As the Ice Melts

Chapter I: Broken Deal

After months of ruthless scavenging and hunting in a world in ashes, Stephanie and Monica now seek prey on the untouched crime city of New York, still the city that never sleeps. The wide, colossal screens that hanged through the tall buildings were all blacked out. All that was left was either rubble and debris spread through out dusty ground and the cement floors of the unused facilities and theatres, or hunters and murderers thoroughly spread through the criminal underworld of the ravaged, burning city. The duo was took part in both sides ; the gangs and preying upon the weak, and the charitable deeds as helping people in need. They did both for survival, the golden gift in the era of death and decay. 

The two were in journey to make an "old friend" talk and squeal, as he stole their hard-earned "treasures". The blonde insisted that they go through the market, where it would be impossible for them to be detected, as it was crowded with salesmen and butchers ; alcoholics and prostitutes ; dogs and cats and many more. A sight on them would be either inexplicable and unbelievable, or a simple daydream. The blonde grasped the brunette's hand, walking through cloth that hanged through rusty meat stores and clothing stalls ; shades of red and orange stained and broke through the cloth that blanketed the cages the salesmen and women sheltered in. After using both feet and legs to walk through the massed marketplace, they safely reached their old friend's fortress, guarded by only the most muscled the criminal underworld has to offer. This would mean their friend would have already used their money!

"What do we do now?", whispered the half-Russian, ducking under a couch from out of nowhere stealthily, though her heart was not as stealthily as she was. The beating of her heart was like a drumming song, sounding and beating harmoniously with fear.

"We kill them.".

"Yeah, yeah.", the brunette answers.

"You're serious, aren't you?".

"Yes, I am.".

"Oh, Lord. Please, tell me we'll never do things like this again.", pleaded Monica, disgusted of her friend's plans.

"Can't say I'll guarantee you anything, honey.", said Stephanie, before preparing her twin USP.45s for her long envisioned battle. At the heart of combat, she can finally use her informal training of ballistic weaponry. 

The blonde charges to enemy fortifications with her strong, determined will and her thirst for vengeance against the one who robbed her of her "treasures". The brunette gets her shotgun for her backpack, and rushed to the short-lived battle. She shot one of the guards head off, making her scream and shout like a little girl. Stephanie luckily evades the storm of bullets that flew towards her, like the "best" of the criminal underworld, whilst shooting off the heads of her enemies like a trained marksman. She enters the old manor like the boss of the office, bombastically moving her feet  through the stairsteps, with her pistols aimed at the air. 

The brunette follows a different path, going through the what used to be the servants' stairs up. A whole battalion waiting for Stephanie was found dead by her two eyes, almost vomiting on the spot. Whilst she was watching brutes bleed their body fluids out and trying to breathe through punctured lungs, a survivor appears behind her, about to shoot her with a pistol. Before anything happened, a blonde struck a knife inside his neck. Blood spurted out of his throat, as he groaned in pain helplessly ; his sight blacked out immediately after. Monica squeals in fear and pity, whilst Stephanie, with her clothes now stained with droplets of blood, was smiling as if she did not do a single sin.

"Never do that again, Steph. Please.", exclaimed the brunette.

"Didn't I say I can't guarantee anything?", the blonde said with a smirk.

The teenaged girl, who was molded by death and tragedy, murder and sadness, injustice and poverty, now continued her journey, traveling with her tireless legs and feet upstairs to the office, where their old friend would have been stationed. A pair of guards was brought demise, before knocks were heard. Those were the same knocks that made Carlos have goosebumps. A kick on the wooden door and it shatters. He screams in fear as he tries to prepare his gun, though it had no bullets yet. She smirks devilishly as she aims her gun to the old friend.