She can feel the eyes on here, feels every glance and peak and look. They feel like needle piercing the back of her neck and pulling every piece of hair off her head. Her friends are no where to be seen and the noise around her hit a crescendo. There are voices all around her, eyes following her every movement and dread in her stomach.

She can’t remember the last time any of these people said a word to her. Couldn’t remember that last time they looked with warm eyes. They were everywhere, and she felt trapped under their binding gazes. She finds the other two to her three. Chatting with another pair by their designated table. The politicians surrounding her whisper and wearily part ways to let her past. There is fear in their eyes, plain as days and as blunt as their poorly concealed knives.

They were fearful of what she could achieve and banded together to kill her and her friends. She had know the plot before they had even finalized it. The guns on her hips and the knives in her boots ensured she would be the one the walk out of the room.

What she doesn’t understand is why they are being so unsubtle about it. Why they are whispering aloud, why they haven’t attacked yet. She sits in her assigned seat and waits for the minister to begin his speech. Her friends join her on either side and the scrutiny on her person doubled. She makes sure not to eat or drink any of the beverages and food brought to her. A series of people walk and talk on the podium, finishes and another follows. It goes on for more than and hour before anything happened.

And from the most unexpected place.

The dagger is buried inside her stomach when the lights dim and the music begins to play. She doesn’t scream, doesn’t jolt and doesn’t pull the knife from her stomach. She knows now why they had all been unsubtle. The two people she had trusted the most had joined them in their scheme and they thought themselves invincible.

She didn’t wake from the dead just to die by the hands of a traitor. She doesn’t hesitate putting a bullet in his head, and knife in her other friends neck. A bottle of champagne bursts over the closest persons head, the fall to the floor with a thump and she picked up their fallen gun. She ends up killing 7 before she can even feel the blood leak to her skin through her clothes. And another 7 by the time she makes it to the door. She can see the ministry high officials had already fled the Gala. She races to her car with bullets flying at her and from her. Her next few shots aren’t life threatening but life debilitating. Some would never walk again, another’s arm with a messy shot in the shoulder that will end up in amputation. She makes sure they are all as painful as possible. A slice of the guard at her car and he is bleeding out at her feet.

She feels no remorse as she leaves the bodies of her long time friends behind. She had already run through every scenario that could happen, and their betrayals was one of many.

The phones rings from the glovebox, she opens it with a sigh, paying no mind to the burning in her gut and the pulsing of her temples. And without a single word from her mouth she hears a familiar voice on the other end.

“Is she dead?”

She laughs quietly, apparently they weren’t the only ones, and manipulated her vocal cords to that of the trash back on that polished floor.

“Yes, went off without a hitch.”

“Great, I’ll get the boy and put him up on market. I know a few high bidders that has been begging for a fresh child. The rest of the team is waiting at the penthouse.”

She clicks the phone shut and speeds dangerously past one hundred. She dials a number she has long since mesmerized.

“Darlin, we’ve got a problem.”

“So you were right?”

“Absolutely, they are dead and after our boy. Get the plane up and running and meet me at the safe house with him.”

“Make sure to shower before you meet us. We don’t want him knowing what you were doing while we got ready for…vacation.”

“Got it, see you in a bit.”