"Know better?"

Gwen had her first kiss when she was thirteen...and from what she could remember, she hadn't enjoyed it, it had been wet, from her own tears and the boys slimy saliva, practically threatening to drown her in his spit as he'd clumsily pressed his lips to hers and made her choke in shock. She couldn't remember why she'd been crying, big fat tears rolling down her dirty cheeks as she sobbed, and she couldn't remember why her fellow Barell rat had kissed her...but what she did remember was her pale hand that had clenched into a tight fist by her side that had forced his throat to close up and suffocate him in her vengeful rage.

Her father had always told her that if a boy laid his hands upon her mortal corpse without her permission, then she had his blessing to simply cut them off...and in her young, ruined mind that had been twisted by temptation and cruelty from a world that had left her to die like her family before her, destined to become nothing but a skeleton rotting away in the reapers barge or somewhere far worse...she didn't see why simply killing him instead was so different.

But when Jesper had pressed his lips to hers, his hands warm and gentle against the harsh panes of her face, bringing her closer, holding her together so tightly she was afraid she'd fall apart the moment they separated...she never thought something so impractical could feel like this, never thought she'd crave it, crave him as their lips moved against each other, starting as a mere gentle caress like a butterflies kiss, to something stronger as she desperately clutched his bright shirt in her trembling hands, teeth mashing together and her heart pounding, wanting to pull him closer, wanting push him away, just wanting and wanting filling her up like the the ever moving sands of time as they collided in a lovers embrace.

And she'd never fully realised what it meant to hurt, to truly hurt without something or someone being torn from her too soon, until she realized she wanted him, wanted him completely and to such a great extent that she had no other choice but to convince herself that she didn't. Because if she allowed him to get closer, if she allowed herself to fall...then her survival had all been for naught, because she'd be his, completely and terribly his instead of belonging to her title of Stranger...and with his mouth still slanted against hers, she didn't see how that could possibly be a bad thing as he finally separated from her to allow herself a moment to gasp for air.

For a moment, she could see clearly, could think clearly too, and she wanted to tell him...saints, she wanted to tell him everything, anything that would make him keep kissing her like that, but she'd barely got a word in edge wise as he began trailing his lips down her cheek, skimming across her jaw and then down, down, down to her neck, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her throat, could feel his smile, his teeth, and realised just how intimate this all was, having to trust that he wouldn't bite her, wouldn't tear her neck apart like a feral animal as her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her head back to grant him futher access with a quiet moan.

Keep touching me, she wanted to beg, keep kissing me, she wanted to plead. Just don't leave me in the abyss of life without you.

But they were cruelly interrupted from their...embrace by the sound of a bottle shattering and smashing to pieces onto the uneven cobblestones of the ground below, and the two quickly separated with Jesper's ring-clad hand instantly grabbing onto his revolver and twirling it in his talented grip to point towards the culprit, while Gwen's trembling fingers twisted in a familiar pattern in preparation as the wind began to howl around them...only for the both of them to quickly drop their battle stances with as a startled cat hurried back into the alleyway with a shrieking yowl at its uninvited guests.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, running a hand through her messy hair that was sticking up in all directions like she'd been electrocuted in an effort to look somewhat refined and put together, like she hadn't just been kissed within an inch of her life to the point she was debating having sex in a bloody alleyway, trauma and dirt be damned, pulling herself away from the wall and taking a good couple of steps back away from her sharpshooter, making sure they were completely separated lest she fall back into temptation once more. "That was, uh...that was nice."

Jesper finally looked over towards her, and saints above she wanted him to look at her like that for the rest of her life, like she was something to be awed at, something as beautiful as a piece of art, like she was the moon to his ever burning sun. Like he could see her completely, see right through her to the ruined pit she called a soul, without armour, without her defences and without her hiding behind the name of Stranger.

"Nice? Love, that was fantastic." He laughed, grinning brightly as he made his way over towards her and she had to force herself to stay still, even when his hands reached out to be placed against the small of her wait, fingers tapping rhythmically against her skin to the point it tickled...she forced herself not to lose herself in him, in his adoration, in her lies of romance that all of this was. It was fake, everything about this, about them was simply fake, a trick, and she had to remember that...but why did she feel like it was too late? Why did she feel like she'd already nose-dived into the deep end of her own feelings for the sharpshooter who made her feel more like herself than she ever had.

However, just as Gwen opened her mouth to say something, to say anything, the sound of something like a window being opened assaulted her ears, and just as she was about to look up to see just what the noise was, she was suddenly shoved to the side, tripping over her own to feet as she was forced to stagger away, and when she looked up and over to Jesper to ask just what in the hell he thought he was doing...she found herself freezing as she took in his, quite frankly, horrible state with wide, unblinking eyes filled with horror and disgust as she realized just what had happened.

The sharpshooter was dripping wet, soaked to the bone actually, clothes stained brown as he grumbled and cursed up at the culprit who'd obviously lived above the alleyway as the man shouted back just as viciously, the weathered meaty hands holding a now empty bucket that he'd thrown out of the window...probably to get some form of revenge at their improv shooting session...and Jesper had pushed her out of the way so she didn't get dirty, pushed her away to protect her from her own trauma, and eventually, the man went back inside his home, leaving the couple still standing there, one still enraged while the other was in absolute awe.

"Why did you do that?"

"Couldn't have that pretty dress of yours getting ruined now, could we?" He chuckled as if it was no big deal, but it was, she knew it was, he knew it was...but for her own peace of mind he kept himself quiet, just simply talking his hat off to shake the dirty liquid which he was hoping was just water out of his hair, grimacing just slightly as he took in the state of his once colourful clothes that looked somewhat disgusting and dark now, like he was trying to impersonate a certain Brekker boy...all he needed now was the brooding stare and that dangerous cane he thought to himself amused, unknowing of the turmoil in Gwen's mind as she stared at him.

"Jesper..." She whispered breathlessly, wanting to sob, to scream, to cry as something untouched and warm blossomed inside of her, filling her up until she felt whole again. She repeated his name once more, and when he turned to look at her, still wringing his hat from the disgusting dirty water with his grey eyes filled with adoration...and she wanted to tell him everything once more.

"Yes, love?"

I'm not who you think I am, I'm a monster, I'm the myth that haunts Ketterdam, the killer, the Stranger...this was all a lie, everything, nothing, my feelings for you are real, I want yours to be real too, but I'm going to kill your boss, your friend because I've been offered enough kruge to do so, I'm going to betray you, I'm going to break your heart...I'm going to break mine. She wanted to tell him, she wanted to scream as he looked at her, growing more and more concerned by the minute as she simply stood there and stared at him with her whole body trembling...before she blinked and smiled a smile that was nothing short of devastating.

"Nothing, nothing...just, just thankyou." Gwen said instead as she strolled over to him, tears brimming in her eyes that she desperately tried to conceal as she wiped his cheek to press a delicate kiss against the skin there, her lips tingling and nausea rocked her stomach, but she found his beaming smile made it worth it. I'm going to miss you when you hate me, she thought mournfully, because even if he didn't know it was her who'd laid the killing blow, he'd still never see her again, she'd still be forced to abandon him so she could continue to survive and thrive without the clawing hand of humanity that pulled at her throat, begging to be seen, to be heard, to be felt.

And hours later, when she'd finally arrived home, finally finding herself separated from his all consuming company did she finally feel like she could breath again, allowing the tears she'd kept as bay to slide down her cheeks as she silently cried in her empty house that seemed that much colder, lonelier, darker now that she didn't have Jesper by her side, like he was a beacon of light in the black abyss of her life.

But she couldn't allow herself to feel for long, composing herself slowly as she clenched her jaw tightly and pushed herself away from her door, trembling legs going steady as she walked with purpose up her stairs, into her bedroom where she pulled out her salvation, her destruction, her greatest grief and most treasured power. There were whispers on the street once more, quiet, hardly louder than a footstep in roaring winds...but she'd heard them all the same, of course she did, as she opened the box to her past, present and future with a gulp.

And that was where the face of the Stranger grinned back at her.

Her fingers trailed over the familar mask, following the paths of dips and curves of the mocking face of something terrifying, wrong, inhumane. A grinning demon, a monster that looked feral, vicious with its sharp smile and lifeless eyes that curled around the bottom of the mask hauntingly, as if it were laughing at the misfortunes that had befallen her, as if it was laughing at the death that followed her with the bodies of her victims that continued to simply rise and rise and rise with every passing moment, an aftermath of something lethal, an echo of inflicted evil...a representative of all of her sins.

She remembered when she'd found the creepy thing that would become her legacy, remembered the fear in her bones as she limped on the outskirts of a market place, the way her skinny legs had trembled and finally gave in on that stormy night, forcing her to sprawl down face-first in the muddy ground of the Barell soaked with blood and other fluids...but far too exhausted to panic, to squirm, to cry or to be sick at the feeling of dirt touching her skin and seeping into her pores like a disease.

Pain, aching and agonising ripping through her too-small body, bloodied lips breathlessly calling for help as she tried to move, to get up, to live...but they all just walked past her like they hadn't even seen her, and the ones who stopped, just glancing at her for a moment, only sneered and shook their head, like she was nothing, like she was already dead. But she wasn't, she wasn't, Gwen was still alive, and all she really wanted was to go home again as she began to crawl, desperately crawling across the ground as bile slipped out of the corner of her mouth, her throat blistering at the awful wrenching that accompanied her terrified sobs.

And then her hands had touched something, something buried in the dirt, something hard, something as forgotten about as she was, and there had been a rather strange feeling inside of her, like a whisper, like a promise that told her, no, that ordered her to pull it out, and when she did, using the last of her strength, it was to find a mask...a monstrous mask that grinned at her dangerously...and it was then that an idea began to form, an idea that would become simultaneously her ruin and salvation as she lay amongst the dirt and schemed.

She couldn't become better than them, couldn't be better than the Barell rats, the rich merchants who made their fortunes on the blood of the poor, the gangs who simply took and took and took from those around them until you were left naked upon the streets drenched in bruises or becoming a rotting corpse, all different classes, all different people from different backgrounds, who only shared a few things, who didn't care about anything other than themselves, who paved the road through hollow words and bitter morality hidden behind golden and crooked teeth...so, if she couldn't be better than them...then she would just have to become something so much worse.

The stars had never whispered her name, the world had never looked at her like she was something worth looking at, just a dirty rat like the rest of the children left to be kicked and spat at and starve in the streets around them. And so she'd grab her own fate with devastating hands, she'd twist and mold it, leaving smudges on her once clean soul for her mistakes and sins...there was a saying that went around that there were two kinds of monsters in the world, ones created with cruelty and ruined by malice...and ones that were simply born with hatred hidden in their veins waiting for a moment to strike.

And Gwen had always wondered, still wondered really, which one she was, which one she had come to be, a monster that was created, or a monster that was born. Could she of been both? Could she of been neither?

But in the end it didn't matter...either way she was going to bring the world to its knees, head bowed and fists bleeding...and she'd start with Ketterdam first. And whatever innocence, whatever light that was once inside her dimmed that day, she'd swallowed it whole with lips that had been stitched shut so no one could ever hear her screams. Because she'd died that day, or at least a part of her did, it had to for her to survive...but the problem was that she didn't get to die and be reborn the exact same, she came back of course, but she came back wrong, she came back hungry and as cold as the corpses that haunted her mind, and that was the price she had to pay to live.

Because when Gwen Rietveld closed her eyes...the Stranger opened them.
________________________________________________

Eddard moved around his room anxiously, footsteps echoing around the large space as the large grandfather clock continued to tick somewhere just above his head, each sound of the contraption sending his heart plummeting down to his stomach as he tried to keep his nerve, his resolve, able to hear the new guards he'd payed a handsome price for as they shifted their weight against the floorboards outside. The Stranger may of been a myth, a legend, may of even been death in disguise...but he was sure that she'd bleed just like the rest of them, and she couldn't kill all of his men, he was sure of it...it's why he'd bought more than a hundred.

But it wasn't for the myth that those guards were for, no...they were for the disgusting criminals of the Barel that would be coming for his precious shipment, he knew they would be, and he knew Brekker and his special bunch of misfits would be the first to come through the doors, or wherever they were able to do so. However, he couldn't allow it to happen, not with the diamond necklace arriving so soon, not when it could make or break him in his expensive circle of merchants that were constantly trying to turn their nose up at him...if he managed to keep it, keep his own property, then no one would be able to say anything to him again.

The wind howled loudly outside, blowing hard against the stained glass panes of his window like it was trying to claw it's way in, ominous and almost frightening alongside the storming clouds that reigned above them, pouring rains and rumbling thunder and dangerous flashes of blinding light coming from the sky that seemed enraged on what was once a quiet night, and that only added to his fear, to be completely and utterly under the mercy of mother nature with no chance of trying to control it.

He continued to pace, muttering under his breath as a strange sense of deja-vu washed over him, feeling his sweat as it dribbled down his forehead, his palms slick with perspiration as they shook and trembled, his heart pounding loudly until it was all he could hear, getting louder and louder with ever breath that escaped his dry lips that were cracked a bleeding through the air that felt tight around them. It was a necessary evil, he tried to remind himself as he circled around his bed, she was taking too much time to kill him...time he no longer had, and so he was well within his right to call for some men to whisper her name...and could only pray that it would be the last.

The window finally bowed under the pressure if the wind and snapped open directly in his line of sight as he startled, staring towards it with rising anticipation and terrible terror that twisted at his insides like a sharp blade buried in his guts, having no choice but to wait for a sign of the Stranger once more, waiting to see their mask, hear their rough drawl or large boots that tapped against the marble of his home...but there was nothing, and as the minutes continued to tick on by, he felt his shoulders release some of their winded tension and he took a sharp breath of relief as his legs almost gave way beneath him.

"You whispered for me."

Her voice came from behind, that unfortunately familar cold and uncouth tone that struck mortal ears like nails upon chalk, and when he spun around it was to see her sitting upon his bed, her legs spread and confident, like she owned the bed, his room, his home, Ketterdam or simply the world as a whole, her terrifying mask grinning at him through the shadows around her, and those dead and cruel unfeeling eyes of liquid ice watching him like predator does a prey...and when he finally managed to speak, he couldn't even pretend to hide the way his voice seemed to shake. "Yes, yes I did...why isn't Brekker dead yet. You promised me-"

"That'd he'd die and he will. However, you didn't exactly put a time limit on such endeavours...if I had known I was on a deadline, I'm sure I could of hurried it along." She said almost boredly, like they were doing something as idle and as simple as talking about some gossip instead of the assassination of a criminal named Dirtyhands who'd wreaked almost as much havoc as she had, not even moving, hardly even breathing as Eddard trembled in front of her like a shitting dog, sinfully at ease as she just watched him sweat like an insect under her boot just awaiting to be crushed.

"I need him dead-"

"Yes. I am aware of that, and yet you're the one who told me you wanted it to hurt." The stranger interrupted him once more, lips twitching behind her ever present mask as his face flushed in rage or embarrassment, she'd never been that good at telling which as she tilted her head to the side mechanically, like she was some kind of doll made human, like she was wrong and in the wrong kind of body and struggling to make do with the strange limbs of being human when the myths and legends pitted her as anything but...and the longer the merchant watched her, the more he was sure that such superstitions were true.

"Things are different now, plans have changed...I need him dead and quickly." Because if he isn't buried six feet under or floating atop the reapers barge, he'll bring my empire into complete and utter ruin with no sign of salvation, he thought to himself desperately, not wanting to tell the...girl? Monster? Creature of the night his true reasoning for his change of mind, just needing her to know that Brekker needed to be gone...but it was in his effort to get her to see his hurried desire...did he forget just who he was dealing with as he spat the words our rudely, like she was simply another one of his men and not the legend that haunted Ketterdam.

"Careful now, Eddard...if you want to keep that vile thing you call your tongue, I'd keep it firmly behind your teeth."

The air grew tight as she spoke quietly, dangerously as she stood up and circled him ever so slowly as the oxygen he tried to breath scratched inside his throat like it was clawing at the skin as he wheezed, attempting to clear it by coughing into his palm...only to have his spit catch like there was something there stopping him from completing such an action, his shaking hand quickly reaching up to unbottom his collar in a sudden desperation as fear gripped his mortal corpse, and yet the moment he freed himself from his clothings grip, he could breath again...like he'd never had trouble in the first place as confusion wreaked havoc in his mind...and left rage in its wake.

"What do you want? More fucking kruge to kill him? Name your price, monster! But I need him gone."

She laughed loudly as a large flash of lightning and rumbling thunder danced across the sky, so bright and booming that he knew that it only just managed to miss crashing into his home as he jumped, but the Stranger didn't even seem shocked in the slightest at the power of nature...and that's because she knew better than anyone how to tame it and avenge it all in the same breath as she blinked at him slowly with her voice filled with mocking hurt. "Oh, I'm the monster, am I?...Then perhaps you should speak to me more softly then, after all monsters are dangerous things...and just now, merchants seem to be dropping like flies."

"If I didn't know any better Stranger, I'd say you were making a threat." Eddard tried to speak bravely, but the words came out meek, like they were forced out of his mouth through a trembling exhale, and he wanted to wince, wanted to stand straighter, wanted to do something instead of just stand there like an imposter in his own room, no longer able to hear the guards that had hovered protectively outside of his bedroom...but realizing just what had happened to them as he noticed the crimson red of blood as it began to leak out from underneath the gap of the door and seeping into floorboards below them.

"And do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Know better." She finally stopped her pacing to look at him for a long, drawn out, terrifying moment, looking nothing short of the monster parents told their children about at night...and then, Eddard blinked...and she was gone on e more, back into the darkness that had birthed her, and back to the haunted shrouds of Ketterdan that she possessed, harassed and tortured with her devastating need for fear and death. The Stranger had a job to do, even if it was from a pathetic lump of a man with the moral backbone of a breadsticks...but in the end, she had no intentions of leaving the job unfinished until Brekkers blood stained the streets alongside the countless others before him.

Playtime was over.