Marvel: A dame to remember (DeadPool) -Zomb x Temptation-

[xxxzombiechildxxx]

The night was cold, but nothing a man like Wade couldn't handle. Looking up, he can see the full moon, an ominous sign, and looking down, he can see her... In the window. His target, his ticket to a new pay check. A snicker escapes his lip's, as he lays back on the cold wet rooftop. His voices louder then ever. He could barely make out much, but soon clarity became possible enough for a conversation. ' She is sooo fucking fine.' A voice said in his head, understatement of the century one might say. She was.... Gorgeous! With long leg's, fair skin, brown hair A tight frame that rivals most models... And those eyes! Multi colored and vibrant, a beautiful gaze that melts your heart in a micro instant! Much can be said, for the list goes on and on. And, it may just be endearing, if not for the creepy fact that Deadpool was simultaneously thinking of performing a- "Wo! Narrator. Think of the children. I think my perverse thoughts should stay my own don't you?" .... Ya I.... I can hardly argue.... "Well, then move on. But without describing my... Oh ho ho, uh, vivid.... Imagination."

Yes... Yes... Any way! As he began to put his sniper rifle together, his voices continued their little conversation. It's progression resulting in an almost predictable but, honestly non arguable way. 'But she is our target. She is worth 3 million dollars simply dead, double if alive... No one worth that much is any good, or worth the effort... Right...?' 'Well, fuck that. We don't know? So why snipe her? Make it personal. Maybe, if we get some context... We can help her!' "Help her? The fuck?! Why help her?" 'Think about it. If she is actually in need of help. We can use that, get some of that sweet tail.' 'Well, other then that... It's always nice to be on the right side of the moral line.' 'See, even smart voice thinks I got something here.' 'It's half a thought, you hardly have anything. However, I think that's good enough for us to at least try.'

"Fine!" He said, as he flipped back and landed on his feet. "We are going right in there!" 'Ya!' Deadpool spoke as he began to pace back and forth along the roof top. "We are going to size her up, see whats what and possibly.... Hopefully! No absolutely! Get in that butt." 'Right on! Liking the plan.' 'I must say that I am excited myself.' As wade walked a fair distance from the roof's edge, he spoke once more. However, it's stupidity was so profound. That even one voice in his head was able to know it was really dumb. "And im going right through that window!" 'Ya!- No! no! no! Don't do-' And before his thought bubble can truly object, he had a running start. Jumping from the side of the roof, and flying into the window in the lower floor of the building across from him. Glass shatter's, and sparkles in the dim light of the moon, as the ominous figure roll's into the living room. Landing in a crouched position.

Standing up, he was well within plain view of the women. Watching him from her bedroom. He faced her, seeing that certainly she must be in shock. With an intense look in his eye he stared her down in the darkness of the apartment. Observing her in a manner that seemed methodical, calculated. When in reality he was starring at her amaaaazing figure. He fought just to not have stone cutting hard wood right then and there! Especially as he seemed to have caught her in a, well, compromising attire. Promiscuous, to say the least.

But, soon his tense stature, and intense stare wavered, his ADD taking full effect. "Oh! What a nice apartment! I mean. Mines just plain out crap. But this is pretty Charming. Not as big but lots of personality. Though, needs more unicorns dont you think? Or, huh! Maybe a uni-lion? How about that. How are you by the way?" .......... Crickets can practically chirp in that very moment, and would do nothing for the awkward silence. 'Wow, quite the charmer I see.' 'Ya, nice work Smooth mcgroove, I bet she's all wet for the man breaking in to give her decoration praise. Maybe if she starts getting fashion advice from the scarred creep in a black and red leotard she will have nipples hard as a snow storm.' "Shut up.... I swear im better at this, I just got a bit nervouse in the moment." He whispered towards the voices in his head. He was embarrassed enough and didn't need the ridicule to boot! But all that served was looking more crazy, as he called out to the silence to shut up. "Ok I went about this all wrong..." 'Ya think.' "Allow me to start this aaaal over, kay'babe? Hi, I am Deadpool. And I am an assassin that came for your head." 'Oh ya that's what she wants to hear. Now you have her swooning in your arms over a loss of her own HEAD!' ' T_T We were totes going to get laid, now were creeps.' "B-But I don't want to! Because your really hot. And I want to do ya... I mean, because I want to make sure I aint killing an innocent. Ya that's it... Because you dont seem like some supervillian. Your not a supervillian right? No ray guns or anything?"


Meanwhile....

"It is unfortunate that Doctor Garret had to be disposed of. His expertise would have been invaluable for my project." A distorted voice spoke out to. Wilson Fisk leaned back in his desk chair, hands promptly placed on his desk. "You mean, our project. Need I remind you of my funding?" The Kingpin spoke in a clear, concise, business like fashion. However, it was still in a threatening manner. One that demanded authority, attention, respect.... Fear. "Yes, ... Uhem... Yes Mr.Fisk." The distorted voice said sheepishly, his fear evident even through a conference call. Smiling, Wilson continued with their conversation. "Now, it was an unfortunate fate, Dr Garret simply refused to see reason. And paid the price for insulting the integrity of my personal character. However this is not a set back." Wilson said in a matter of fact way. Standing from his chair, he turned to peer out his window. The city of new york, beautiful from the heights of his office. "Yes, and of this girl...Will she be-" "Yes, she is being disposed of as we speak. I hired suitable assassin... Ive paid witness to the insufferable merc before. A lot of it proving his unreliability... However, I have also seen much of his skill, further he is quite natural at playing the stoog. I ensure you, with him nothing will come back on us. In any event, he will get the job done. And, in the highly unlikely event that whoever she works for kills my assassin, I have the price on her head currently going carefully through the grape vine. It will be a honest shock if any mercenary in the country doesn't hear of it." The sinister voice from the call hums slightly to himself. Thinking carefully before he questioned his business partner. "Why is it so unlikely?" the voice asked. "Well, he can heal from any wound." A gasped croak came from the other end, perhaps choking on his drink? "Ack... Ack...What the hell! Dont tell me you hired Deadpool?" Almost worried, Wilson turned from his spot to face the phone on his desk. "Yes, he is not the most qualified. But as I stated he lacks any knowledge of us or our plans. All he knows is a target, a phone, and a drop off point. Further he is a ignoramus, a perfect stooge... Why, have you heard of him?" The voice on the other end sounded almost to be in undeniable rage. "H-Heard of him! He is the biggest oaf in the entire worl- no universe! A laughing stock. He has thwarted me with the X men numerous times! A mercenary he may be, but he is a failure as one. Playing hero in the flip of a coin..... We must take care of this soon. Perhaps Deadpool will do his job, then again perhaps he wont. This makes him a Liability. He will turn on you, for nothing more then the assumption that she will repay him sexually."

With a sigh, Fisk walks back over to his desk. "I will try and trust your judgement. My own man will personally see to it that she dies. I would rather this have been done quietly, but it would seem im left with little choice. Just know, never speak of me with such irreverence again." Before the voice can respond, Fisk's fist slam's against the phone. Crushing it under his own outrage. Speaking in anger, Fisk called out to the man who lurked in the shadows of his office. "The fool will soon outlast his usefulness Bull's Eye... And when he does, see to it he is dead." Walking from the shadows, Bull's Eye juggled a dart between his fingers. "Id enjoy that... How about this situation with Deadpool? To be honest, he wont die but id be happy pinning him to a wall. Maybe make him watch me gut her. Guys a prick, be fun to watch'em squirm." The kingpin rubbed his hand along his bald head. "Yes, go, but dont play any games. Just get around Deadpool and kill her...."

 

[Temptationist]

My face was plastered on a billboard nearly every second street on New York City. As the latest playboy hit and first model to keep her clothes on for their social media campaign, I was a growing success. From swimsuit and underwear modeling to a giant poster of me in lingerie - I was everywhere. Even on the side building of a grocery store, advertising a beach clothing company, conveniently eating fresh fruit. It was enough media spotlight to catch the attention of a very wealthy man, Wilson Fisk.

“My, my.” Fisk looked over my body and my face with absolutely no transparency. It was a look I was all too used to. Even the most devoted and loyal of husbands always seemed to comment one way or another on my appearance. My eyes were undeniably noticeable. That was something I grew to accept and embrace in my modelling career. “A leading supermodel, indeed. A vision.” He smiled, trying to charm his way into my mind as we unfolded his arm to gesture me to sit at the table before him. We were in a high status restaurant – and the place was empty; like Fisk has rented the whole place out. My agent seemed confident in Fisk's intentions, and offered me a meeting one on one with Fisk to discuss the contract. However, this was more of a one on one PLUS a dozen body guards. I wondered why a man needed so much protection.

“Thank you.” I smiled lightly. Although I was nervous, the smile remained genuine. I was just as good of an actress as I was a model – so no matter my anxiety in the moment, I appeared calm and collected. “My agent, Luis Cortez, he sent me here... on such short notice. Told me you wanted to meet in person. It appears I am grossly under-dressed.” My eyes gazed around the restaurant. I was simply dressed in casual but stylish ripped jeans and a warm turtle neck sweater. Although I always wore heels, this was very much a 'night out shopping' sort of look. “Was there something wrong with the contract?”

There was silence as Fisk stared at me, with nothing but a nauseating smile. “... No. Contract is fine.” He finally admitted. “I'm a big fan of yours. I have to admit, I couldn't wait until the night of the Gala to meet you.” I stared at him, pretending to be content, although I was suspicious. There seemed to be an eerie feel in the air and I couldn't help but feel like the eyes of the body guards were burning into the back of my head. “Maya Myers.” Fisk rolled my name off of his tongue. “It's got a nice ring to it.”

“Yes,” I smile, chuckling softly. “My parents thought so too.” Trying to be cheeky, I received no reaction from Fisk except for a dead-pan stare.

At the snap of his fingers, a waiter came over with a covered tray. The waiter placed the plate on the table before us and then lifted the lid to reveal an assortment of foreign sweets. My eyes widened slightly at the sight of the mound of Turkish Delights on the plate. This, surely, was not a Turkish restaurant. And in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, I wondered where the hell did Fisk get his hands on that. He smiled bigger at the look in my eyes. The look of growing fear. “Rahat lokum.” He said, “Also know as Turkish Delights in more western terms.”

“I did not realize there was a Turkish bakery in Hell's Kitchen.” I smiled, trying to keep it together in front of a potentially dangerous man. “I have to admit, as much as I love international foods, I have never tried a Turkish Delight.”

He chuckled quietly, almost sadistically at me as I said that. “Are you sure about that?” Becoming visibly tense, I moved my jaw slightly to the side, trying to interpret this scenario. “Because, uhm...” He leaned forward slowly, “Your mother had a lot to say about you, Roya Yilmaz.” At this moment, all eyes were on me. I glared at Fisk like he was the scum of the earth in this moment.

“My mother is dead.” I rose from my seat, visibly insulted. “So unless you're clairvoyant who can communicate beyond the grave, our business here is done.”

Fisk rose right after me, challenging my demeanour with his massive frame. “You're lying.” Fisk tried to interrupt, but I wasn't having it. “Sit down.” Fisk grunted through his teeth. But at this point, I wasn't intimated any longer.

“I changed my name to Maya Myers. Ever heard of a stage name?” I turned to his guards, giving them the stink eye. “Tell your boys to save their ammo. I'm a Turkish immigrant, not a god damn terrorist.” In that moment, looking into his stale eyes, I saw a vivid vision; a prediction of the future. My pupils dilated completed as I saw a horrific scene unfold in my mind. Fisk wasn't some hot shot politician and business man, he was a cold blooded killer.

Fisk suddenly changed his behaviour. “I have insulted you.” He looked at me now like a puppy with his tail between his legs. “It appears I have made a mistake.”

I reverted back to reality as if I had seen nothing. Externally, I appeared to be a hot-headed model. But internally, I was panicking. “If you have any other requests, you can go through my agent.” I stormed for the door, passing the body guards without a single care for what they might do. With my back to him, put in the last word. “Enjoy your Turkish Delights.” I scoffed, evidently mocking him as I pushed open the resto door and stormed out. The moment I exited the restaurant, pulled my phone to my ear. "Misyon tehlikeye." I mumbled in another language before quickly hanging up.

I gunned it for the nearest taxi, not bothering to even look over my shoulder. I melted into the seat, the sudden urge to vomit hitting hard. "W-wait!" I opened the door back again before the taxi could drive off. Leaning out the door, I heaved the contents of my stomach on the sidewalk. Sliding back into the back of the taxi, I took a breath and rolled my head to the back of the seat. "Food poisoning." I falsely pretended as the taxi driver looked at me suspiciously. "48th Street, please."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

"Shit!" I yelled out under my breath, speaking to no one but myself in my small, but lavish, New York apartment. I curled over my bathroom counter, with both hands on either side of the sink as I looked up into the mirror. I stared deeply into my own heterochromic eyes for a second as I frowned. Slamming my hand suddenly onto the ceramic edge, I yelled it again. "Bok, bok, bok!" I repeated, except in Turkish, and not English. My cover had almost been blown with Fisk - and if he was able to dig up information about my real identity, it meant that many other bad people could, too. I not only hated myself for agreeing to model for this notorious man, but also, for following my conscious all the way to his office. Now, not only was I dealing with the devil, but I was meddling with his violent secrets, too. He was on to me, and even worse, I was on to him. With a the memory of the murder of Doctor Garret fresh in my mind, this was no longer a vision of the potential future, it was a real live event. 'I should have never gone to his office' I thought to myself, having just witnessed Fisk pummel the medical experts head until it was just play-dough in Fisk's hands. I felt sick just thinking about it. Now, I was involved. REALLY involved - and if I didn't find all the dirt I could possible dig up on Fisk, soon I would be in bigger trouble than I already was. I had to out-hunt the hunter - and that was going to be nearly impossible without turning to my secret Turkish resources. I had come to America to escape my past - but now I realized, I had just traded one hell for another.

Taking a deep breath, I ran my fingers into my hair over my head and exited the bathroom. I was dressed in nothing but a white bra and matching lace panties. I had just showered after returning from Fisks office with a mindful of blood and gore, a queasy stomach, and enough drama and stress to last me a lifetime. Trying to unwind, I wandered into my living room, where I turned on the tv and stood before it; dangling the remote from my fingers. I turned on the news, which seemed to only feature two things - growing ISIS terrorism movement and of course, Wilson Fisk and his leading politics. I sighed, frustrated with the though of him. I tossed the remote onto my couch and was about to head to the kitchen when suddenly...

My big window exploded beside me, sending a wave of glass all over me and my living room floor. I fell to the ground in sheer reaction to the startling bang. Having placed my hand over my face to protect me from flying shards, I slowly lowered it, my breathing heavy as I opened my eyes to face the culprit. There I saw a face I recognized all too easily. It was the red and black figure and mask of Deadpool - one of the most feared mercenaries in the country. My stomach sank as my eyes widened.

I barely had a moment to vocally react before you were already rambling about the decor in my apartment. In a compromising position, upright sitting on the ground, I grew more and more confused the more you spoke. "W-what?" I said softly, trying to figure out if you were being genuine or just pulling my leg. "Unicorns...?" I mumbled, but the thought was just passing as I was suddenly being asked how I was. "Uh..." I stammered, taken aback from the strange display. Before I could register an answer, only two words chimed loudly in my mind. Shut up. Although the silence was not intended for me, it appeared that way in my perspective. Instantly snapping, I growled back at you, "Hey! If you just gave me a second to fit a word in-" But you were still going. Rambling now even more, but less confidently, more nervously. I arched my eyebrow, leaning back slightly as I slithered my hand discreetly underneath my couch. The moment I heard "assassin" I was ready to reach for my gun and shoot you straight in the head. "I know who you are." I smirked, not at all impressed with this first conversation. "What do you want from me?" I mumbled but instantly received my response. "Do me!?" Now... now I was REALLY pissed. Pulling the gun from the couch, I stealthily rose from the ground and had the 9mm pointed right at your forehead. With only a few feet distance between us, I lowered my brows and grimaced.

With a final moment to answer your question, I hissed. "Just a loaded 9 millimeter and a bad temper." Taking a step back, I held the gun with the utmost confidence. "Get out!"