Scarlet smiled. It feels so good out here. She thought happily. As she crept around the 33rd floor of the highrise, she smiled. Bag slung over her shoulder, she decided to board the elevator to flaunt her success.

Silently, Scarlet left her “donation” at the backdoor.

Seven new messages. The machine warned. She rolled her eyes. Scarlet? Where are you? Everytime I stop by… Charlie’s voice began. She pressed a button. Message deleted. Instead of listening to the other pleas for her to come out in public, Scarlet planned her next move. She held up pictures to what was left of the daylight. “You’ve been getting cocky. It’s time I paid you another visit.” Scarlet pointed to a picture of an art museum. A shadow passed through the room. “Charlie?” She asked.
“Yeah?” He was still in his hero costume. “Actually, I’m still on duty, so I’m ‘Spike’. What’s that?” He grabbed the picture from between her fingers and examined it. “I was under the impression you had stopped all this.”
“Why should I?”