

“I would send out someone who’s a little more … generous with their violence, but they’ve been a nuisance for far too long a time, and I hear you’re good with odd entrances. This ain’t anything professional like the last job you fucked up, tear ‘em all to shreds for all I care. Just do your best to take most of them out, you could even let a few go if you want. The goal here is to skeeve ‘em out, make any stragglers hit the road for good, send a message to anyone who’s got the same ideas as them. BUT!” Snide pointed a finger straight at her, “You cause ANY casualties, and I hear about it? Yer straight out of here.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” Crimson tried her best to look uncaring about the job, but couldn’t quell the giddiness within her. A whole job for her and Ian to go at full capacity, no holds barred.  She wasn't certain they’d get another mission like that for a long while. 

 

It’ll be good practice. 

 

But Crimson knew practice was one of the smallest reasons for her excitement in that moment.

 

Snide pulled out a manilla folder, sliding it over the desk to Crimson. She picked it up, looking at the front, which read ‘THE STINGERS’ on the front in big, bold letters.

 

“That should have everything you need. Address, work schedules for the other businesses in the building, high profile members, building layout, all of that.”

 

Crimson opened the file, leafing through it. Not a ton of documents were stored within it, but it was still quite a lot for the job itself. Get in, kill as many guys as possible, get out. The only real trouble would be entry, and she had an idea of how to do that.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

He seemed averse to the response, just as he had each other time Crimson had had nothing more to ask. “No questions, nothing?” Lowdown dealt primarily in information and usually didn’t do hitjobs, so a bruno like her who never felt the need to seek out any extra info stuck out like a sore thumb.

 

“Nope. Seems straightforward enough.” Crimson pushed her chair back, getting up as she shoved the folder into her jacket. Snide frowned, he was clearly still unsure of her, but she’d show him. Not out of any desire for respect, though. 

 

Her and Ian kind of just needed the money. 

 

“Alright then.” Snide spoke as Crimson was already on her way towards the door. “Don’t mess this up!!” he yelled from behind his desk. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it done!” 

 

Crimson smiled as she stepped out of the door, she could feel Snide’s glower even from this distance. She didn’t know why she liked that feeling, being underestimated.

 

Makes it all the richer when you pull it off, I guess.

 

And softens the blow if you fucked it up. Not that that’d be an issue though. This one wouldn’t be all too hard.

 

Hopefully.