Jeannie Sauvage ascended the staircase up to her apartment, a smile on her face and a rose in her hair. Unlocking the door, the smile turned into a frown as she saw the blade resting against a chair, the red skull on the hilt just below the guard glowering at her.
"You went out without me." The sword hissed as a drop of blood pooled in the eye sockets of the skull.
"Dancing not patrol, I can't show up to tango with a long sword now can I." Jeannie replied as she walked into the kitchen and turned on the radio on the window sill and filled the kettle with water. "Besides I still don't trust you after the stunt you pulled at the airport."
"You are the Guillotine, you must kill or you will be useless." The sword sighed as a bloody tear ran down the length of the blade."
"On other news the trial of Alec Eiffel the so-called Fascist Man Alive is scheduled for tomorrow." The radio announcer stated as Jeannie shot an angry look at the sword. "Eiffel has ties to numerous neo-Nazi groups in Paris and..."
"I told you we should have killed him." The sword remarked snidely as Jeannie turned the radio off. "While compassion is both a boon and a curse, this time it has let a monster survive"
"I know, but look on the brightside." Jeannie hissed through gritted teeth as she walked into the lounge and shucked the flower print black dress she was wearing. "At least we're going out tonight after all."
Dilapidated Warehouse, Montmartre
The man behind the alter placed the swastika shaped candle holder on the table, a hush falling over the crowd of men and women dressed in combat trousers and tank tops.
"The transcendence RAID promised us failed, but superhuman abilities are not yet out of our grasp." The man stated as he gestured for the man in knightly armour to push a still forward, its contents glowing a pale red. "Behold a new version of the traitorous Erskine's super-soldier syndrome, perfected and in Aryan hands like it always should be!"
The crowd cheered and a blonde-haired woman dressed in a traditional German dirndl was pushed to the front, a painful looking acid burn marring an otherwise exemplary figure of Aryan beauty.
"With this we begin the fight back against the immigrants and Muslims threatening the streets! We will restore this country this continent back to perfection!" The preacher yelled as the woman stepped forward and took a swig of the liquid in the still.
"What would their reaction be if I told them their blood tasted all the same?" A voice whispered as the hooded woman perched unseen in the rafters silently unsheathed her sword.
"I don't know, for now we need to stop whatever Oskar Mors and his followers have brewed up." The woman stated as the woman stepped back and the preacher, Mors, held out a hand, silencing the crowd "I can feel the change!" The woman exclaimed just as something red and silver streaked through the air and struck the still, the contents bubbling out onto the concrete floor.
"Looks like Oktoberfest is over." The woman stated as she dropped to the floor, the crowd scattering slightly as she walked towards the still.
"Guillotine!" Mors spat as his followers began to come to their senses. "Kill her and bring me her sword!" He ordered. Holding her hands up, Guillotine closed her eyes as the members of the neo-Nazi cult surrounded her. She only opened them when the choking began, blood pooling on the concrete as her would be attackers fell to their knees as they coughed up blood.
"Wunderknight, bring me the witch’s head!" Mors ordered the armoured figure only for the woman in the dirndl to step forward.
"Don't bother, I have power I will crush her!" She snapped as Guillotine retrieved her sword and sprinted towards the woman, blood splashing over the blade as it scratched along the floor before scything up and slamming guard first into the woman's nose.
"Your ideology, your power is not going to threaten anyone ever again, not while I'm here!" Guillotine announced as she and the Wunderknight got ready to lock blades.
"We will save Europe from the liberal poison your kind has injected into her veins!" Mors snapped as Wunderknight lunged forward, his opponent deflecting the strike as each fighter tried to gauge the skill of the other.
"We could have ended this weeks ago." The Fleur de Mal blade Guillotine wielded stated as its user went for a swipe at the Wunderknight only for him to parry the blow.
"I know, but we don't kill." Guillotine sighed as she was almost caught off by a quick slash by her opponent.
"Then why appose our ideology?" Mors asked as the sound of shifting bones and flesh came from behind Guillotine.
"I was talking to my sword." Guillotine moaned as Wunderknight deflected one of her strikes before backing off his eyes focused on the towering figure standing behind Guillotine.
"Savour your deluded conversation," The woman in the dirndl, her body now built to Amazonian standards hissed as she grabbed Guillotine from behind by the neck and lifting her off the ground, "it'll the last one you ever have!"
"We should leave." Mors told Wunderknight as he grabbed the swastika just as Guillotine was thrown into the wall, the plaster cracking as her super strong opponent grabbed a length of chain off one of the incapacitated figures and wrapped the end round her knuckles.
"You think you fight for what's right!?" The woman hissed as she lashed out with her chain, the metal links sparking across Guillotine's armour as the vigilante got to her feet. "Is it right that for no reason some Muslim terrorist threw acid in my face. I wouldn't be the 'Panzer Machden' if you or the police had the conviction to toss all the immigrants out of our country!"
"You didn’t have to fall in with Jugend-Kruez and become the prettiest girl in the Reich either!" Guillotine snapped as the chain slashed towards her, only for the Fleur de Mal to cut effortlessly through the links. Advancing on her foe, Jeannie thrust her sword into Panzer Machden's chest. With a scream the woman pushed the blood-soaked blade back, knocking Jeannie off balance.
"I chose to keep Europe clean!" Panzer Machden hissed as she punched Jeannie in the chest, the plate mail of her costume buckling from the blow. Wheezing from the onslaught Jeannie stabbed the blade down into the woman's foot, receiving a sharp kick into the alter for her efforts.
"No, you...betrayed...everything it...stands for." Jeannie wheezed as she ripped off the buckled plating as Panzer Machden stepped forward, her foot ripping open.
"Just like a liberal, using words as weapons but having no bite." Panzer Machden stated, her pale skin turning a slight shade of grey before fainting onto the floor. Getting to her feet Jeannie retrieved the Fleur de Mal, its blade bloody before looking to the open back door that Mors and Wunderknight had escaped through.
"Mors will be long gone by now." Jeannie sighed bitterly as she looked at the unconscious body of Panzer Machden. "And I don't suppose she's going to talk any time soon."
"She doesn't have to; her blood speaks volumes about Mors." The Fleur de Mal announced as it absorbed the blood running down its blade. "There is a taste of where the compound was made, somewhere of the river surrounded by concrete and diesel fumes."
"Maybe a bridge, too bad the city has hundreds of them." Jeannie sighed as she walked out of the bunker into the street.
"There is something else, something that smells of sweet chestnut and cream." The Fleur de Mal added as Jeannie went into the alleyway between the bunker and the next building and started climbing the fire escape to the roof.
"Wait that's Mount Blanc pudding, they serve it at Patisserie Angelina on Les Marais." Jeannie gasped as she reached the roof and leapt to the next roof. "There is an underground space there too."
"Then what are we waiting for?" The Fleur de Mal asked.
"There could be more superpowered neo-Nazis there, a little reconnaissance might be required first, and all we need to do is make a few calls and slip into something a little more uncomfortable." Jeannie stated as she sheathed her sword and headed back towards her apartment.
Patisserie Angelina, Rue de Rivoli, Les Marais
"I have to admit this is indeed exquisite." Marc Jobert announced as he narrowly avoided spilling cherry sauce down his blazer.
"I told you." Jeannie purred as she took a sip from her Cappuccino, before eyeing up the Mount Blanc desert sitting on the plate in front of her.
"Kill him, we demand blood." A tiny voice from neat her ear hissed. "At least slit a vein and make this interesting."
"You still have your pen behind you ear." Marc stated as he whipped his face.
"Of course, how silly of me." Jeannie laughed as she removed the fountain pen from behind her ear, the silver casing supporting the same markings as the Fleur de Mal into her clutch bag. "Listen Marc I want to apologise."
"What for?" Marc asked as he looked at the beautiful woman dressed in a black satin mini-dress sitting across the table from him.
"For not being supportive of you in regards to Guillotine." Jeannie sighed as she fidgeted slightly. "I honestly think you're right about her being a threat to the city."
"Are you breaking our no 'Guillotine talk' on our evenings out policy?" Marc asked as he cracked a smile. "I'm shocked Jeannie Sauvage, and of course I accept your apology. In fact, I should be apologising for bringing her up at every moment."
"Hence why we have a no Guillotine policy." Jeannie replied as she took a spoonful of desert. "And I forgive you too." She added before leaning forward slightly.
"What are you doing?" Marc asked, causing Jeannie to settle back into her seat.
"Nothing." Jeannie sighed as she went back to her desert
Pulling the hood of her red coat over her head, Jeannie went down the steps to the locked door under Patisserie Angelina and removed the pen, its ink leaking onto her fingers.
"You embarrassed yourself." The pen squeaked as Jeannie placed the nib into the lock and pulling down, the mundane item slicing through the steel block.
"How many blood signatures did you recognise down here?" Jeannie whispered as she pushed the door open and flicked the pen out, its length extending into a sword.
"Four, but Mors wasn't among them." The Fleur de Mal answered as Jeannie looked round the mostly empty chamber. There was no sign of a fractional distillation column but there was a box labelled 5.56 NATO and another containing small cases of ball bearings.
"Where are they now?" Jeannie asked as she looked into the side room and saw several hangers on the floor and a map of Paris blue tacked to the wall with the Ecole Militate and Champs de Mars circled.
"They left shortly before you and that man parted company." The Fleur de Mal snorted as Jeannie looked at the map before turning for the door.
"They are planning to attack the Champs de Mars, but why? From the looks of the hangers there are six of them." Jeannie gasped as the Fleur de Mal was shrunk back down to a pen.
"And we can track four of them." The Fleur de Mal replied as a single drop of red ink leaked from the nib. "It is obvious what we must do, kill three of them and torture the survivor until they crack."
"No killing, not today!" Jeannie spat as she reached the banks of the Seine and headed south towards the Eiffel Tower and the Champs de Mars.
Champs de Mars, Paris
A number of picnicking tourists and families enjoyed the midday sun that late August had brought. None of them paid the bearded man any attention as he walked into the most crowded section of the field. It was only after he shouted that those closest fealty three seconds of fear. After that the Champs de Mars was rocked by an explosion followed by the sounds of screaming.
"One of our foe's blood has been spent." The Fleur de Mal hissed bitterly as Jeannie raced up the steps towards the Champs de Mars, gunfire and screaming sounding from up ahead.
"Where are the other three?" Jeannie asked as she began to push her way through the crowd.
"Two are at the end of the field engaged with police, the third is running, hidden in the crowd." The Fleur de Mal answered as Jeannie pulled to onside to avoid being trampled, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the potential bomber. "There that one." She murmured as she caught sight of a woman dressed in a burka.
"Agreed." The Fleur de Mal confirmed as Jeannie pursued the would-be bomber past the Eiffel Tower and down towards the Gare de Champs de Mars metro station, the crowd of fleeing civilians barred from further entry as the police locked down the station.
"We need to stop her now." Jeannie whispered as she squeezed through the crowd towards the bomber only to see the crowd part before her as her target remove a detonator.
"Die infidels!" The woman snarled as she pressed the button, her suicide vest priming ready for detonation.
Cursing softly to herself Jeannie flicked the pen forward, the device transforming back into the Fleur de Mal, the bombers eyes focused on the blade.
"Don't do this!" Jeannie yelled as the trapped crowd tried to get as far back as possible. The bombers eyes narrowed as she went to press a second button on the trigger only for pain to radiate through her wrist as her hand clutching it was cut off, followed by steel slipping through her vest.
"Your little facade is over!" Guillotine hissed as she removed the veil and headscarf covering the woman's face to reveal cropped brown hair and pale skin. "You killed multiple people today, would add many more personally to the tally if I or the police hadn't stopped you. If anyone deserves the Guillotine...," Jeannie hissed her eyes pools of red as anger was replaced by blood lust, "...it's you!" She snapped as she placed the Fleur de Mal against the woman's neck ready for a decapitating blow.
"This country is diseased!" The woman sneered. "We will punish those unworthy of life. Now do it, my death will only strengthen our cause."
"You seek death, then live knowing pain for ever more!" Jeannie hissed in a tone far closer to the Fleur de Mal's then her own as she kicked the woman onto her front and brought the blade down between the joints of her knees, the terrorist crying out in pain.
"Now leave!" She hissed at the crowd, the civilians and some of the police streaming out of the station. For those brave officers who had remained the only figure left behind was the terrorist still screaming in pain. Guillotine had gone, lost in the crowd and still free to stalk Paris.
"Our top story tonight remains the terror attack on the Champs de Mars." The radio announcer stated as the sound of flowing water radiated from Jeannie's bathroom. "The current death toll stands at twenty-one people and seventy-nine injured. Reports suggest that the three surviving suspects are in police custody and that the suspected crime lord Guillotine assisted in capturing one of the bombers. Officials are currently not rescinding the arrest warrant on her, and eyewitnesses are encouraged to come forward with any information regarding her identity and whereabouts."
"I almost lost it, I was so angry." Jeannie sobbed as she sat fully clothed in the shower, blood leaking from her pores like sweat, "I maimed that woman, she'll never walk unaided again and I was proud of doing it."
"Cruelty breeds cruelty." The Fleur de Mal propped up next to the toilet announced. "Your opponent’s show no mercy, the fact that you do is..."
"Is what? Foolish, dangerous?! I will not kill!" Jeannie snapped.
"I was going to say noble." The Fleur de Mal answered. "I always steer Guillotine's to be 'noble demons' but I've never had to coax you. Unfortunately, that will never be enough, there will always be a need for blood it is written into my forging and your lines DNA."
"I just don't understand why?" Jeannie asked as she opened the shower curtain. "What was Mors plan?"
"On other news Alec Eiffel the Fascist Man Alive had his sentencing suspended due to ongoing security problems. His hearing was scheduled to be moved to next week, but Mr Eiffel never returned to the Chateau de Meutries and a man hunt for him and two bailiffs he took hostage is ongoing." The radio in the other room droned on.
"It was a set up." Jeannie gasped as she got to her feet and turned the shower off. "Panzer Madchen, the obvious hints at his plot, the bomb attacks, they were all to lead me away from his cronies springing Eiffel!"
"Indeed, a cunning plan that shows Mors knows how Guillotine operates." The Fleur de Mal stated with a hint of bitterness in its voice.
"Maybe, but soon he'll wish he didn't!" Jeannie hissed as her eyes glowed red, the blood lust rising in her once again. "Because I'm going to kill him!"
"You went out without me." The sword hissed as a drop of blood pooled in the eye sockets of the skull.
"Dancing not patrol, I can't show up to tango with a long sword now can I." Jeannie replied as she walked into the kitchen and turned on the radio on the window sill and filled the kettle with water. "Besides I still don't trust you after the stunt you pulled at the airport."
"You are the Guillotine, you must kill or you will be useless." The sword sighed as a bloody tear ran down the length of the blade."
"On other news the trial of Alec Eiffel the so-called Fascist Man Alive is scheduled for tomorrow." The radio announcer stated as Jeannie shot an angry look at the sword. "Eiffel has ties to numerous neo-Nazi groups in Paris and..."
"I told you we should have killed him." The sword remarked snidely as Jeannie turned the radio off. "While compassion is both a boon and a curse, this time it has let a monster survive"
"I know, but look on the brightside." Jeannie hissed through gritted teeth as she walked into the lounge and shucked the flower print black dress she was wearing. "At least we're going out tonight after all."
Dilapidated Warehouse, Montmartre
The man behind the alter placed the swastika shaped candle holder on the table, a hush falling over the crowd of men and women dressed in combat trousers and tank tops.
"The transcendence RAID promised us failed, but superhuman abilities are not yet out of our grasp." The man stated as he gestured for the man in knightly armour to push a still forward, its contents glowing a pale red. "Behold a new version of the traitorous Erskine's super-soldier syndrome, perfected and in Aryan hands like it always should be!"
The crowd cheered and a blonde-haired woman dressed in a traditional German dirndl was pushed to the front, a painful looking acid burn marring an otherwise exemplary figure of Aryan beauty.
"With this we begin the fight back against the immigrants and Muslims threatening the streets! We will restore this country this continent back to perfection!" The preacher yelled as the woman stepped forward and took a swig of the liquid in the still.
"What would their reaction be if I told them their blood tasted all the same?" A voice whispered as the hooded woman perched unseen in the rafters silently unsheathed her sword.
"I don't know, for now we need to stop whatever Oskar Mors and his followers have brewed up." The woman stated as the woman stepped back and the preacher, Mors, held out a hand, silencing the crowd "I can feel the change!" The woman exclaimed just as something red and silver streaked through the air and struck the still, the contents bubbling out onto the concrete floor.
"Looks like Oktoberfest is over." The woman stated as she dropped to the floor, the crowd scattering slightly as she walked towards the still.
"Guillotine!" Mors spat as his followers began to come to their senses. "Kill her and bring me her sword!" He ordered. Holding her hands up, Guillotine closed her eyes as the members of the neo-Nazi cult surrounded her. She only opened them when the choking began, blood pooling on the concrete as her would be attackers fell to their knees as they coughed up blood.
"Wunderknight, bring me the witch’s head!" Mors ordered the armoured figure only for the woman in the dirndl to step forward.
"Don't bother, I have power I will crush her!" She snapped as Guillotine retrieved her sword and sprinted towards the woman, blood splashing over the blade as it scratched along the floor before scything up and slamming guard first into the woman's nose.
"Your ideology, your power is not going to threaten anyone ever again, not while I'm here!" Guillotine announced as she and the Wunderknight got ready to lock blades.
"We will save Europe from the liberal poison your kind has injected into her veins!" Mors snapped as Wunderknight lunged forward, his opponent deflecting the strike as each fighter tried to gauge the skill of the other.
"We could have ended this weeks ago." The Fleur de Mal blade Guillotine wielded stated as its user went for a swipe at the Wunderknight only for him to parry the blow.
"I know, but we don't kill." Guillotine sighed as she was almost caught off by a quick slash by her opponent.
"Then why appose our ideology?" Mors asked as the sound of shifting bones and flesh came from behind Guillotine.
"I was talking to my sword." Guillotine moaned as Wunderknight deflected one of her strikes before backing off his eyes focused on the towering figure standing behind Guillotine.
"Savour your deluded conversation," The woman in the dirndl, her body now built to Amazonian standards hissed as she grabbed Guillotine from behind by the neck and lifting her off the ground, "it'll the last one you ever have!"
"We should leave." Mors told Wunderknight as he grabbed the swastika just as Guillotine was thrown into the wall, the plaster cracking as her super strong opponent grabbed a length of chain off one of the incapacitated figures and wrapped the end round her knuckles.
"You think you fight for what's right!?" The woman hissed as she lashed out with her chain, the metal links sparking across Guillotine's armour as the vigilante got to her feet. "Is it right that for no reason some Muslim terrorist threw acid in my face. I wouldn't be the 'Panzer Machden' if you or the police had the conviction to toss all the immigrants out of our country!"
"You didn’t have to fall in with Jugend-Kruez and become the prettiest girl in the Reich either!" Guillotine snapped as the chain slashed towards her, only for the Fleur de Mal to cut effortlessly through the links. Advancing on her foe, Jeannie thrust her sword into Panzer Machden's chest. With a scream the woman pushed the blood-soaked blade back, knocking Jeannie off balance.
"I chose to keep Europe clean!" Panzer Machden hissed as she punched Jeannie in the chest, the plate mail of her costume buckling from the blow. Wheezing from the onslaught Jeannie stabbed the blade down into the woman's foot, receiving a sharp kick into the alter for her efforts.
"No, you...betrayed...everything it...stands for." Jeannie wheezed as she ripped off the buckled plating as Panzer Machden stepped forward, her foot ripping open.
"Just like a liberal, using words as weapons but having no bite." Panzer Machden stated, her pale skin turning a slight shade of grey before fainting onto the floor. Getting to her feet Jeannie retrieved the Fleur de Mal, its blade bloody before looking to the open back door that Mors and Wunderknight had escaped through.
"Mors will be long gone by now." Jeannie sighed bitterly as she looked at the unconscious body of Panzer Machden. "And I don't suppose she's going to talk any time soon."
"She doesn't have to; her blood speaks volumes about Mors." The Fleur de Mal announced as it absorbed the blood running down its blade. "There is a taste of where the compound was made, somewhere of the river surrounded by concrete and diesel fumes."
"Maybe a bridge, too bad the city has hundreds of them." Jeannie sighed as she walked out of the bunker into the street.
"There is something else, something that smells of sweet chestnut and cream." The Fleur de Mal added as Jeannie went into the alleyway between the bunker and the next building and started climbing the fire escape to the roof.
"Wait that's Mount Blanc pudding, they serve it at Patisserie Angelina on Les Marais." Jeannie gasped as she reached the roof and leapt to the next roof. "There is an underground space there too."
"Then what are we waiting for?" The Fleur de Mal asked.
"There could be more superpowered neo-Nazis there, a little reconnaissance might be required first, and all we need to do is make a few calls and slip into something a little more uncomfortable." Jeannie stated as she sheathed her sword and headed back towards her apartment.
Patisserie Angelina, Rue de Rivoli, Les Marais
"I have to admit this is indeed exquisite." Marc Jobert announced as he narrowly avoided spilling cherry sauce down his blazer.
"I told you." Jeannie purred as she took a sip from her Cappuccino, before eyeing up the Mount Blanc desert sitting on the plate in front of her.
"Kill him, we demand blood." A tiny voice from neat her ear hissed. "At least slit a vein and make this interesting."
"You still have your pen behind you ear." Marc stated as he whipped his face.
"Of course, how silly of me." Jeannie laughed as she removed the fountain pen from behind her ear, the silver casing supporting the same markings as the Fleur de Mal into her clutch bag. "Listen Marc I want to apologise."
"What for?" Marc asked as he looked at the beautiful woman dressed in a black satin mini-dress sitting across the table from him.
"For not being supportive of you in regards to Guillotine." Jeannie sighed as she fidgeted slightly. "I honestly think you're right about her being a threat to the city."
"Are you breaking our no 'Guillotine talk' on our evenings out policy?" Marc asked as he cracked a smile. "I'm shocked Jeannie Sauvage, and of course I accept your apology. In fact, I should be apologising for bringing her up at every moment."
"Hence why we have a no Guillotine policy." Jeannie replied as she took a spoonful of desert. "And I forgive you too." She added before leaning forward slightly.
"What are you doing?" Marc asked, causing Jeannie to settle back into her seat.
"Nothing." Jeannie sighed as she went back to her desert
Pulling the hood of her red coat over her head, Jeannie went down the steps to the locked door under Patisserie Angelina and removed the pen, its ink leaking onto her fingers.
"You embarrassed yourself." The pen squeaked as Jeannie placed the nib into the lock and pulling down, the mundane item slicing through the steel block.
"How many blood signatures did you recognise down here?" Jeannie whispered as she pushed the door open and flicked the pen out, its length extending into a sword.
"Four, but Mors wasn't among them." The Fleur de Mal answered as Jeannie looked round the mostly empty chamber. There was no sign of a fractional distillation column but there was a box labelled 5.56 NATO and another containing small cases of ball bearings.
"Where are they now?" Jeannie asked as she looked into the side room and saw several hangers on the floor and a map of Paris blue tacked to the wall with the Ecole Militate and Champs de Mars circled.
"They left shortly before you and that man parted company." The Fleur de Mal snorted as Jeannie looked at the map before turning for the door.
"They are planning to attack the Champs de Mars, but why? From the looks of the hangers there are six of them." Jeannie gasped as the Fleur de Mal was shrunk back down to a pen.
"And we can track four of them." The Fleur de Mal replied as a single drop of red ink leaked from the nib. "It is obvious what we must do, kill three of them and torture the survivor until they crack."
"No killing, not today!" Jeannie spat as she reached the banks of the Seine and headed south towards the Eiffel Tower and the Champs de Mars.
Champs de Mars, Paris
A number of picnicking tourists and families enjoyed the midday sun that late August had brought. None of them paid the bearded man any attention as he walked into the most crowded section of the field. It was only after he shouted that those closest fealty three seconds of fear. After that the Champs de Mars was rocked by an explosion followed by the sounds of screaming.
"One of our foe's blood has been spent." The Fleur de Mal hissed bitterly as Jeannie raced up the steps towards the Champs de Mars, gunfire and screaming sounding from up ahead.
"Where are the other three?" Jeannie asked as she began to push her way through the crowd.
"Two are at the end of the field engaged with police, the third is running, hidden in the crowd." The Fleur de Mal answered as Jeannie pulled to onside to avoid being trampled, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the potential bomber. "There that one." She murmured as she caught sight of a woman dressed in a burka.
"Agreed." The Fleur de Mal confirmed as Jeannie pursued the would-be bomber past the Eiffel Tower and down towards the Gare de Champs de Mars metro station, the crowd of fleeing civilians barred from further entry as the police locked down the station.
"We need to stop her now." Jeannie whispered as she squeezed through the crowd towards the bomber only to see the crowd part before her as her target remove a detonator.
"Die infidels!" The woman snarled as she pressed the button, her suicide vest priming ready for detonation.
Cursing softly to herself Jeannie flicked the pen forward, the device transforming back into the Fleur de Mal, the bombers eyes focused on the blade.
"Don't do this!" Jeannie yelled as the trapped crowd tried to get as far back as possible. The bombers eyes narrowed as she went to press a second button on the trigger only for pain to radiate through her wrist as her hand clutching it was cut off, followed by steel slipping through her vest.
"Your little facade is over!" Guillotine hissed as she removed the veil and headscarf covering the woman's face to reveal cropped brown hair and pale skin. "You killed multiple people today, would add many more personally to the tally if I or the police hadn't stopped you. If anyone deserves the Guillotine...," Jeannie hissed her eyes pools of red as anger was replaced by blood lust, "...it's you!" She snapped as she placed the Fleur de Mal against the woman's neck ready for a decapitating blow.
"This country is diseased!" The woman sneered. "We will punish those unworthy of life. Now do it, my death will only strengthen our cause."
"You seek death, then live knowing pain for ever more!" Jeannie hissed in a tone far closer to the Fleur de Mal's then her own as she kicked the woman onto her front and brought the blade down between the joints of her knees, the terrorist crying out in pain.
"Now leave!" She hissed at the crowd, the civilians and some of the police streaming out of the station. For those brave officers who had remained the only figure left behind was the terrorist still screaming in pain. Guillotine had gone, lost in the crowd and still free to stalk Paris.
"Our top story tonight remains the terror attack on the Champs de Mars." The radio announcer stated as the sound of flowing water radiated from Jeannie's bathroom. "The current death toll stands at twenty-one people and seventy-nine injured. Reports suggest that the three surviving suspects are in police custody and that the suspected crime lord Guillotine assisted in capturing one of the bombers. Officials are currently not rescinding the arrest warrant on her, and eyewitnesses are encouraged to come forward with any information regarding her identity and whereabouts."
"I almost lost it, I was so angry." Jeannie sobbed as she sat fully clothed in the shower, blood leaking from her pores like sweat, "I maimed that woman, she'll never walk unaided again and I was proud of doing it."
"Cruelty breeds cruelty." The Fleur de Mal propped up next to the toilet announced. "Your opponent’s show no mercy, the fact that you do is..."
"Is what? Foolish, dangerous?! I will not kill!" Jeannie snapped.
"I was going to say noble." The Fleur de Mal answered. "I always steer Guillotine's to be 'noble demons' but I've never had to coax you. Unfortunately, that will never be enough, there will always be a need for blood it is written into my forging and your lines DNA."
"I just don't understand why?" Jeannie asked as she opened the shower curtain. "What was Mors plan?"
"On other news Alec Eiffel the Fascist Man Alive had his sentencing suspended due to ongoing security problems. His hearing was scheduled to be moved to next week, but Mr Eiffel never returned to the Chateau de Meutries and a man hunt for him and two bailiffs he took hostage is ongoing." The radio in the other room droned on.
"It was a set up." Jeannie gasped as she got to her feet and turned the shower off. "Panzer Madchen, the obvious hints at his plot, the bomb attacks, they were all to lead me away from his cronies springing Eiffel!"
"Indeed, a cunning plan that shows Mors knows how Guillotine operates." The Fleur de Mal stated with a hint of bitterness in its voice.
"Maybe, but soon he'll wish he didn't!" Jeannie hissed as her eyes glowed red, the blood lust rising in her once again. "Because I'm going to kill him!"