Wasn't worth it

Things were tense. No one knew what was going to happen and everyone just wanted to get out of here alive. Rich had just barely managed to force himself to keep his gun still as it lay aim upon the crowd not ten feet ahead of him. His companions were currently ransacking the place for whatever jewels and other shiny objects they could find, clearly not being discriminate about what or how much they shoved into their duffel bags. He'd have to remind himself later not to bother listening to any of his criminal associates plans for a 'big score', without first making sure it wasn't just another jewelry store robbery of all things. Sure this place was pretty damn large, but if he wanted to rob a friggin' jewelry store, he could have done it back up in Chicago. A nervous sweat was building underneath the uncomfortable black mask he wore. He really hated these things, but for men like him they were pretty much standard gear, much like crowbars and handguns. Speaking of handguns, why was it that Rich was armed with this pathetic little nine millimeter peashooter while his compatriots were waving around a semi-automatic rifle and 12-gauge? More importantly, why was it that he, who had the smallest, least intimidating and least impressive weapon, was shifted into having to watch the irrational and scared group of bystanders? His eyes scanned over the bunch, trying to see which of them might try to cause trouble. The store's manager was out for the count, his injured head being cradled by a woman in the crowd. The idiot tried to stand up to them and got a free concussion for his troubles, courtesy of a semi-automatic rifle's stock bashing his skull in. The rest of them seemed fairly compliant, hopefully understanding that given the circumstances, Rich and the other two with him were very willing to use lethal force.

Rich was just praying the others were nearly finished so they could get the hell out of there, but there was no such luck. "Come on, the best stuff's always in the back!" Rich groaned audibly, why couldn't he just be happy with what they already had so they could clear scene before police showed up to take it all back? "There's enough out here, now hurry up so we can get out of here!" Ah, music to his ears. There was bound to have been a silent alarm and most likely a call from someone nearby considering all the racket they were making, so the faster they finished up, the better. "Police! Hands where I can see them!" Crap. A, not out of shape, yet not physically impressive police officer stood at the entrance to the store with a standard issue pistol at the ready. However, to the poor man's folly, he failed to take note of just how serious the situation was and just how outnumbered, outgunned and in the open he was. When Rich's shotgun wielding accomplice turned to face the officer, he was unfortunate enough for the scared man to have opened fire immediately after noticing his firearm. The bullet tore through his arm like cardboard and the shotgun fell to the floor, blasting off a slug into one of the few remaining display cases. Unlike him, the other accomplice wasn't caught unawares and took the chance to unload several rounds into the cop's chest. The officer of the law went down without so much as a whimper as his body crumpled onto the ground. In any other situation Rich would have started to freak out, what with the wounded associate, dead cop and ticking clock, but with the crowd starting to lose it he had to keep on his toes. If someone were to play the hero, it would likely end with him being stampeded by the whole group in a wild panic, or more time and bullets being used up trying to take any would-be-heroes down.

During this whole fiasco a girl with her hood drawn up crept behind the dunclike trio. Nobody knew her or what she was, an enigma, they called her. Anya had been in the bathroom, she had been scoping out the place for robbing later. The jewelry story had been high on her list and the girl thought herself in need of a new necklace. But unfortunately, the one she had taken a liking to had been snagged by the thugs. Now, she wanted it. Killing bothered her, which was an odd trait in a supervillain. She did have her own basic rules, taking a life happened to be against them. She grabbed one of the thugs closest to her by the back of his sweatshirt and chucked him into the wall. The smaller of the three was farthest away, the second guy turned and his eyes watched as the first flipped over the jewelry table before slamming into the wall. Frantic the guy aimed his gun at her. Anya fixed her dark blue grey eyes on the gun, it started to steam and the guy dropped it, yelping and blowing on his fingers in a desperate attempt to cool them. Anya chucked that guy out the window, not before she took the bag of jewelry.
Her eyes landed on the smallest and least intimidating of the group. Ironically, he had been put in charge of crowd control, who in turn looked ready to bolt.
"Boo," SHe said and the people ran fleeing out of the doors, completely oblivious to the gunman. She turned her eyes on him, the a thousand year old creature with sapphire colored eyes. Almost instantly the gun began to heat up in his hand.
"That was a very stupid idea, you really should check the bathrooms before you take people hostage," Her tone was quiet and conversational. She appeared weaponless, in reality she was anything but. She opened the bag, not paying attention to the man. She pulled out a few things she liked. The necklace, a single diamond pendant swung back and forth with veins of silver and gold, simple stud earrings, along with a ring.
"Here," She handed him back the bag, fastening the necklace and sliding on the ring. "I generally only take what I want."

Richard's stare down with the crowd was cut short when he was startled by violent sounds behind him. He turned sharply and, to the horror, saw a hooded woman making short work of his accomplice. Inside, Rich started swearing up a storm. Oh dear holy hell did he hate superhumans, but more than that, he feared them. No matter what side they were on, superhumans were a nightmare for pretty much any working class thug like him. They were either the hero that knocked them on their asses, or the villain that killed them, because they could. From the motionless body laying crumpled against the wall it was clear she'd already taken care of the other guy, so that left him. Preparing to shoot the girl, this short sighted plan was put to rest when the woman uttered one word. "Boo." and all bets were off for the hostages behind him. Rushing past him, he was rather unceremoniously shoved by one or two of those running for the exit. On the verge of attempting to take a shot again, he was once more halted.

An inexplicable heat sourced from the weapon in his hand, quickly scorching his hand even through the glove. With a scream of agony, his hand released its hold and the gun fell harmlessly to the floor. Hastily clutching at his wrist in an instinctive reaction, he looked at his hand in slight shock. Sure he'd seen her do it to the other guy, but it still scared the hell out of him. Had he been in a more calm state of mind, he might have been able to appreciate the woman's rather helpful, if pretty obvious, advice. After a moment, his attention was brought back to the woman who was actually handing him the bag of jewels. Granted she'd already taken some of the nicer stuff out of it and was indeed wearing the items, this simple action had him left speechless. What kind of criminal interrupted another's heist, took two of them down, stole some jewelry for themselves and gave back the rest? A superhuman one apparently. Go figure that the ones with the weird powers were the ones with a sense of 'honor among thieves'. He'd have laughed at the absurdity of it all had he not been afraid of drawing her wrath.

With some degree of uncertainty, he reached out and took the bag for himself. Zipping it closed, he let the bag hang over his shoulder. His eyes refused to leave the woman for a few moments, not trusting to turn his back to her. Like a rat given cheese, Rich eyed her warily, trying to discern if she was a threat. Well, obviously she was a threat. She was a superhuman with obviously no reservations on beating down common thugs like him. Still, it didn't really make sense for her to start attacking him out of the blue now, since she'd already taken what she'd wanted. Accepting this, Rich finally turned away from the woman and went on to deal with the other problem at hand. He approached the downed body of his comrade, picking up the shotgun laying on the ground along the way, and crouched down. Looking the man over, Rich could tell he wasn't going to be moving around on his own anytime soon. A shame. Barely clinging to consciousness he wearily opened his eyes and looked back at him. "Hey..Dick, what the hell ju-" He never got to finish his final words as his head was promptly turned to pulp under the near point blank blast from the barrel of his own shotgun.

Standing up straight, Rich looked down at the corpse. He pushed the pang of guilt he felt over the act into the recesses of his mind, while he didn't feel good about it, the guy had to die. The man would have ratted Richard out in a second to save himself a few years in the slammer. His eyes trailed to the still figure of his remaining partner just outside the store. Hopefully he would be in better shape than the other guy, but if he wasn't then it wouldn't be any skin off his nose.

During this whole exchange Anya's eyes never left the man's face, he look of fear was clearly displayed on his face. He was trying to decide what she was. The diamond sparkled in the hollow of her throat and the ring sparkled on her pale skinned hand. The man seemed to recover from his shock and he walked over to his friend, Anya assumed it was to help him. Then to her horror the man blasted the guy in the head at point blank with the gun. Blood spattered up the walls as well as brain matter and other flesh. It managed to splatter the entire length of the room and it hissed in the air around
"That was intelligent," It was evident by her tone that she was frowning. "Now when the law catches up to you, like it does to all mortals, you can be arrested for murder."
She hooked her thumbs around her belt loops, studying the man as he went about his business. He looked slightly sickened at the look of flesh and brains spilled all over the floors and walls. Served him right.
Anya's entire stance was wrong, probably due to the setting sun outside, it made her ansy. The fear of a mortal catching her transform into her actual form was paramount, in her early years mortals used to catch her all of the time and try to take her horn.
But by this time she had gotten smarter, she didn't do those stupid things anymore.

The distinct crunch of broken glass could be heard as Rich approached the side of his wounded ally, the shattered remains of the window crackling under every step. The sky darkened and was taking an orange hue as the sun began to set. Crouching over and, not unlike he did the first guy, looked him over. Unlike the other guy though, he didn't look that banged up. Other than a few cuts and scrapes, he seemed healthy enough to walk on his own. Given he didn't end up having a severe concussion or something, they could still get out of here in time. Now to wake him up. A few light slaps to the face had him stirring, so at least Rich didn't end up having to scream at him to get him up. "You alive down there?" the recently unconscious man grumbled angrily in response. His eyes opened weakly and he struggled to get to his feet. With the hand Richard wasn't holding his gun with, he grabbed the man's shoulder and helped him up.

"Come on, time to leave." A slight nod of confirmation was all he gave in response. Stumbling a little, the man fought to regain his balance, whilst attempting to brush off the flakes of glass stuck to his face. Must have hit his head harder than he thought. Then his eyes caught the sight of the very woman who had just tossed him through the window. He snarled and screamed out "It's...that bitch!" before violently snatching the shotgun from Richard's hand. A quick re-pump of the weapon and he took a shot at the disguised mythical creature.

Salone followed behind the man, mainly out of curiosity, ignoring her internal alarm clock screaming at her to run, hide, and shift. The man she had chucked out the window was not as hurt as he could have been. Anya was impressed that he didn't break something. Then the guy started swearing and he fired at her. The girl ducked, but she wasn't fast enough. The bullet clipped her arm and a fiery pain lanced up it. Silvery blue blood dripped down her arm and the gun heated up in the shooter's hand. She darted forward, punched the guy in the face and then took the gun. The metal turned cherry red and she twisted the metal. Her droplets of blood landed on the metal and they sizzled and burned. Anya looked up at the guy, her eyes a cold blue.
"Tell me," She said in a dangerous tone. "Why shouldn't I kill you?" 
This is what people failed to understand, under her loving demeanor, she was truly evil. A old woman who would kill someone with a flick of her thoughts. The veins on her face seemed to glow from the pent up fire inside her. The entire jewelry store was silent except for the subtle drip...drip of her blood as it splattered on the hardwood floor. There were several ways to kill him... Slowly cooking him from the inside was appealing to her inner evil. Or she could kidnap him, roast him over a spit and leave him out for werewolves. Her mood swings were abrupt and sudden, making her even more dangerous.