Her eyes flickered all over the place as she palmed the barrel of her weapon. Who knew when her day would end up at the morgue, settled on the cold slab as someone tried to identify her corpse. There was a bigger chance the Red Sox won for the next five years than for anyone to come into the coroner's office to name the Jane Doe who ended up with bullet holes in her body. Oh well, such was life or was it, cest la vie? Even now she could barely keep up the cover for tonight but then again every other week a new identity was given to her. Her life was not her own and once, she wished this life could end by her own hands. Even if she tried to off herself, those bastards would bring her back. No, not those bastards. Just one.
One who she hated beyond the hatred most humans felt in their small existence. He who was shot out of Heaven for his insubordination and his ideals. Oh, how she wished to have seen his behind kicked by the Being out of the pearly gates and into this world. However, life was never fair and while her life was ruled as his right hand, life was hell for her. No pun intended of course. "Wonder if he is going to show up just as I am shot in leg," she muttered beneath her breath. Cocking the barrel of her gun, she glanced up towards the ceiling. Even now she prayed to someone who really could care less what happened to her but it always helped to ask the Big Man Upstairs for guidance. At the moment, he could merely be watching all of this trouble happening on Earth with a smile on his lips and a hand in a bag of popcorn. Just as well. Giving herself the sign of the cross, amusing for she was never a saint, this sinner turned from the corner and went in guns ablazing to take the needed souls to hell. He may have control of her soul but everything else belonged to her and son he would realize he could not collect this beings with her. After tonight, he could take this job and shove it right up his unholy behind.
[You can see where it goes...]