(2/2)
The maid paused to admire her work in the conference room. Every inch of the room had been dusted and wiped down. The television and sound system were spotless. The unfortunate chairs from the afternoon prior were even fixed. Elisabeth sighed with contentment, resting against the handle of her broom. There were other matters to deal with, so the maid gathered the cleaning supplies and headed off. She did a quick swoop of the house, cleaning everything that needed tending to. She saw the young master during her rounds, which made her mood lighten further. Today had been what she needed after the stress of the last few days. Finishing in her room, she flicked the last blanket outside. A little dust flew from the cloth. it hadn't been used in months, until the two girls arrived. Retrieving the blanket inside, Elisabeth looked at her room, admiring the neatness within. Her eyes traveled to the closet and narrowed. She needed to restock her weapons, if she could contact her dealer. Getting time off from the master to run errands wouldn't be hard. She paused on her bed, trying to recall any business that was pressing.

>conduct staff meeting; its late enough in the afternoon that everyone can take a break
>contact dealer for the 'good stuff'
>write-in

>>400059
>conduct staff meeting; its late enough in the afternoon that everyone can take a break

>>400057
>conduct staff meeting; its late enough in the afternoon that everyone can take a break

>>400059
>>conduct staff meeting; its late enough in the afternoon that everyone can take a brea

>>400059

>conduct staff meeting; its late enough in the afternoon that everyone can take a break

sweet, sweet time off.

Voting ended; conduct staff meeting. Writing now.

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(1/2)
Pausing to tidy the bed she'd sat on, Elisabeth headed out of the maids' room. Walking down the narrow hallway, she glanced into the Archives to ensure the young master and the old man were inside. After making sure, she continued to the end of the hallway before stopping. Pulling aside an old painting at the end, the maid revealed an old telephone. Picking up the phone, she dialed a short sequence of numbers. As she entered the final number, she could faintly hear as every wired-in phone on the premise went off. Three seconds later, the ringing stopped and she waited for the response.

“Cook here. Another assault?”

“Gardener; seen nothing today, why the sudden alarm?”

“This is Maid; we're having a staff meeting at the conference room in 10 minutes. Don't be late...and Gardener, please wipe off your boots before entering.”

Both men hung up, leaving the maid alone on the line. Both would make it to the staff meeting. The cook would bring Karin with him. Elisabeth set the phone back on the receiver and replaced the painting. Checking it once, she was satisfied and headed to go pick up her own partner.

----------------

Elisabeth found Faith folding laundry in the laundry room. Despite her speed with the appliances, this girl couldn't fold laundry to save her life. She was struggling with a white button-up blouse, trying futilely to find the proper way. She glanced up as the maid walked in and forced a smile.

“Laundry's clean. Just...having troubles folding.”

“I see.” Elisabeth sat next to the young girl and began folding laundry. It took the two only a few minutes to finish up what little laundry was left. Putting the folded clothes into the laundry basket, the two headed out of the small room. Elisabeth handed the basket to Faith and closed the door behind them. “There's a staff meeting in the conference room. You've already met the cook. It's time for you to meet the other member of the staff.”

“The...scary guy, right?”

“Who's scary?” A soft, but firm voice called out from the main hall. Elisabeth looked towards the voice and shook her head. The resident psychopath had done it again. Clutched in one hand was a shovel, leaned against his shoulder. In the other was a hoe. Both were covered in dirt, not blood, which was a comfort to the woman. They hadn't been attacked today, at least not yet. Then she noticed the trail of dirt in his wake. Glaring at the man, Elisabeth shook her head in disgust. “Oh, this? Just got done weeding the main road when I got the call. Rather than double back and change, I decided to just come as is. Hey, Eric!”

(2/2)
“Hey, Patrick. Damn, that's a mess. You been doing your job?” The cook waved at the gardener before pointing out the dirt. Elisabeth took a deep breath then pointed towards the conference room.

“Let's get this meeting over with, shall we? I can clean the entryway, stairs, and conference room over again.” Both men began walking towards the stairs, still chatting quietly as Elisabeth surveyed the mess with dismay. The Gardener was truly an asshole. Elisabeth made sure both girls were with her, grabbing Karin's arm when she headed towards the two. She headed up the stairs, trying not to step on the dirt and make it worse. Pausing in front of the conference room, Elisabeth took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.

-----------

“So, basically two more charity cases?” The gardener asked in a bored tone. He had set his tools against the table, spreading more dirt in the room. This infuriated the maid, more than the charity comment.

“Basically, though both have unique abilities. Karin can regenerate an undefined amount of times. Faith has really good reflexes.” The cook declared from his side of the table, ignoring the glares both girls shot in his direction. Sighing, the cook turned towards Elisabeth. “On the matters of self defense, I've exhausted my supply of ranged weapons. The Taurus was my last piece and that psychic bitch destroyed it. You have any more weapons?”

“Only the two revolvers I scavenged and my knives, Eric. I can give you one, and I have plans this evening to go shopping for more assets. Do either of you need more weapons?” The maid glanced at both girls, who shook their heads. Faith motioned to where her band was strapped. Good, she was still wearing it. The maid glanced towards the cook, who was thinking. The Gardener grinned and leaned forward on the table.

“Does your dealer have bigger weapons? I broke my favorite pieces during the last assault on this mansion. Ten monsters were more than my precious blades could handle.”

“I need more weapons besides one revolver. If you could take me along, that would be great.” The cook added, as Elisabeth leaned back in her chair.

“She does sell pretty much any weapon if you have the cash. At least one of you needs to stay behind to defend this place.”

Both men glanced at each other then back at the maid. The gardener shook his shoulders and responded. “It doesn't matter to either of us; choose which one you'd like to go with the most?”

>go with the Gardener
>go with the Cook
>take Faith
>write-in

>>400177
>>go with the Cook
He's already a skilled fighter. May as well make sure he's armed.

>>400177
>>go with the Cook

>>400177
>go with the Cook

i like this option

>>400177
>>go with the Gardener
i wana see what he useing

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Voting has ended; going with the cook. Had business to take care of, my apologies.

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(1/2)
“Just write down what you need on a list, Patrick. We need you here to guard the perimeter. The cook is currently unarmed and you still have your tools. After all, the garden and everything outside is yours to guard” Elisabeth pushed out her chair and walked towards the door. The gardener began mumbling under his breath as he pulled a piece of paper and pen from his pocket. She ignored his griping and pushed open the door. A figure fell inside, almost crashing into her. She caught the person and maintained her balance, forcing a smile as she identified them. It was Alexander. “Oh, good afternoon, young master. What do you need?”

“Good afternoon, Elisabeth. I noticed dirt outside and followed it here. Why's the entire staff here?” The young boy regained his feet and tidied his clothes. His gaze traveled over the room, pausing only on the two girls. He bit his lip then turned back to Elisabeth. “If this is a meeting to induct the two girls to the Vermilion staff, I forbid any hazing. Understood?”

“Understood, young master. We wouldn't harm either of them, would we?” Elisabeth smiled and glanced back towards the two men. The gardener waved his hand dismissively and the cook just shrugged. The maid turned back towards the young boy and nodded. “See? We were just figuring out the best places for both girls to work. Faith will be my assistant and Karin will help Eric in the kitchen.”

“I see. That's good. In regards to pay, both girls will be put on an apprenticeship and paid half wages for the first two months. I'll see if I can find any safe places for the two to go in the mean time. Continue with the meeting.” Alexander spoke firmly before exiting the room. Elisabeth closed the door behind him and sighed.

“Let's end the meeting there, shall we?”

(2/2)
Elisabeth finished cleaning the dining room table as the cook cleared the final dishes. She'd already spoken to the young master, giving him an excuse in regards to their trip. He'd readily given his permission, trusting both. The maid had needed to finish cleaning the mess supper had been, and with the help of the cook it had been a quick ordeal. Pushing the final chair back into place, she turned towards the cook.

“You going to change out of that outfit?” He remarked, already changed into formal clothes. Elisabeth glanced down at her maid outfit and laughed softly. She would laugh at Elisabeth now, with her outfit and her life. But Elisabeth was happy, which not even that woman could deny. Elisabeth nodded before heading upstairs.

The maid met up with the cook after changing. The Humvee from before was bypassed for a more conspicuous Buick. The cook got in the driver's seat and Elisabeth gave him direction to the dealers. It would be a five hour drive to get into the city where the dealer was. She had grabbed both her revolvers, in case Elisabeth needed to defend the two of them.

“How do you feel about Alexander, Elisabeth?” The cook asked, as they turned off the interstate into the city.

“He's a good employer.” The maid replied curtly, staring out the window at the passing buildings.

“No, how do you really feel about Alexander? Every member of the staff has their reasons for being here now. I'm here because I owe the old man a debt that can't be repaid. Dying isn't an option for me or the gardener, either. Why did we follow the old man into that laboratory of madness? Because of the beliefs and emotions we held for the Vermilion family. You'll need to find the truth one of these days, Elisabeth. Death isn't forgiving.”

“I...understand.” The woman stared out the window, before pointing towards an alley. The cook pulled the car into the alley and began slowly driving down it. A sudden, ear-piercing scream shot through the alley as a figure darted around the corner further in. The maid drew the revolver from the belt and cocked the hammer back. Eyes not leaving the corner, the maid whispered. “Did you see what the fuck that was, Cook?”

“No. Where's your friend's place?”

“Around that corner. We can't take the car much further this way. We'll need to get out.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I don't know what the fuck that sound was, but this is some fucking horror movie shit. I'm still injured from last night as well, so this might not end well.” The cook punched the steering wheel and winced as the force hurt his chest. Elisabeth looked towards the cook then cursed her choice in partners. The gardener would have been the better option. Glancing towards the alley, she tried to decide what to do next.

>turn the vehicle around and go home
>get out and search for the figure
>take stock of current weapons, prepare to fight.
>write-in

>>401881
>take stock of current weapons, prepare to fight.

protect the cook some if we can. I'd hate to lose anybody out here. Especially right before a shopping trip gets started.

>>401881
>>take stock of current weapons, prepare to fight.
told you we should have picked the gardner

>>401881
>take stock of current weapons, prepare to fight.

Vote ended; take stock of current weapons and prepare to engage possible enemy. Ensure cook is protected if possible.

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The maid leaned forward in her seat, pulling the revolver belt up and around her waist. Firmly securing the buckle, she checked the revolver itself. A .357 Magnum Revolver, it would easily stop would-be assailants in close quarters. Spinning the chamber, she ensured it was fully loaded. Satisfied, she slipped it back into the belt. She began undoing the buttons on her sleeves, to allow quicker access to the knives strapped in her bands. Each band held a dozen throwing knives, for a grand total of twenty-four blades. She glanced over at the man seated next to her.

“Cook, what did you bring?”

He pulled an M9 from his belt, pulling two magazines from his pocket. “Courtesy of the old man. I have the cleaver as well. Want to go at the same time?”

“No. You stay inside. Lock the doors and prepare to gas it when I tell you.” Elisabeth unlocked the door and pushed it open. Stepping into the alley, she shivered as a cold breeze blew through. She slammed the door shut behind her and began walking forward. She could hear the thing further down the alley, growling and mumbling to itself. Her hand dropped to her revolver, as she continued walking forward. She paused on the corner, hand tightening around the grip of the firearm. Whirling around the corner, she drew the revolver and pointed it down the path. “Don't move!”

The woman's eyes widened as she was met by an empty street. She lowered the weapon and began walking forward, trying to locate the sound of the thing. It had gone silent after she had turned the corner. Whatever it was, it recognized weapons and anger. She paused as she stepped in something wet. Glancing down, she saw blood, a large pool of it at her feet. It was spreading, but from where? A single, wet drop fell from above, landing in the center and splashing dark, red liquid. Her gaze traveled upwards, as her heart began speeding up. What the fuck?

>roll 1d100; best of 3

Rolled 16 (1d100)

Oh, shit. Here goes nothing.

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>403119

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>403119

>Rolled 16, 73, 36
73 wins it. Writing now

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(1/2)
Hanging onto the window thirty feet above her was a man. Clutched in his hand was a woman, pale from loss of blood. She was dead, based on the pool of her blood on the ground. He looked down at her, eyes widening and pupils dilating. She changed her approach, changing her two-handed grip on the revolver to one. Her free hand drew a throwing knife, as the man dropped his 'lunch'. The body fell to the ground. He'd been eating her chest, judging by the blood on his face and the hole in her upper chest. Elisabeth ignored the body, stepping back and bringing her aim up. The man screamed, the same, heart-shaking sound from before. She fired a round and he vanished. Her eyes dropped, her hand moving to match, and locked on the man who had jumped. He landed on the woman's body, shattering more bones audibly. She fired another round and the man dodged it. Her eyes widened, as the man sprinted forward, thin limbs producing more power than should have been possible. She felt an itching in her chest, as she changed her aim again. She lined her revolver up with the man as he sprinted forward. He flattened his hands, like he was going to use them to cut her, and lunged forward. She fired a shot down, sending shards of rocks into his path. He winced as he sprinted directly into the hot rocks. She brought the revolver up and fired another round. His upper body blurred as he wove to one side, dodging the round aimed for his chest. She cursed and holstered the revolver. She'd draw it later when an opportunity to shoot presented itself. The man paused as the maid did this and grinned.

“The dealer said you'd come for me. The drugs, the drugs, they were an amazing thing! A high like none I've ever experienced before. But now that the dealer can't get anymore, I hear the voices. They're coming for me, just like you. The only way to make the voices quiet is by killing. But its starting to lose its effectiveness. So, would you die for me...Angel?”

(2/2)
Elisabeth's blood froze as she heard the name. This man had some tie with Johannes. Had Angel been the dealer? No, based on his statement, Angel was going to be the one sent out to cut loose ends. But, why? Her eyes widened. That bastard had been conducting tests this entire time, under the Old Man's nose. He'd been distributing drugs to the underground black markets, to test their effects on the scum of the city. It had turned people like this man into monsters. Elisabeth bit her lip as she looked at the giggling man. He suddenly collapsed to his knees, foaming at the mouth. He began screaming and shaking his head, as the maid watched in shock and silence. He fell onto the ground, banging his head against the pavement. Blood began staining the rocks as the man relentlessly beat his head against the concrete. He suddenly stopped, his eyes the most sane they had been. Slowly rising to his feet, he looked across at Elisabeth and shook his head with a frown.

“The voices are back. They'll kill me if I don't kill you, Angel. I'm sorry.” He vanished, stones where his feet had been shattering in response. Elisabeth spun both knives, eyes shooting to one side as the man landed on the ground next to her. His hands shot forward with the intention of impaling her. She responded in kind, stabbing her knife into the side of his hand and cutting the other to deflect both attacks. He pulled away, yanking the knife embedded in his hand from her grip. He stared at the blood splattering the ground from his hands and laughed. “You're not Angel. She could kill me with her head, or so the Dealer told me. You're a fake.”

With another laugh, he pulled the blood-covered knife from his hand and gripped it firmly. Elisabeth drew another knife from her band, glancing behind her. The cook was still in the alley behind her, in the car. She had to make a decision about what do next. The burning in her chest was growing, itching replaced by a dull throbbing.

>double-back to the chef
>knife fight time
>pull out the revolver
>write-in

>>403319
>>knife fight time
Chef can't fight properly and I doubt he'll get a clean shot in even if we're distracting this guy. Might as well one vs one this and see what happens.

>>403319
>>pull out the revolver
We can't bring Mr. Chef into this, he's too injured.

>>403351
>>403354
I'm thinking a combination of these would be best. Fight the junkie/mutie one on one with whatever works best at the time.

>>403465
>>403354
>>403351
Should I make:
>engage junkie in the art of gunfu
An option? A mixture of knife and revolver, to clarify

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>>403521
Oh hell yes.

Pooling all 3 combat votes into one, for the mixture of both and leaving the cook out. Writing now; this will be the last update of the evening.

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(1/2)
The man sprinted forward and swung the knife towards the maid. Elisabeth met his slash with her own and was pushed back by the strength of his slash. She began falling back, as more slashes rained down on her from all sides. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to drop one of her knives. The blade in his hand shot out, burying itself in her forearm. He pulled it out and tried to stab her again, but the maid pulled out of range before he could. Her vision was swimming, as the pounding heat in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. She took a deep breath as the ground began swimming in her vision. A sudden thought flashed through her head; a fear, something unsettling that shook her to the very core.

If the young master died, where would she go? After the final enemy had been slain by her hand, what would she have left? She didn't know, and that filled her with more fear than death itself.

The man saw Elisabeth stumble and start to fall. Seeing this as his opportunity, he darted forward, changing the grip he had on the knife. His intention was to slam the blade into her head and kill her in one shot. The maid suddenly shot back up to her feet, a look of hatred in her eyes. The hatred was so deep, so unsettling, the man stopped in his tracks, almost tripping in his attempt to stop.

(2/2)
Elisabeth slowly returned to her feet, vision clearing. The painful heat had completely engulfed her now. She glanced at her arm and realized the wound was already healing. It hadn't been deep, but this wasn't normal. She looked across at the man and realized what was happening. He had a drug of a similar type in his body to the serum she'd injected herself with. As long as he was alive, the serum in her body would continue activating its fail-safe protocol. Her open hand fell to her revolver, as her other tightened around the blade she held. Licking her lips, the maid drew her revolver in one motion. The man tried to sprint forward, as the maid raised the revolver and pointed it in his direction.

“Freeze!” She shouted, not expecting a response. The man completely ignored the command but his eyes darted towards her face. Elisabeth launched her knife out in the same instant, hitting him in the shoulder with the force of a rifle. He fell back screaming as she dashed forward. Stooping down when she passed her dropped knife, the maid scooped the blade into her open hand. The man managed to get a firm grip on the bloody knife lodged in his shoulder and tore it free, screaming in agony. He glanced up in time to get hit in the temple by Elisabeth's revolver butt. He staggered, slicing out with his two knives. Elisabeth brought her knee up into one of his wrists, shattering the bone audibly. She slammed her knife into his other arm, cutting clean through. Stepping forward, she cut his entire arm open to his elbow. The knives fell from his hands as he sobbed in pain and fear. Elisabeth picked the man up with her blood-covered hand and slammed him into the wall. She leaned forward and whispered in his ears. “I'm not Angel, but I will kill you, bastard. Then the burning will stop.”

Before he could reply, she jammed her revolver into his mouth and pulled the trigger. His brains splattered the brick wall behind him and his entire body convulsed violently. She threw his dead body to the side, taking deep breaths to try and dispel the heat in her body. As Elisabeth turned away from both, she noticed the door to the dealer's shop. It was cracked open, which was wrong. The Dealer always kept her shop secured. The car suddenly turned off, making the woman turn in shock. Had the cook decided to check on her? Her mind began racing. This damn heat wouldn't go away!

>see if the Dealer is in danger
>check the cook
>this heat...isn't going away?
>write-away

>>403784
>check the cook
This is a bad situation. We'll need to talk to the Old Man about this heat later.

>>403784
>>check the cook

>>403784
>check the cook
as first priority

>see if the Dealer is in danger
second

>this heat...isn't going away?
worry about this in a little bit, worry about not dying and losing contacts now.

>>403784
>Check on cookie!

>>403784
>>check the cook

Voting has ended; going with check the cook. Roll 1d100

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>404627

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>404627

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>404627
nat 1 incoming

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The maid stumbled down the alley, trying to keep her mind focused through the burning heat. As she turned the corner the heat more than doubled, forcing the maid to her knees. She struggled to keep from getting sick and barely managed to choke down the bile. Forcing herself to her feet, she glanced towards the car. The door was ripped out on the driver's side. The cook was nowhere to be seen.
Jogging forward, Elisabeth tried to pinpoint the direction her partner had been taken. A sudden gunshot came from a different alley further down. She changed her direction and speed, sprinting towards the alley. As she came to the opening, the heat increased, causing sweat to start beading on her brow. It was no longer a mental heat; it was taking a physical form now. She collapsed against a wall, looking further in. She saw the cook, guarding against two men. He was holding out like a champion, parrying knives and firing well-placed shots to disrupt his foes. Even then, he was only one injured man versus two drugged opponents. Elisabeth hit the cylinder release on the revolver and unloaded the empty casings. Focusing her swaying vision, she managed to load 4 rounds and only dropped one. Five bullets should be enough. Locking the cylinder back into place, she began walking forward. The closer she got to the trio, the more she fell apart. The serum wanted something from her, something she couldn't give it. She took a deep breath and raised the revolver as she pushed further into the alley.

“Stop attacking or I'll shoot you!” Elisabeth shouted, locking the hammer back on her revolver to further drive the point home. The two men stopped and looked at her. The cook changed aim, bringing his pistol up and shooting the closest one twice in the head. The man staggered forward, before whirling with a scream. The cook ducked and dived forward, rolling towards the maid. He regained his footing, as both began walking towards the staff members. Elisabeth paled as the injured man reached up and plucked the bullets from his skull. His partner seemed just as strange, growling in a low tone and fidgeting. Elisabeth's eyes didn't leave the two, as she muttered to the cook. “What's the deal with these two? Guh!”

The cook glanced towards the woman and noticed her condition. “You're sweating real bad, Elisabeth. Did you get injured over there? Shit, your arm!”

“Forget about the arm! Tell me what you know about these two!”

“Damn! The growling one has super-human strength and his partner is bullet-proof. I didn't get the opportunity to test my cleaver, unfortunately.” The cook chuckled, rising to his feet. He winced, grabbing at his chest. The maid noticed and began racking her brain for a solution.

>one-for-one trade; cook's cleaver for the revolver belt
>force the man to retreat to the dealer's
>try another round of gunfu; the heat's effect shouldn't incapacitate her for another 2 minutes
>write-in

>>404807
>>try another round of gunfu; the heat's effect shouldn't incapacitate her for another 2 minutes

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>>404807
Noticed one mistake; should be >revolver and revolver belt
for the first option. My apologies.

>>404807
>>try another round of gunfu; the heat's effect shouldn't incapacitate her for another 2 minutes

>>404807
>try another round of gunfu; the heat's effect shouldn't incapacitate her for another 2 minutes


Channeling some Jon Wu gonna help at all?

>>404807
>try another round of gunfu; the heat's effect shouldn't incapacitate her for another 2 minutes

I'm worried.

Voting ended; use gunfu

Roll 1d100; best of 4

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>405063
Gunfu is my waifu

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>405063

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>405063

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>405063

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>405065

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>405063
missed the vote, rolling for the hell of it

>>405266
Well, fuck, i'm happy i missed it with a roll this shit.

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(1/2)
Focusing on steadying her breathing, Elisabeth held one hand out in front of the Cook. She grimaced as sweat began running into her eyes. The chill from before was gone, replaced by this heat that threatened to completely overwhelm her. The cook reached forward to push her hand aside, but the maid pushed him backwards. As he stumbled away from the the woman, Elisabeth shouted loudly.

“Stay back! You're injured, Eric! And if you died...I couldn't face the young master later.” Her voice broke towards the end, as her gaze fell. The first man, the one resistant to bullets, sprinted forward with a scream of insanity. Elisabeth's reaction was almost instant. When the man swung his knife towards her neck, she stopped his slash with her throwing knife. Her revolver was thrust out, barrel slamming into the bridge of his nose. Before he could respond, she pulled the trigger. His head snapped back as his entire body fell backwards. As he crashed into the ground, the maid lowered the smoking revolver and ran towards the growling man.

(2/2)
The growling man noticed her as Elisabeth moved forward. He shifted his weight back, raising both his hands into a boxing stance. He recognized her threat and was responding accordingly. Elisabeth's knife hand dropped low as she prepared to cut his legs. A single, resounding crack pierced the air, as Elisabeth's charge was halted. She blinked once, trying to pinpoint what had happened. Her entire body crumpled, falling to her knees on the ground, as the man retracted his jab. It had happened faster than she could react. This man had practiced boxing, and it was showing now. She tried to make her legs move, force her arms to attack, or her head to move. It was like her entire body had shut down, in one, lethal strike. The burning was increasing in heat, as the man leaned down and ran one finger along her arm. He raised the blood-covered finger to his mouth and licked it. His growling ceased, as his ragged breathing began slowing. The man smiled softly and grabbed Elisabeth's chin.

“Let go of her, you cock-sucking piece of shit!” Eric's voice reached Elisabeth, but the maid couldn't respond in any way. The man looked past the maid at the cook and smirked.

“I have your cunt by the chin. I could snap her neck without trying.” Elisabeth's gaze narrowed, as the burning grew hotter. It was consuming her, forcing her closer and closer to that. The man leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “I don't know where you got it, but you took the raw shit. If what I took was a taste, you had the full goddamn meal and dessert. So, tell me where to find the drug, and I'll let you go in one piece.”

His gaze traveled downwards, surveying Elisabeth's body. He licked his lips then added. “Well, after my friend and I have had our fun.”

As if in response, the man she'd shot in the forehead sat up, pulling the blood-stained copper round out of his forehead. The injured man looked extremely pissed. Elisabeth focused on her breathing, trying to minimize the heat and make her body respond. The injured man rose to his feet, walking out of her sight towards the cook. Her mind began frantically grasping for ideas, a way to escape this mess. A sudden, terrifying thought crossed her mind, one that was utterly insane.

Embrace this heat, use its strength. One step closer to Angel would only make you a better servant for the young master. Humanity is weakness, after all.

>Roll 1d100; best of 3

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>405366

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>405366
If we really do leave our humanity behind, I hope there's a way to get it back.

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>405366

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>405366

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(1/2)
Elizabeth's heartbeat was getting louder, as the man continued jeering at his friend. She could hear the gunshots, as cook tried to shoot the man he was fighting. She tried moving her body, forcing it to shake off the effects of the punch. But it was impossible; the blow had been too effective. She closed her eyes, as the man leaned forward.

“Let's have a little fun, shall we?” He pinched her jaw, forcing her mouth open. She couldn't resist as he began kissing her roughly. His mouth tasted like alcohol and something else. The burning grew in intensity. His proximity was making the serum go berserk in her system. She felt his tongue enter her mouth and saw her chance. Slamming her mouth shut, she bit completely through his tongue. He pulled away, screaming as blood poured from his mouth. She spat the tongue to one side and tried to spit his blood from her mouth. The burning finally reached its peak, causing the maid's body to convulse involuntarily. She fell forward, as the man rose to his feet. He brought his foot up, preparing to smash it downwards on her head. He brought his foot down hard, smashing Elisabeth's face into the pavement.

The burning was gone, replaced by the same ecstasy during her fight with Angel. Her eyes widened, as she felt his foot slam into the back of her head. Sliding one arm in front of her face, she braced against the impact. The ground broke under her arm, but her body was already recovering from the impact. Pushing herself backwards onto her feet, she secured her revolver and drew another knife. The man was shocked, blood running from his mouth and dripping from his chin. He sprinted forward, throwing a punch towards the maid. She met his arm from the side with her revolver, blowing a quarter-sized hole through his forearm. His punch went wide, as he screamed in agony. The maid stepped forward as his gaze traveled from the bloody arm to her. Slamming the knife up through the bottom of his jaw, the maid lifted the man off the ground. He continued upwards, blood spilling from the hole in his chin. Elisabeth yanked the knife free and slammed it into his chest, piercing through his sternum. Twisting the knife and shoving it completely in, Elisabeth turned. The man crashed to the ground on his back, blood staining his chest. Elisabeth sprinted forward, as the bullet-proof man managed to disarm the cook. Passing both, she grabbed the side of the man's head. She hefted his entire body off the ground, before slamming him headfirst into the ground. The ground shattered and his head cracked audibly. The man was shaken, as Elisabeth brought her foot up. Slamming it down, his head exploded, sending gore across the pavement. She took a deep breath and turned towards the cook.

(2/2)
“You injured?”

“No. Are you...okay?” The cook's nervous tone made Elisabeth pause. She looked at her blood-covered outfit and realized what the man felt. He was afraid of her. She took a deep breath and turned away.

“I'm...fine. Let's go.” The feeling was dispersing, but she could feel its effect still. It had changed her in some way.

>Go find the dealer
>head home; this was too dangerous, and the Old Man needed notified
>write-in

>>405687
>>head home; this was too dangerous, and the Old Man needed notified

Also, roll 1d5 to see what the 2nd Activation changed. First two rolls will be taken

Rolled 2 (1d5)

>>405700

Rolled 5 (1d5)

>>405700
>Go find the dealer
Might as well finish what we came here for.

>>405717
A high number is a good thing right? Right?

>>405717
>>405706
>2,5
Quicker reflexes and less stimulus needed to activate super maid.

>>405694
>Go find the dealer

It's why we're here, after all.

>>405694
>Go find the dealer

Voting ended; go find the dealer
Writing now.

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The two walked back to the car. Elisabeth could no longer feel the heat. It vanished as suddenly as it had engulfed her. Opening the trunk on the car, she pulled out the two briefcases. Both were filled with money, for the deal. She walked towards the street, as the cook glanced back at the damaged car.

“Think your friend has a car we could borrow?”

“She has plenty of them. Getting one immediately might be a problem, but she has them. She has a bit of everything. In fact, I think I know who sold those drugs to the men.” Elisabeth didn't glance towards the cook, as she continued walking. The dealer had been one of Elisabeth's closest and oldest friends when she'd been an assassin. The kind of woman who would sell anything for the right amount of money. The maid smiled, recalling their last meeting. Stopping five feet from the door, she took a deep breath. The woman started sprinting forward, hefting both suitcases in front of her. Kicking the door open, she dived into the room. A loud boom shook the room, as someone fired an anti-armor rifle inside. The door, swinging back from the sudden impact, took the round and exploded into wooden shards.

“Deborah, you fucking bitch, it's me!” Elisabeth shouted as she rolled to one side. The sound of a bolt being locked back met the maid, as a smoking casing fell to the ground.

“Elisabeth? Is that you?” The reply made Elisabeth sigh. The dealer was still in charge, it seemed. The cook leaned around the shattered door and spoke.

“Hey, is it cool for me to come in? Don't want to get killed by a stray round.”

“Come on in, sonny. Elisabeth, how have you been? It's been years since you came by!” The brown-haired woman strolled out of the darkness, huge rifle clutched in both arms. Elisabeth noticed a pool of blood on the ground. Raising a questioning brow, she motioned towards the pool of blood. “That? A group of rowdy boys who wouldn't take 'the drugs gone' as an answer. I guess you were met by the rest of their crew?”

Elisabeth rose to her feet, picking up both suitcases. The maid walked over to the switch on the wall and hit it. Fluorescent lights flickered to life, casting light on the dining room. The tile floor was covered in blood and the walls were lined with bullet holes. Deborah was covered in blood, but it wasn't her own. There were men on the floor, three bodies with holes. Two more bodies were slumped on the walls, huge holes in their bodies. Not from the rifle, but Deborah's sidearm. The one unfortunate man who'd gotten the rifle treatment was splattered on the wall behind Elisabeth, missing more than half of his chest cavity. Deborah pointed towards the back.

“The business room is further in. You here for more weapons?”

“Yes, Deborah. Had a run-in with the man who made the drugs you distributed.” Elisabeth walked further into the large room, following the woman. Deborah shook her head, obviously disgusted that she had lost a source of income. “He was threatening my current employers, so he needed to vanish.”

“I understand, Elisabeth. You always were the straight-laced type, who valued efficiency above all else. Here.” The woman stopped at the back of the dining room, pushing aside a serving cart. Reaching where it had been, the woman pushed a tile in. Part of the wall shifted inwards, as the woman returned the cart to its place. Pushing the wall inwards revealed a staircase. “Come on in. I received a new shipment of firearms the other day. All high-quality, but will require the dollar to match. What's that look about?”

Deborah led the two into a giant hangar, lined with thousands of different weapons. All manner of firearms, blades, explosives, and poisons filled the huge room, easily capable of outfitting an entire army. The cook paled as he surveyed the entire arsenal. This woman could easily crush any army with this sheer amount of firepower. The woman led the two to a small couch and chair with a table to one side. Sitting in the chair, she looked across at the two.

“Sit. Let's discuss business.”

>discuss weapons; (wish-list time)
>ask about the drugs
>Write-In

>>406141
>>ask about the drugs

>>406141
>>ask about the drugs

>>406141
>ask about the drugs

then

>discuss weapons; (wish-list time)

>>406141
>ask about the drugs

Also I'm gonna throw my weapons wishlist in anyway.

>x2 FK Brno pistols
>MG3
>FN FAL
>FN 2000 with grenade launcher
>MP5K
>x2 UZI submachineguns

>>406141
>>406196
I'll add in my wishlist too. It's short.

1x .50 Beowulf AR with fixed 3x magnifying red/green dot sight (sight magnifier can swing out of the way) and threaded muzzlebreak/compensator

1x stubby remington 12 gauge pump shotgun, 3+1 round capacity

maybe flechette ammo if she has some

1x FN P90/PDW 5.7x28mm with red/green sight

FN FAL

2x High-capacity .40 cal handguns, minimum 13+1 rounds (likely glock or springfield)

More melee stuff, knives, taser, asp/extendable baton, pepper spray (never know, right?)


...ok, longer list than i thought.

>>406400
>>406435
These wishlists are pure sex. I'll add mine.

Essential Slavcore:

>AKM
>KS-23
>PTRS
>x2 DP-28

For removing of fascist.

And if we're talking ammo too, API (armor piercing incendiary), Dragon's breath (low grade "flamethrower" rounds), Flechettes (little finned darts), standard hollowpoints, and some of those ever-elusive Black Talon rounds, we may be getting close to prepared. Maybe even some prefragmented rounds (they split into 3-5 pieces after impact) for softer targets so they bleed out quicker.

maybe handload/acquire pitbull rounds for 12 gauge as well (1 oz. slug with 6x 00 buckshot behind it)

Voting ended; going with ask about the drugs

In regards to the wishlist, to minimize hassle I will be compiling a list of weapons in storage, for future use. Don't be too disappointed if I don't list every weapon requested. Been fighting against the internet this afternoon

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“How long were you selling drugs from Johannes, Deborah?” The maid stared at the older woman across the table. The dealer laughed and leaned back in her chair.

“For as long as that man, then brat, gave the drugs to me. It was incredible stuff; bums who were about to die were suddenly young and spry again. The only issue is the drug was severely addicting. People who went without it for more than a week killed themselves due to 'voices in their head'. The individuals who overcame those voices gained unique powers that were incredible. I refused to let any of them know who the supplier was. Imagine my surprise when I find out the supplier is dead. Needless to say, those who abused the drugs are now insane monsters roaming the streets. Though you might find this interesting.”

The woman pushed a piece of paper across the table. It was dirty and torn, with blood staining the white portion. But the maid recognized the address. The message was short and dreadful.

The drug is being hidden in this location. Have fun finding it!

The maid bit her lip and grabbed the piece of paper. Crumpling it in her hand, she pulled the list from her pocket. Scribbled on it was a long, impressive list of weapons. Another, dirty piece of paper was laid on top of the first. The dealer picked up both, surveying the lists.

“One claymore...what is this, medieval Europe? Oh, whatever. Soviet weapons, NATO ordinance, pepper spray...are you pretending to be a blonde? Whatever. I'll have it delivered to your premise secretly. The payment?”

Elisabeth set both suitcases onto the table, opening them. Inside were stacks of hundred dollar bills. The dealer picked up one, flicking through the fresh bills, before setting it back into place. Locking both, she pulled them onto her side.

“That should be more than enough. Need any other favors outside of weapons?”

“I'll need the weapons delivered discreetly, in a way that won't alert the others in the mansion. Also, a new car to replace the damaged Buick outside. I'll also need some weapons immediately for the two of us.” The maid rose from her seat, turning towards the weapons cache. The cook rose from his seat, as Deborah sat in her chair.

“I'll get my men on the car issue immediately. Swapping plates and numbers won't be difficult. Should only take about thirty minutes. Feel free to take what you deem necessary. Only as much as you can carry discreetly, okay?”

The maid nodded as she walked into the shelves of weapons. Assault rifles, pistols, revolvers, and shotguns lined the walls, spanning from different countries to different ages. The maid walked forward, trying to decide what to take with her. She needed something powerful enough to protect against the threat that was headed to the mansion now.

>choose one pistol, rifle, and shotgun; feel free to discuss. Rest will be delivered in the near future

>>407623
>Pistol
FK Brno

>Rifle
FN 2000

>Shotgun
Ithaca 37 short

>>407623
>Pistol
matched pair of .40 springfield XD's (if possible)

>Rifle
1x .50 Beowulf AR with fixed 3x magnifying red/green dot sight (sight magnifier can swing out of the way) and threaded muzzlebreak/compensator

>Shotgun
Ithaca 37 short with flechette and pitbull rounds. they exist and are legal to purchase (all of them, almost), look 'em up

>>407713
Sky is literally the limit right now; the Dealer has pretty much every purchasable firearm in existence right now. Not all would be helpful in an actual fight, but they are there. Just to clarify.

>>407731
Fair enough, i'll wait on other anons to see if we reach a consensus, But dat compact .50 AR...

>>407731
In that case,

>Pistol
Micro UZI

>Rifle
M1918 BAR

>Shotgun
Ithaca 37 short (with bayonet)

In all honesty, this may be the last evening I'm able to update. I hope to get Maid-chan and Cook back to the mansion before I have to leave for the evening. I might be able to update over the next few days, but then I'll be leaving for work. Military shit, I'll be gone for two weeks.

>>407758
I'm completely down for getting the .50 AR. Also, my main reason for my choice of pistol is that the FK fires a bullet that supposedly does the same amount of damage as an AK round. They're still in the prototype stage though.

>>407782
That's unfortunate. Best of luck with military stuff then.

Military shit? Don't go dying on us, Meido! You keep your happy ass good and safe!

Voting has ended; Ithaca 37 Short wins as the shotgun. Making polls for both pistol and rifle; will be posting shortly.

>>407804
I can totally compromise for the FK pistol for the .50 AR, thats not even an issue for me.

Pistol:
http://www.strawpoll.me/10827484
Rifle:
http://www.strawpoll.me/10827494

>>407836
made my votes.

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(1/2)
The maid paused next to one of the shelves, kneeling and pulling a luggage bag from under it. Rising to her feet, she noticed a shotgun. The barrel was shorter in length than she was used to. The cook noticed her gaze and spoke up.

“That's an Ithaca Model 37, modified with a shorter barrel. Recoil will be a bitch, but it definitely has stopping power. I'd take it.”

He turned back to his shelf, scanning the rifles. She pulled the Ithaca 37 down, adjusting the carrying strap and looping it over her back. Grabbing five boxes of 12 gauge ammo, she put them in the bag. Noticing strange boxes with no label, she pushed those in as well. A trump card might be handy in the fight to come. Satisfied, she slung the luggage bag over one shoulder and continued walking. Noticing an AR-15 with a larger upper receiver than usual, she pulled it down to examine it. It was a higher caliber than .556, but how high exactly. Setting the rifle against the shelf, she knelt down and examined the ammunition below. The ammo was .50? That was definitely more than enough stopping power. Separating the receivers, she tucked both into the bag. Pulling five cases of ammo from the bag, she tucked those inside the bag along with spare magazines. She noticed the name of the manufacturer on the side of the ammo box. Beowulf. She noted that mentally and pushed onward.

“Does this look good enough?” The cook walked from behind a shelf, holding a Taurus Raging Bull. The maid nodded and pushed past, as the cook called out from behind. “Hey! Don't judge me! I like this manufacturer!”

(2/2)
Pausing on her way down the shelves, she noticed a newer pistol. She hadn't seen one like it before. Lifting it off the shelf, she held it in her hands to admire it. It was a single-action, which didn't bother the maid. It was lighter than the revolver she'd been using. Picking up a box of ammo, she paused to observe it. It wasn't like the .9mil or .45 she'd been using for her revolver and Glock. Deborah suddenly appeared, tapping the maid on the shoulder. Elisabeth jumped, almost dropping both pistol and ammo.

“The car is ready. Also, let me disclose some info free of cost. My men noticed the streets were relatively empty of the abusers of Johannes' drugs. You are free to do what you will with that info. Oh, that's the FK BRNO. Just got a new shipment of those in the other day. Reliable pistol, for what its worth.”

Dropping the pistol into the bag, Elisabeth grabbed magazines and ammo from the shelf. After she shoved those into the bag, she nodded towards Deborah. “Thanks for the info. I trust you'll get the weapons to me at the mansion. Till next time, Deborah.”

Before the dealer could respond, the woman began walking the length of the shelves. She found the cook debating between two sniper rifles. Forcing him to take the Dragunov, she grabbed the man and headed towards the stairs. As they moved, she explained the situation to him. When they reached the surface, the cook paused.

“Someone's outside.” Drawing the revolver, he stepped into the light, preparing to shoot. A single, older man stood in the dining room, mopping up blood. The bodies from before were gone. The old man noticed both of them and held out a set of keys. The cook took them and the two headed outside. They found themselves with a Buick that was identical to the one from before, all be it shinier and with less dents. Trading up worked out this time. The maid climbed in as the cook did the same. “Elisabeth, be prepared to fight our way inside. You did grab silencers for your weapons, right?”

The maid paled as she tossed the bag and weapons in the back. After securing the weapons and ammo in the back, she slumped against the dash. The cook watched then commented.

“Don't worry; I grabbed a suppressed Glock for you. I have one as well, for the initial push if need be. You ready?”

“Yeah. Let's go back to the mansion. We have a master to protect.” Elisabeth pushed away from the dash with a sigh, before staring into the darkness above the street. She didn't know what going back into contact with the drugged men would do to her. But she had one decree above the rest; defend the young master. As the car began driving, she closed her eyes. She would get some rest before the next fight.

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>End, Part 3
-------------
Thanks for playing and reading! I will end this thread here; the next thread will be when the Army gives me time. My twitter is https://twitter.com/MeidoCerulean ; I will post updates and the times I will be running Hitmaid. Thanks again for taking the time to vote and read!

>>408190
Thanks for running!

>>408190
All the /k/ talk kinda went over my head but that rifle we picked up looks cool. I'm curious as to where you're taking this, or if you even have a plan in mind, since that first arc was so perfectly last boss like that I honestly didn't think it would go anywhere else. Anyway, thanks for running and see ya next time Meido.

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>>408253
I'm glad you've hung around since the first arc, comrade. I'm running with what knowledge I have from the military and what I've researched to run this story. At times it's been very spur of the moment when it comes to plot. But, the first arc and every subsequent arc will all come together in a grand finale, if everything goes well. Thanks again for reading!

>>408440
Forgot my trip. On mobile.

nice read ahha i was hee from the start as well, op has handled this well
i guse for a bit we are just going to do normal things till angle pops up or something i guse