Twilight sat casually on a desk in a shoddy concrete room, her legs slowly swaying back and forth. Minions flanked her on either side. They all wore similar grey pin striped suits. Twilight herself wore a button down shirt, navy blue blazer, and a knee length skirt. The combat boots she wore on her feet sharply contrasted with the rest of her attire, but she was more interested in function than fashion, and today someone needed their guts stomped out. A man sat in the middle of the room tied to a chair. The room was dark, save for the center, which was lit by a single bulb. The man in the center of the room watched as Twilight casually unsheathed a particularly large bowie knife.
“This is a nice Arkansas toothpick you’ve got here Brutus,” she remarked, “very high quality steel.”
“Yeah,” the man tied to the chair asked, “it wouldn’t have looked bad shoved up your-“
“Careful now,” Twilight interrupted, “the next words out of your mouth might be your last,” She punctuated her words by pointing the knife at Brutus.
“If you think you’re getting anything out of me you’re stupider than you look,” Brutus spat at her.
Twilight got up and casually strode over to Brutus. She leaned over and sat in his lap like a child sitting on Santa Claus’ lap at a mall.
“Oh Please,” she said. She placed broad side of the knife on Brutus’ cheek. The point sat just centimeters away from his eye. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Heh, why don’t you blow me while you’re at it bitch,” was Brutus’ only remark.
Twilight up until then had been reasonably pleasant. She didn’t yell at him or smack him around, but the time for pleasantries was over. She scowled and pushed the knife harder against Brutus’ skin. The blade then became suddenly and inexplicably hot. It glowed orange and began to burn its way into Brutus’ skin. Brutus in response began to scream in pain. He strained against his restraints, trying to get away from the hot blade. After a few seconds, Twilight lifted it off of him and stood up. She took a few steps back and waited for Brutus to stop yelling.
“You bitch,” he said through gritted teeth, “do you know who I work for? When they hear about this they’ll-“
“Yes yes,” Twilight interrupted once again, “threaten me with torture rape and death. Please spare me the dramatics. I know all about Filthy Rich and Big Cannoli’s partnership. Consider this your last chance to tell me something I don’t know.”
“You think you’re so smart,” Brutus replied snidely, “but only a moron would take on Big Canoli now that he has infinitely deep pockets.”
Twilight casually balanced the bowie knife on her palm. A purple aura enveloped it and it floated several inches above her hand.
“Maybe so, but I can think of one thing I have that he doesn’t,” Twilight said.
Brutus’ eyes opened wide. He stared at the floating knife with shock.
“You’re… You’re a,” he stuttered.
Twilight smiled slyly. “Go on. You can say it.”
“You’re a Jik!”
Twilight’s smile instantly turned into a look of disdain. She swung her arm and pointed at Brutus. The floating knife flew across the room with incredible speed and buried itself hilt deep in Brutus’ chest. His eyes grew wide as he stared at the knife in his chest. A few choking sounds later, and Brutus was dead.
“I prefer the term Magical American if it’s all the same to you,” Twilight remarked. She magically grasped the hilt of the knife and brought it back to her hand. She then proceeded to clean it with a rag she produced from her back pocket.
“Get this trash out of here,” Twilight said casually, “remove the head and throw it on the steps of the Grand Sunrise Hotel.”
“Understood boss,” the tall man to her left said before turning to the rest, “let’s get it to it boys.”
“Spike,” Twilight called. A short muscular man with a dragon tattoo on his neck stepped forward. “Get the car. We’re leaving.”
***
The car ride was rather quiet. Twilight lounged in the back seat of Spike’s new car, and thought about her next move. Big Cannoli had sent an assassin after her, and that meant war. Despite her cool nature in front of her men, Twilight was very concerned. War with the biggest mob east of the Mississippi river would be costly. Many of the people she trusted would be killed if she didn’t think of something fast.
A series of bumps in the road broke Twilight out of her train of though. Spike was now driving down a gavel path through the woods. She could hear Spike grumbling to himself. Twilight didn’t bother asking, because she knew what it was about. It was because the new black Cadillac Series 70 she made him drive did not meet his high standard of performance. Unfortunately for him Twilight was the boss and she liked the back seat. “Get me the right to have to drive one of these things and you can have whatever car you want,” she had once said to him. It reminded Twilight that she really should learn to drive a car one of these days, even though she was legally prohibited.
The car made it’s way down the path until it came upon a lone cabin. Twilight thanked Spike, as always, and stepped out of the car. It turned around in the circle drive and headed back the way it came, leaving Twilight alone.
Twilight stood and admired the large cabin in front of her. She had always wanted one as a child. Now that she had one she couldn’t stop looking at it. The cabin represented everything she had worked for since she was a child. It was the little things in life that kept her going. She continued to stand there in the cool night air, listening to the sound of Spike’s car driving away. The lights were still on downstairs, which meant Jewel was still up.
Twilight finally decided to walk inside. She made her way up the steps to the porch and walked through the door into the kitchen.
“Jewel!” She called upon entering. She soon heard footsteps coming from the living room. Jewel walked in the room, wearing her nightgown and holding a cup of tea.
“You’re back,” she said and placed the teacup down on the table.
“I’m going to need that massage you promised me this morning,” Twilight said as Jewel helped her remove her blazer.
“Of course. Stressful day,” Jewel asked casually.
“You could say that,” Twilight replied.
They both walked into the living room. It was a simple room with a couch, bearskin rug, and various paintings depicting elements of nature. Twilight heard gun sound effects coming from the radio set by the fireplace.
“More western’s I see,” Twilight remarked.
“Indeed it is. Tonight is the daring adventures of Wild Bill Hickok,” Jewel said. Twilight pointed at the tuning dial and magically turned it all the way to the off position.
“With me around I thought you’d be tired of wild gun slingers,” Twilight said. She and Jewel walked across the room to the staircase on the back wall. Jewel smiled and wrapped an arm around Twilight’s midsection as they ascended to the next floor.
When they reached the bedroom Twilight walked in and plopped down on the particularly large bed. Jewel climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged behind Twilight. The moment Twilight felt Jewel’s hands on her shoulders, all of the day’s stresses seemed to melt away. No amount of assassins, thugs, or gunfights with the police could ruin this moment. Twilight might be a sorceress, but it was Jewel who truly had the magic fingers. Twilight sighed and let Jewel work on her shoulders and upper back.
“You know,” Twilight began, “despite everything, I’m actually quite awake right now.”
“Is that so,” Jewel asked, “Well, we’ll just have to do something to burn that extra energy,”
“It’s a bit late for a jog on the trail,” Twilight said.
Jewel reached around and started unbuttoning Twilight’s shirt.
“Don’t you play dumb with me missy,” Jewel mock scolded.
“Well alright then,” Twilight replied. She turned around and pushed Jewel onto her back. She admired her partner for a brief moment before climbing on top of her. Jewel really was the best at making Twilight forget about her problems.