A Gathering of Hunters The redhead walked into the room, her eyes casually sweeping the figures who were sitting there waiting for the meeting to begin. "So Cathy," Aileen said softly into her throat mic, "can you tell me who the competition is?" Using the mini-cameras on Aileen's clothes Cathy must have run some image comparisons, because she answered her remarkably quickly. "The schoolgirl blonde in the corner chewing gum is Thrill-kill, a wanted woman in twenty states so far," she said crisply. "She's an impulse killer, so be careful around her," she cautioned. Aileen tried to not let her surprise show, but it was hard. The little blonde looked like she had just walked off some campus, looking around the room curiously while she happily chewed her bubblegum. The mini-skirt and blouse couldn't have concealed a weapon if they wanted, though she did have a curiously large purse beside her. "The young man dressed all in black calls himself Solitude," Cathy continued on, "he's a Goth wanna-be who kills with his knives mostly. He's good at faking suicides, so he hasn't got much a criminal record yet." The black haired Solitude really did look a bit like a wanker, his stylish hair and black clothes giving him an artificial air. Still, the gleam in his eyes wasn't faked, the look of a man who not only killed but who enjoyed doing it. Aileen didn't need help recognizing the next killer. "Sister Rosette..." she murmured, looking at the woman dressed in a traditional nun's robes, her rosary hung around her neck. But she wasn't a sister in any order that Aileen knew, instead using her steel wire rosary to strangle and her robes to conceal a multitude of weapons. "Rosette's been busy," Cathy agreed, "she's got several more kills in the last few months, as well as some I can't confirm as hers but bearing her signature." "Is she taking the anti-psychotics still?" Aileen asked, vividly remembering the one time that she had been at ground zero when Rosette had completely lost it. The woman had gruesomely killed the pastor of a small county church and the only reason that Aileen hadn't intervened had been that he was their target. "According to on-line sources, her prescription is up to date," Cathy answered as Aileen sat a little apart from the others. "Great," Aileen murmured. "The other guy is alias Pyre," Cathy continued, "as you can imagine he's a pyromaniac. He gets off on burning things or ideally people, with multiple arson accusations but few convictions." A pause, "He's a brilliant chemist, igniting nearly untraceable fires." Pyre looked deceptively average, brown hair falling into his eyes and glasses gleaming. The only unusual thing about him was the faint twitch in his hands, almost as if he wanted to be flicking a lighter or match, maybe. Dressed in his plain suit he could have been one of a thousand businessmen, fading into the crowds easily. "And who is the last woman?" Aileen asked, looking over at the black haired woman who was leaning up against the wall, her long hair falling limply around her face. Compared to all the others in the room she was dressed rather sloppily in a battered looking sweater and jeans, looking away from the various killers shyly. "I don't know," Cathy admitted the fact reluctantly. "She's not in my criminal database, and I haven't got any hits off the FBI, CIA or NSA networks," she said. "So she's new," Aileen murmured. "Or effectively off the usual radar," Cathy suggested grimly. "Heads up, looks like the boss is incoming," she warned. Grace strode into the room in a wave of self-confidence, the black haired woman looking over the band of killers thoughtfully. She was gorgeous in her power suit and Aileen felt a flash of desire that she quickly suppressed. No matter how beautiful she was Aileen knew Grace was a ruthless killer, and not someone you ever wanted to cross. "I want to thank you specialists for responding so quickly to our request for qualified personnel," Grace said smoothly, "I'll be giving you a summary of the target and it's capabilities." "Neat," Thrill-kill murmured in a perky voice, sliding a bit forward in her chair as the others paid close attention to Grace. An image was posted behind Grace, the face of a human woman on one side, then a much more demonic visage on the other side. "This is Descent," Grace said coldly, "in both her human disguise and her true form. She appears to be a demon, possessed with enhanced strength, durability and regenerative powers." "Shapeshifter?" the quiet one asked softly. "To an extent, Deathwish," Grace addressed the woman, "survivors of encounters have witnessed her growing claws, for instance." "What are her weaknesses?" Pyre asked softly, eyes glowing with eagerness. "I suspect it's vulnerable to fire," Grace purred then looked over to Aileen, "but why don't we have our expert explain?" Aileen got up, her simple black suit snug on her body. She could feel assessing eyes on her and fought back as smile as she walked up to Grace, nodding to her slightly. Looking at the group she said, "Descent is vulnerable to most forms of conventional injury, but reports say that her regenerative capacity is remarkable." "Which means...?" Solitude asked. 'Fool,' Aileen firmly kept her thoughts from her face as she said, "If you manage to hurt her you have to follow up on your attack as fast as possible, you must keep on hurting her or she'll simply heal up and kill you." "She just keeps going and going," Thrill-kill grinned, "just like the bunny. Good, I think she'll be fun to play with." Aileen decided to just ignore that. "Go to a priest and have your weapons blessed," she said, "it'll increase their effectiveness. Also, holy water, silver and certain types of incense will slow down or even poison a being like this." "The local Bishop has ordered his priests to do the blessings, no questions asked," Grace added from where she casually stood nearby. "I don't really believe in God," Deathwish asked her softly, "will that make the blessed weapons ineffective?" "Descent believes, I think," Aileen said to her dryly, "and that's all that matters." Silently she wondered at the deadness that she saw in the other woman's brown eyes, a utter and complete hopelessness that seemed to fill Deathwish. She looked away, shivering a bit and said to Grace, "I think that's about it." "Our other target is Sister Samantha Teresa, a priest from a obscure religious order called the Knights Templar," Grace showed another picture of a brown haired woman, her hair tied back in a ponytail. "She carried twin blessed pistols," she said, "and has certain abilities of a... holy nature." Before anyone could ask Aileen said flatly, "She's a paladin, basically. She can heal with a laying on of hands, undead run away from her normally and she can even track certain kinds of unholy creatures mystically." "You're an expert on this, too?" Pyre asked with a sly smile. Aileen gave him a flat look, silently warning him not to ask any more. "You could say that," she answered grimly. "The Lady will provide any additional equipment you need, within reason," Grace said simply. A grim smile, "The only regulation we're imposing on you is this: while Descent and her ally are at the Daughters of Artemis you will not attack them or attempt to damage the nightclub." "Aww," Thrill-kill pouted,. "why?" "The bar is neutral territory," Grace said coldly, "recognized by the Lady herself. If any of you do decide to strike at the club, the next bounty will be on your heads." With that Grace collected the photos and papers and left, heels clicking on the floor. Waiting a moment they all got up, but Solitude made a beeline towards Deathwish. "I know the rest of us here by reputation at least," he said challengingly, "but I've never heard of you. What's so special about you that Grace brought you in?" Deathwish looked at him a moment then said flatly, "Cap me, right through the head." "Huh?" Pyre looked shocked. Thrill-kill whipped out a Magnum from her purse faster than anyone could see and fired, punching bullets through the grim young woman's face and splattering her head up against the wall behind her. "Don't say I ever turned down a lady," she smirked. "You homicidal little...." Solitude barked. "Look!" Pyre squeaked. Deathwish's body convulsed, body jerking wildly as if electricity was being pumped through her corpse. With incredible speed her body began to rebuild, blood, bone and flesh restoring themselves layer by layer until she looked like she did before she was shot. As her hair began to regrow Deathwish opened up her eyes, blinking a moment to focus them. "My god," Aileen murmured. Deathwish pushed herself up, scowling at the blood that splattered her clothes. "Brains are always a bitch to get out of clothes," she grumbled then looked up to meet their shocked gazes. "I can't die," she explained grimly, "though I wish I could." 'This is going to be an interesting job,' Aileen thought.
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