The water in the bath turned a pinkish colour as Hades washed the blood from her skin. Her bloodstained clothes lay in a heap in the corner. None of the others had asked any questions when she stepped into the inn, blood soaked and battered. They'd all been through it themselves several times, as had she. It was just a part of the job after all, killing was second nature to her at this point. She sank lower in the water letting it cover her completely. She let the memories of the night's events settle in her mind, a messy disarray of blood and death. She remembered the sight of her target- not a person, not to her- sleeping peacefully as she drew her blade. She had never given them a chance. She remembered the feel of her knife against his skin, cool metal against his warm throat. One quick slash and all that warmth had drained away. She remembered hearing screaming as she fled. A howling wail of pain and fury. Someone had found the body already. She tried not to think about who- a friend, a sibling, a lover?- as she took her leave. She remembered it all and tried to feel nothing, only the cool indifference that kept all other emotions at bay. If she felt anything it would destroy her. She was satisfied that her skin now felt like her own again, …show more content…
A huge mahogany desk took up most of the space, and- much like the woman herself- it's surface is covered in scratches and deep scars that no one has the courage to ask about. There are three chairs- Morrigan's own, which resembles a small throne, and two signifigantly less comfortable chairs, one of which Hades now sat in. She tapped her foot impatiently on the patterned carpet. Morrigan loved to keep people waiting. Hades thought she did it on purpose and imagined her standing on the other side of the door, waiting until she was acceptably late before entering. The thought brought a small smile to her face. The door swung open then, startling Hades from her