The Death of Marcus :a short:

Ciara sat at her desk, smirking and tapping her fingers against the smooth wood. She was very happy to see what was about to go down. Two of her most trusted workers, brought Marcus in with their strong arms, handcuffed and his legs tied together with a thick rope. She had asked them to leave his mouth alone, she wanted him to scream and let his pathetic emotions break out when it all went down, she wanted to see the pain and misery light up his eyes, and it was simply a glorious psychological meltdown in her eyes. When they bought him in, they bowed their heads in great respect that would follow them to the grave. The left Marcus on the floor in Ciara's office to suffer and left the room without a word, just as Ciara had asked.

She got up from her desk and continued her smirk. She brushed her elegant hair a tad bit and put on a bit of a laugh. "Oh, Marky, you have gotten yourself into trouble once more, what are we going to do with her?"

"Ciara, don't play with me. I did nothing wrong!"
"I beg to differ. Your behavior made our special kind of business blunt and that will not do. I can't have you running around risking the chance that we might be discovered. You bloody idiot."

He glared at her, the lady who gave him and his wife his fortune was now playing with him with the fingers of death. "It won't happen again! Trust me…" He normally wasn't the type to get loud and outrageous, but death was always something that freighted him, even if he'd never admit it. Ciara hadn't even pulled a gun or knife on him or forced him to eat poison or even tried to kill him yet, his problem was that the person he admired once was treating him like trash, if it hadn't been for Eleanor, he might have loved Ciara. But he was soon figuring out that her personality was simply a mask to fool people, a way of only getting benefits for herself…

"Oh, Marky, Marky! Such sillyness won't be tolerated anymore. In-fact, tolerating it will be completely impossible, because soon you will be no more, just as it should be," said Ciara giggling.

Two masks have slide down on Ciara at this point, her fake kindness and manipulation was gone, she wasn't being cold and calculating ripping him with psychological terrors like she normally did with her prey before committing the deed; she was being flat out psycho.

"Ciara! P-please! I have a wife back home!" He begged for a return of salvation, but was quite fruitless with the results.

"I'm not taking any chances at all. How can you blame me, huh, Marky? You always were lacking in the field of brains."

"Ah, yeah…thanks," he grumbled.
She grabbed a gun from one of the drawers in her desk, an expensive one of course, she walked over to him, making a noise with her high-heels. She placed the gun on his face,

making him shiver. Instead of pulling the trigger, she just played with the fear in the tone she had been using before. "Is little boy Marky scared?"
"Ciara, I –"

He was cut off by the pull of a trigger and large bang-sound that followed. Oh, how Ciara loved pulling it when they never expected it.