Mischief Is Her Game

Crimson eyes gazed down at the police as they scrambled to keep up with the group of criminals that she had let loose with the key she'd stolen. Resting her arms on the railing, she smirked and let out a soft giggle under her breath. “Idiots...” She murmured with satisfaction, happy to see her plan had worked very well.

Kyra Bein Lunavein was a mutant often nicknamed The Necromancer. She stood at four feet eleven inches and was a petite little thing that hid all her curves beneath baggy cargo pants, shirts and jackets. Her skin was pale and her long dreads fell down in a white snowy path bleeding into a crimson that matched her eyes. Heavy black combat boots tapped at the concrete walkway she stood on as she watched.

Controlling the bones of a few dead rats had worked perfectly. She'd had them sneak around and snatch the keys right off the guard. They'd gone to the cells and unlocked each and every single one of them.

Lovely.

A beeping caught her attention and she pushed off the railing. Wiping a small bit of black colored blood off her upper lip, she pulled out her cellphone and flipped it open. Tapping a few buttons she found the text from Lydia and tilted her head. “Huh, this should be fun.”

Putting the phone away, she ran along the walkway and rushed off into the city. Hopping two steps at a time, she made it to the sidewalk quickly and rushed past old broken down cars and chaos that seemed to always happen around this place.

It was the slums of this town – a place she could blend into easily – and she was able to traverse it very well. Taking an alleyway, she jumped and smacked a sign on her way by a door and took the turn at the end, making her way toward the area she knew Lydia was waiting to meet up.