Victim: Private Yoshika Sawashiro
Appearance: See image (tanned skin, slender figure, short brown hair, brown eyes
Apparel: See image, half dressed
Personality: A cheerful and upbeat young girl
Location: An alternate history WW2 where the Japanese have let women join the armed forces in the front line. Yoshika is taking a smoke break, and has let her guard down.
"The boss said there was only gonna be one bitch we had to get rid of", the larger one said. The thinner one sitting in the drivers seat simply grunted. They had been staking out the apartment for weeks now, waiting for the order to come down from upstate New York, where their employer lived. Yesterday, they had gotten a greenlight to go ahead. Their target was Carolina Evans, the daughter of some poor shmuck who'd done pissed off the most influential, richest, and certainly most deranged mobster on the East Coast. Now the simple plan to to snuff the girl got a whole lot more complicated.
"We're going to get rid of the other one", the thin one said in monotone. The large one nodded in agreement. Carolina was supposed to leave Hoboken next morning, to Alaska where the boss had zero pull. This meant tonight was their last chance.
Collateral damage sucked, but pissing off the boss sucked even more. A potentially fatal suck, in fact.
They got out of their car, breath fogging in the cold Jersey night.
The big one went to the trunk and took out a big golf club bag. Looking both ways, the pair walked across the street to the apartment entrance. The lobby was deserted, and the two encountered not a single soul as they walked up the flight of stairs to Carolina's apartment. "Number 345, right?", said the large one. "Right", confirmed the thin one. They both looked at the door in front of them. 345 was prominently affixed to the door. The faint sound of girlish laughter could be heard from behind the door. It was locked, of course.
The large one dropped the golf bag, and drew the zipper down. The cold gleam of metal revealed the deadly contents inside. The thin one took a short barreled breaching shotgun, and a suppressed Vz.61 submachine gun. The big one took a machete that looked well used, and a large sledge hammer. They didn't bother with masks or hoodies, confident in the fact that the boss could get rid of any security camera footage.
Carolina nuzzled up against Cindy's shoulder, giggling as the young black woman, clearly annoyed, tried to push her off. "Could you knock it off Carrie? I'm TRYING to study here." Cindy pushed up her glasses and tried to look as stern as she could manage. "Aww, c'mon Cindy, I'm just trying to lighten you up, y'know? You should learn to relax sometimes." Carolina unfolded herself off the couch, and padded over to the fridge. "You want a drink?" she said. "No thanks, I don't like to drin-". Cindy was cut off at that exact point by a thunderous bang, and the arrival of two heavily armed and mean looking men. Both girls shrieked, while the men pointed their weapons at them.
The thin one kept his submachine gun pointed at the girls from a distance, while the large one went over to restrain the two wimpering girls. The big one ziptied the girls arms behind their backs, and taped over their mouths with duct tape. He looked down to see two pairs of large doe eyes, tears welling. He felt his dick twitch. This was the best part, in his opinion. "Listen kids, nothing personal, but you're both going to die tonight, so I suggest you don't try anything except pray, otherwise you'll have a plenty painful death to go through." The thin one nodded in agreement.
The large one took out a videocamera and a tripod. The thin one grabbed both girls by their arms, and shoved them over to the wall. "We're filming." The thin one nodded again, and carefully folded the wire stock of the Vz.61, before pressing the gun against Cindy's forehead. The black girl, already terrified, became incontinent. A dark stain began to grow around the crotch area of her skirt, while urine puddled around her feet.
"P-p-please don't shoot please plea-", she began, before the thin one squeezed the trigger, sending a single .32 round through her skull, splattering her 19 year old brain across the white wall in a rorschach pattern of blood and bone fragments. Cindy's corpse crumpled to the floor. Blood pooled around her head.
Carolina was shaking hard. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer. She looked down at her friend, then looked away. Cindy's big brown eyes had stared straight at her, looking awfully accusatory. "This was your fault", they seemed to say.
"I'm sorry Cindy, I'm so sorry", Carolina sobbed.
The large one came over, and gently patted Carolina on her head. Carolina only shook harder, and closed her eyes. She knew this was it. She tried to make herself smaller.
A gloved hand took hold of her chin, and forced it up. She opened her eyes, only to see the last thing in the world she would ever see. The head of the sledge hammer made contact with the crown of her skull, cracking it open. Carolina stiffened, her legs and arms locking up tight as her central nervous system experienced massive blunt force trauma. The hammer was raised up again, dragging globs of brain and shreds of skin and hair into the air with it. It came down once more, and almost cleaved Carolina's head in two. Blood spurted out of the ruins of her head, adding to the mess that Cindy had left on the wall and the floor. Carolina's body crumpled to the floor, joining her friend.
The two men dragged the corpses over to the center of the living room. They began to tear off the clothes on the two girls, revealing firm young flesh. The two girls were certainly quite attractive, and the two men would be liars if they said they didn't get a little bit aroused from handling such beautiful, unresisting bodies. They kept it to the odd breast squeeze though. Once the girls were completely naked, the thin one took a sharpie, and wrote on Carolina's bountiful chest. "THOSE WHO CROSS THE BOSS BEWARE". He tossed the sharpie over to the large one, who wrote on Cindy's slightly pudgy belly, "SORRY ABOUT THIS ONE THOUGH".
The two men changed in the bedroom, placing the blood spattered clothes in a plastic bag to be disposed of later. They walked back down, out into the street, and got in the car. "Job well done, I'd say", the large one said in satisfaction. "Yup", the thin one agreed.