"The Winters Night Story"
By Kelentaria Firestealer

Chapter 1: Death Approaches
She stood on the edge of the cliff looking over the edge, and the drop to the water below. Her black hair flew in wisps in the wind. She slowly looked toward the starlit sky sending the wind rustling through her black, heavily feathered wings. She felt the sudden euphoria of the wind, and felt the need to fly. She again looked over the edge moved to jump off. Instead of jumping she decided to do it more subtly by just walking off the edge. She fell momentarily, but wasn't worried. She pulled her wings up, and caught the wind. She flapped her wings hard, and rose quickly, but the wind changed. Her wings bent upward; she tried to flap them again to remain airborne, but her wings were bent at such an angle that she slid through the air. She plummeted to the water below.

She woke up quickly, and rolled over to see her boyfriend, Jase, still asleep. She glanced at the clock on the night-stand, and groaned. It was time for work. She sighed, sat up, and stretched. She stood and stripped herself of one of his shirts, and grabbed a towel out of the linen closet near the bathroom. She threw the towel onto the rack, and opened the thin curtain of the shower, hopped in, and closed the curtain. She turned on the water, and started washing the bumps, cuts, and scrapes. She took a full shower, and then she was done she turned off the water and wrapped herself in the towel she had gotten.
She walked out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom; she smiled when she saw Jase still asleep on their bed. She walked toward the bed, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He yawned and sat up; he stretched, and looked around. He gave her a rueful smile. She looked down to realize her towel had slipped, and gave him a knowing smile. She let the towel fall to the floor, as she watched his face light up with sexual want. For a moment it seemed all time stopped, as she stood butt naked in front of him. It was too bad nothing would happen she just didn't have the time to do anything before work. He crawled to the edge of the bed and began kissing her on the mouth.
"Jase...I have...go...work." she said between the kisses. He realized he had lost with "the dreaded work", so he pulled back. He lay back down, and watched her get dressed. She sat on the bed, back to him getting the under stuff on.

She stood her underwear and bra on; she rummaged through the bottom drawer in her dresser to find her weapons. She set each on the end of the bed putting each in its black holster. She put on her black, leather, lace-up, strapless shirt. She also pulled on her tight leather pants, and began putting each weapon in its place. There was a in a Glock 22 (.40 caliber) shoulder holster, a modded semi-automatic .357 Magnum in a holster on her thigh, a .22 Derringer as a back-up weapon on her ankle; she also had a knife long enough to be a sword (sword-knife) resting against her spine, as well as a knife on each forearm, and one on her thigh about half as long as the one down her back, but about the same size as the ones on her arms. After everything was on and ready to go; she went over to the mirror, and put on what little make-up she wore, which mainly consisted of eye-liner, maybe some mascara, some nail polish, and a dash of blush for her all too pale face. When she finished her make-up she smiled devilishly. She sat slowly on the bed and put on her big black Goth boots. She did it carefully as not to wake Jase, who was sleeping again. She kissed his sleeping form on the forehead, and put on her trench coat and got her car keys before walking out of the apartment.
She got in her black Camaro, and drove to work. She actually drove faster than normal because she ended up at work three minutes early rather that of her usual 15 minutes late. She looked at the clock and sighed 'maybe I should just stay in the car for the next 18 minutes, but what's the point in that'. She looked at herself in the rearview mirror to see if she smeared her make-up. Seeing that she didn't, she did her best stare, an emotionless, cold stare. I got to say if looks could kill we'd both be dead.

She knew if she ever carried a purse she would never live it down because she worked with manly men, and the only way to be "one of the boys" was to be tougher than any of them, but with her strapless, tight leather shirt, and her tight leather there really wasn't room for much other than her weapons, so she did what any self respecting woman with very little room, she took her money, cell phone, and a few other things, and shoved it down her shirt and hoped of them staying there. She opened the car door, and got out.