Merciless [Overwatch; strangling; non-con]

Hm, whoever might that be? The loud knock on the door made Angela pause and look up. She'd just been about to get changed and then go to bed, so right now she was only wearing underwear; but at this time of day, even if it was one of her colleagues from the conference she was attending this weekend, it'd hardly be for professional reasons. So after a moment's deliberation she didn't bother getting dressed again and just headed for the door, after all the human body was something beautiful, not to hide or be ashamed of.

And besides, while the former in particular was a little fancy and lacy, her pure white bra and panties were conservative enough, not revealing any more than any underwear did. So worst case her guest would be awkward or offended and she'd just quickly throw over her jacket hanging beside the door, but best case her state of (un)dress would serve to break the ice, perhaps allowing for a much more …enjoyable night for both of them. “Yes, what-”

However the person waiting for her at the door was one of the last Angela would have expected, and she most definitely was not after a romantic evening. “…Amélie?”

“Bonjour, Angela.” Amélie's …no, Widowmaker's lips twisted into a cruel smirk and just a split second later she jabbed forward with her hand, slamming her palm against Angela's sternum before she had any time to even make sense of the situation, sending her stumbling backwards, gasping for breath as Widowmaker swiftly entered the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Clutching her chest and trying to steady her breathing, Angela held her other hand in front of her defensively. “Wh-what are you…” Even though she was smart enough to guess at the obvious answer.

“You are becoming a liability for Talon.” The violet-skinned taller woman – the height difference only emphasised by her heeled boots – seemed to swiftly look over the small hotel room Angela was staying in as she impassively answered. “So they sent me to make use of this opportunity to eliminate you. Simple, non?”

Even if she'd been expecting it, hearing those words in the voice of her former friend still deeply stung Angela. …But this was not the time. Her mind racing, she searched for a way out, ideally one without any bloodshed. However that most likely wouldn't be an option. There was no reasoning with Amé- Widowmaker, her Caduceus was recharging in its station across the room, but neither it nor the Valkyrie suit would do her much good now, there was no way Angela would be able to stand up against Widowmaker in hand-to-hand combat, so that only left her sidearm, that she'd only taken at the insistence of several Overwatch members, hidden under her pillow. Those two steps might as well have been kilometres, but it looked like this still was her best, possibly only, course of action to-

“Don't even think about it.” However apparently Angela's train of thought had been obvious, or the assassin had just run out of patience, as all of a sudden Widowmaker turned and in a fluid motion kicked, slamming her foot into Angela's stomach with enough force to take her breath away and send her crashing backwards into the chair in front of her desk, slumping onto it in a – more or less – sitting position.

Reflexively trying to gasp for air as her lungs seized up from the impact, Angela struggled to get up again, noting a small trickle of blood on her stomach where the thin heel of Widowmaker's boot had broken her skin, but before she could make any real effort to stand up, Widowmaker's knee pressed against her crotch held her down as the woman pushed her back into the chair, leaning close enough that Angela could feel her – atypically cold – breath against her cheek.

“C'est inutile.” Where Amélie had used to wear a lovely lilac perfume, Widowmaker only faintly smelled of her suit's latex, and a trace of some bitter, medicinal scent, and the touch of her cold hands against Angela's bare skin made the medic shudder as she tried to squirm away, but couldn't. “You always were a healer, not a fighter, mon ange.” Hearing that old affectionate nickname in the woman's new, emotionless, voice made Angela surge, trying to push her off her with both arms, but Widowmaker bent and twisted her upped body to the side just enough that most of Angela's force was wasted, before in turn ramming a fist into her stomach yet again, the strike pulling away her bra in just the way to reveal part of her left breast, but that little wardrobe malfunction was the absolute least of either woman's concern right now.

Swiftly getting up to stand behind the chair while Angela was still incapacitated, clutching her chest and struggling to breathe once more, Widowmaker opened the grappling hook she was wearing on her left arm, pulling out a length of the wire and wrapping the ends around each of her hands several times to hold it in steady – before wrapping the rope around Angela's neck and pulling it tight.

Still trying to catch herself, Angela was completely defenceless, her already ragged breath cutting off into voiceless gasps as Widowmaker started strangling her, reflexively reaching for the thin wire painfully digging into her neck, but of course failing to grasp it, and Widowmaker let out a dark chuckle in response. Angela knew enough about strangulation trauma, even if she'd thankfully rarely had to deal with it, to tell that she had a few minutes at best, so she had to think of something, quick.

Given the position they were in, there was no way Angela would overpower Widowmaker and break away, and even if she could, what was much more likely to give way first was her throat, and with a crushed larynx she wouldn't get very far, so that was not an option. Instead, trying to force down her body's panic reaction and instinctive shudders, Angela waited for a brief moment to gauge Widowmaker's position behind her, before suddenly lashing out with her fist, painfully clipping the metal of her arachnoid visor with her knuckles, but not landing enough of a hit for Widowmaker to even budge.

If anything, the woman strengthened her grip, pulling further back until the pressure on her neck forced Angela to tilt her head backwards, laying on top of the chair's headrest and looking at the ceiling. Her position only worsened by her efforts, the medic panickedly searched for some way to either call for help or free herself, but nothing was within reach of her frantically grasping hands or flailing feet. Before long the pain in her neck, that had quickly been spreading to her head and lungs as well, made Angela tear up as she gave in to her reflexes to ineffectually gasp for air and pointlessly claw at the rope around her throat, if anything serving to leave bloody scratch marks on her skin instead.

“I always admired your determination, tu sais?” Widowmaker's mocking voice sounded dull and muffled to Angela, and her vision was beginning to fade around the edges, colourful dark spots seeming to grow on the plain white ceiling above her. “But it's futile. Just give in, ange.” Through the haze filling her mind and the pain flooding her whole body by this point, Angela grit her teeth, struggling and trying to break free with all of her strength, in pure defiance of her would-be-killer, but still to no avail, if anything, all she achieved was the wire cutting into her throat even deeper as Widowmaker let out another cruel chuckle.

Crying, gasping and shuddering in agony, barely aware of her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth, dripping bits of drool down her chin, Angela knew that her body's struggle were mostly instinct by now, the realisation slowly setting in that, yes, she was going to die here if something didn't happen very soon. Yet as they said, hope died last, so even as her body continued its futile struggles for multiple more minutes, though slowly losing in strength, Angela hung on as long as she could, refusing to give in until the darkness that had been steadily clouding her vision and mind finally was too much, and she all but went limp with one final sigh, a bit of urine staining the front of her panties, as the darkness finally swept over her, taking away the pain and everything

Noticing how Angela went limp with one last gasp, her eyes rolling back and her body only weakly shuddering for a few seconds longer, Widowmaker nonetheless kept up her grip around the woman's throat for a few minutes longer to be entirely sure before finally letting go, returning the wire to her grappling gun. It was done. Deep down a small part of her felt something that might have been regret, but she pushed it aside; Angela had known the risks well enough, yet returned to Overwatch anyways, she'd made her choice.

Leaning closer to the body, Widowmaker took a few moments to inspect her handiwork, slowly tracing a finger along the side of Angela's neck, over the thin but deep dark red marks of the wire, her skin above them noticeably warmer to the touch and darkened in an almost purple hue, as was her face, her expression frozen in fear and agony, broken eyes gazing past the ceiling and her makeup smudged with tears and drool.

“A pity it had to end like this. Adieu, mon ange.” Brushing a hand over the medic's eyes to close them, Widowmaker tore her gaze away from Angela's body, quickly looking over the room to pick up the Caduceus staff and the case holding the Valkyrie suit, before radioing for a pickup, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. And if this was just the beginning, who knew, maybe she'd get to meet some more old 'friends' soon…