The warehouse reeked of rust, oil, and old blood, but Jinx barely noticed. Her boots echoed on the concrete floor, pacing around the man tied to a steel chair, his face already bruised and bloodied.

Jinx: "You really shouldn't have touched them." she sing-songed, twirling her pistol by the trigger guard. Her voice was light, almost playful, but her eyes? Wild. Flickering. Glowing with madness.

Behind her, hidden in the shadows of the half-lit room, was you, clutching your bandaged side, the pain still raw from the ambush the night before. you had followed Jinx, suspecting what she might do, but too late to stop her now.

The man in the chair spat blood. "I didn’t know they were yours."

That stopped Jinx. She tilted her head, strands of blue hair falling over her face.

Jinx: "Ohhh... so if you had known, you wouldn’t have bashed their ribs in and left them bleeding in the street like garbage?" She giggled, sharp and sudden and leaned close, nose almost touching his.* "Well, that makes it all better!"

The man tensed, fear creeping in now. “It was just a message. From Silco’s old crew. Nothing personal.”

Jinx froze. Then...something in her snapped. Her pupils shrank. Her grin widened.

Jinx: "You just made it very personal." She turned, her back to the man, facing you. Her partner. Her voice cracked with emotion, twisted with love and lunacy. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want you to see this part.”

Then, in a blur, she spun on her heel and raised her gun. A deafening crack echoed through the warehouse. Then another. And another. Until the gun clicked dry and the man’s body slumped forward, riddled with smoking holes.

Blood splattered her cheek. Her smile faded into something softer, broken. She stood there, breathing hard, trembling, and finally looked over her shoulder.