Ariadne Sarkissian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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nextgenerationmarvel2014-11-21 11:47 pm
hisstress) wrote in nextgenerationmarvel2014-11-21 11:47 pm
Entry tags:
Something Wicked This Way Slithers
Hope Hardwicke arrived home to her apartment building early Wednesday morning. She’d just pulled a double shift at the hospital and was exhausted. The flu was going around, and though Hope felt less than up to snuff herself, her sister Grace was also at home with the flu. She hadn’t had a choice but to go to work. Her apartment was eerily quiet, she noted, as she walked down the corridor of her building after having climbed six flights of stairs. The elevator had long ago stopped working, and no one had been able to find someone who could fix it.
There wasn’t a single peep of sound coming from the Murphy apartment, and they were generally arguing no matter what time of day it was. The single Italian man who lived next to them – Hope had never caught his name, being too disgusted by him – generally entertained a different female guest every few hours, but his apartment was quiet as well. She raised an eyebrow. Had there been an alien attack that had emptied out this block? No, that wasn’t likely. The hospital had been busy, but not that busy.
Frowning lightly, Hope struggled with the door to her apartment – 6F – and finally managed to push it in. The door had given her issues ever since she had moved in, but the rent had been relatively reasonable, and the apartment was only eight blocks from work. All in all, after her divorce, it hadn’t been the worst choice she could have made. She flicked the light switch on, placed her knock-off Louis Vuitton bucket bag on the slim table she kept near the door of her apartment, and nudged the door behind her closed with her hip.
“Grace?” Hope called out. “Sweetie, I’m home.” She hoped she wasn’t in a fever coma or something. “Grace?” Even her apartment was eerily quiet. That was odd. Grace, even at her worst, was usually watching a documentary about World War II or something boring and historical. Hope quirked up an eyebrow and reached into her bag, pulling out a small canister of pepper spray. Sure, her door had been locked as usual, and one would have to be a fool to try and break that door down, difficult as it was, but something here just didn’t feel right.
She advanced into the second bedroom of the apartment – it was small, but Grace had insisted on taking it when she had moved in, though Hope had offered her elder sister the bigger room. She froze. The room smelled of…death.
Eyes wide, heart beating rapidly, Hope flicked on the light switch in Grace’s, to find her sister lying in bed, eyes wide open, a glass on the lying next to her, its contents long since evaporated. Standing over her was a lithe woman dressed in green. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two, at most. She was dressed in a green catsuit with cut-outs around her shoulders and, on the circular buckle of her belt was the image of a skull with – was that six tentacles underneath it? Snakes? Hope didn’t have a chance to find out. She only had a second to notice all of that before her world went black.
Ariadne Sarkissian stood over the dead body of Hope Hardwicke, glad she’d been able to strike before the other woman had been able to make a sound. Sure, all of the residents in the building were dead because Ariadne had poisoned the building’s water supply, but she’d been counting on this woman taking her own self out. Ariadne nudged her with the toe of her black leather boot and shrugged. No harm done to her.
She turned back to the woman in the bed and allowed herself the briefest of smiles. Grace had briefly called herself Madame Hydra many years ago. Though she’d disappeared, HYDRA had kept track of her and had known that she’d recently moved to New York. Given that Ariadne herself was moving here to look after some of HYDRA’s own interests, she also figured she’d look after some of her own. That meant eliminating some old competition in the least obvious way possible. Poisoned water supplies were always a good bet.
Now that that was done, Ariadne was free to start with her own plans for HYDRA and New York City. If she could do it without alerting either SHIELD or her father, all the better.
With a smile, Ariadne melded into the shadows and quietly slithered out of the apartment building. It would be another few hours before anyone discovered what had happened to the people in the building, and Ariadne still had much work to do.
There wasn’t a single peep of sound coming from the Murphy apartment, and they were generally arguing no matter what time of day it was. The single Italian man who lived next to them – Hope had never caught his name, being too disgusted by him – generally entertained a different female guest every few hours, but his apartment was quiet as well. She raised an eyebrow. Had there been an alien attack that had emptied out this block? No, that wasn’t likely. The hospital had been busy, but not that busy.
Frowning lightly, Hope struggled with the door to her apartment – 6F – and finally managed to push it in. The door had given her issues ever since she had moved in, but the rent had been relatively reasonable, and the apartment was only eight blocks from work. All in all, after her divorce, it hadn’t been the worst choice she could have made. She flicked the light switch on, placed her knock-off Louis Vuitton bucket bag on the slim table she kept near the door of her apartment, and nudged the door behind her closed with her hip.
“Grace?” Hope called out. “Sweetie, I’m home.” She hoped she wasn’t in a fever coma or something. “Grace?” Even her apartment was eerily quiet. That was odd. Grace, even at her worst, was usually watching a documentary about World War II or something boring and historical. Hope quirked up an eyebrow and reached into her bag, pulling out a small canister of pepper spray. Sure, her door had been locked as usual, and one would have to be a fool to try and break that door down, difficult as it was, but something here just didn’t feel right.
She advanced into the second bedroom of the apartment – it was small, but Grace had insisted on taking it when she had moved in, though Hope had offered her elder sister the bigger room. She froze. The room smelled of…death.
Eyes wide, heart beating rapidly, Hope flicked on the light switch in Grace’s, to find her sister lying in bed, eyes wide open, a glass on the lying next to her, its contents long since evaporated. Standing over her was a lithe woman dressed in green. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two, at most. She was dressed in a green catsuit with cut-outs around her shoulders and, on the circular buckle of her belt was the image of a skull with – was that six tentacles underneath it? Snakes? Hope didn’t have a chance to find out. She only had a second to notice all of that before her world went black.
Ariadne Sarkissian stood over the dead body of Hope Hardwicke, glad she’d been able to strike before the other woman had been able to make a sound. Sure, all of the residents in the building were dead because Ariadne had poisoned the building’s water supply, but she’d been counting on this woman taking her own self out. Ariadne nudged her with the toe of her black leather boot and shrugged. No harm done to her.
She turned back to the woman in the bed and allowed herself the briefest of smiles. Grace had briefly called herself Madame Hydra many years ago. Though she’d disappeared, HYDRA had kept track of her and had known that she’d recently moved to New York. Given that Ariadne herself was moving here to look after some of HYDRA’s own interests, she also figured she’d look after some of her own. That meant eliminating some old competition in the least obvious way possible. Poisoned water supplies were always a good bet.
Now that that was done, Ariadne was free to start with her own plans for HYDRA and New York City. If she could do it without alerting either SHIELD or her father, all the better.
With a smile, Ariadne melded into the shadows and quietly slithered out of the apartment building. It would be another few hours before anyone discovered what had happened to the people in the building, and Ariadne still had much work to do.