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a new killer on the block
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"Perhaps in a closet, then, if you can select a target with that much fineness."

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"I wouldn't be able to fit both of us. But... The hallway outside their door should be empty."

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"After you, then.  As it were."

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Ze nods - 

And the world spins into colors, then unravels into an unremarkable hallway, thin carpet beneath their feet, walls mostly clean except for a few water stains near the ceiling.

There's a few doors off of it, but Tyrannissa gestures to a particular one. White painted wood, unassuming.

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He and Bast both can move very quietly.  No putting on a show today: his movements, his demeanor, are optimized for stealth and efficiency.  Gently, gently, turning the doorknob and easing the door open, cautious of creaking hinges.

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There's a woman, reading on her desktop computer, headphones over her ears and gaze currently turned away from him.

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Bast peers around silently, looking for her daemon.

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A fennec fox has one ear poking out of a nest of blankets near her feet. 

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There is a knife at the woman's throat, now, and a paw pressing down on the fox's blankets.  Both are told, quietly, not to scream.

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She freezes, eeps, and the fox squirms then goes still. "Who - who are - who are you?" she asks, voice shaking and not loud but rising in pitch in a way that might be uncharitably misinterpreted.

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"My name is Thomas," he says, and he slits her throat.

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She gurgles, tries to scream but can't - 

And collapses, blood spurting from her carotid and painting the walls and soaking the floor.

Her fox has enough time to start a shrill alarm before dissolving.

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Tyrannissa steps into the room.

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"Time to go, I think," he says, contorting his face into unsettling unrecognizability in case someone else follows.

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"Yes."

And the world dissolves again, depositing them back next to Decima.

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"Have fun?" she asks.

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"The fun part comes in a few weeks, when the whole continent is hysterical."

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"Oh, that'll be delightful! Though it might take some time to filter all the way through the networks. But I suppose if we make enough of a splash..."

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"My thoughts exactly."

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"Do you want to move the body to the roof, or leave it?"

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"It may be unwise to try to re-enter.  The dead woman's daemon managed to sound the alarm, unfortunately."

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"Pity. Should we be moving on, then? I do believe we are done for the night..."

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"Yes, let's."

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Dolores, having finished resting (mostly), takes off, and flits them back to just out of sight of the current hideout. 

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He smiles.  "A good day's work."

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