𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 ━━ 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐙𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐳

e i g h t

"Now, I bet you're all wondering why I've gathered you here today." Soren smiled at the group of people in front of her. Six of Torres' semi-important lackeys laid bound and gagged on the cold cement floor.

"You see, the thing is" Soren twirled a dagger in her hand, her index finger pressed lightly on the point, "Torres has really been getting on my nerves lately, but it wouldn't be an appropriate time for me to kill him. Which, unfortunately for you, means I'll be taking out my frustrations on all of you."

Several of them men mumbled and shook their heads, while one even tried to scream.

"Oh, don't bother screaming darling, no one will hear you."

And they wouldn't. Soren had picked an old abandoned building on the edge of the city and ensured no one would disrupt her play session.

Soren kneeled down to one of the men and began carving cuts into his skin. She carved symbols and letters, some of which she didn't recognize. Her eyebrows furrowed as her mind wandered.

Truthfully, she knew torturing those men would only temporarily satiate her growing hunger for blood. As each day passed, she became more and more unsatisfied with her current position as Torres errand girl and longed to kill.

Leave it to him to under appreciate one of his most important assets.

Soren's eyes wandered over to a pile of junk, rats scurrying around and under it, and an idea clicked in her brain. Withdrawing the blade from the older red headed man bound and gagged in front of her, she smirked.

She stood and stretched her arms above her head before sauntering over to the pile. She grabbed a metal bucket and plucked a rat up by the tail, dropping it into the bucket.

"Lucky for us, I remembered to bring my favourite tools." Soren took a blow torch from a nearby shelf and returned to the group of men. "Now, who wants to go first? Eeny, meeny..." She trailed off, her finger landing on one of the younger of Torres' men, who she recalled had pissed her off on multiple occasions.

Soren approached the brunette man—whose name she vaguely remembered being Alex—and got on her on knees, straddling his hips as she placed the things in her hands down next to her.

Alex attempted to speak, his words muffled by the cloth gag around his mouth. Soren smiled falsely and removed the gag. "What was that?"

"Get off me, you psycho bitch." He spat, a mix of fear and anger in his voice.

"Oh, honey," Soren chuckled, bringing the dagger to his mouth and running the blade lightly across his lips. She leaned closer and whispered. "You ain't seen psycho yet."

She traced the blade down the contour of his neck to the hem of his shirt and paused for a short moment, before hooking the fabric with the blade and slashing down, tearing the shirt from his chest.

"Such a pretty body." Soren absentmindedly trailed the blade across his chest and abs, down to the waist band of his pants. "A shame it belongs to you."

Alex shifted against her weight, lifting his head to look up at her. "Get fucked."

"You can pretend you don't like it, baby," She dropped the dagger on the cement. "but your eyes, and your body, tell me different." She motioned to the area below his waistband.

He sighed and dropped his head back.

Soren reached for the metal bucket next to her, picking the rat up and placing it on Alex's chest. She covered the rat with the bucket and replaced the man's gag.

"Do you know what happens when you subjugate a rat in this situation to extreme heat?" She lit the blowtorch and brought it to the top of the upside down bucket. "They panic."

Soren basked in the muffled screams of the terrified man, the euphoria of torture, and the squeaks of the panicking rat as it dug into Alex's skin, attempting to dig away from the heat.

A creaking noise near the entrance snapped Soren from her own personal form of heaven and she dropped the blow torch in favour of her dagger as she crept toward the door, sticking to the shadows.

She situated herself in a particularly dark shadowed area and waited for the intruder to step through the heavy iron door. When they did , she rushed them, slamming their body against the wall with her own and pushing her dagger against their throat.

After she was content she had control over the situation, she realized it was none other than Victor Zsasz who had barged in on her. "What do you want?" She asked, her dagger not moving from its spot against his throat.

"We need to talk." Victor said, glancing curiously at the group of men in the middle of the large building.

"I'm busy." Soren dropped her dagger from its position and took a step back.

"Honestly, it's sort of urgent." Zsasz stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and stepped away from the wall.

"It can wait." Soren turned and glared at Victor. "Unless, of course, you want to take their place."

"Well, while some of it does look like a fun time, other parts, not so much." He gestured to Alex squirming on the floor, the bucket now toppled over and the rat gone, but the pain still there.

Soren contemplated for a moment, glancing between Victor and her little playthings across the room, she shrugged. "Fine. I'll bite."

"Okay, let's-"

"On one condition." Soren cut him off, smirking. She paced slowly in front of him, waving her dagger around. "You agree that you owe me. Whatever I want, whenever I decide to cash in, you have to do it."

Victor looked her up and down, mirroring her smirk. "Deal."

"Perfect." Soren smiled, looking him in the eyes. "Let me just handle them then."

Without moving from where she stood or breaking eye contact, Soren hurled her dagger behind her and into the throat of one of the bound men, followed by five more, leaving Alex till last.

Victor clenched his fists in his pockets, his pants suddenly feeling tighter. He watched intently as Soren strolled over to the men bleeding out on the floor, retrieving her daggers and anything else that could link her to the murders.

He watched the way her hips swayed, the way her fingers grasped the blades, the slight upturn of her lips each time she glanced at her victims. He watched as she pulled out an ordinary pistol he hadn't seen her use before, and he watched as she shot each of them once between the eyes, and twice in the heart.

Zsasz didn't know what it was, but something about watching her work seemed mesmerizing. Or maybe it was horrifying, like watching a train-wreck, you just can't pull your eyes away.

"So," Soren approached Zsasz once again, shaking him from his trance like state, "what was it you need?"

"More of a warning, on behalf of Falcone." Victor fell in stride with Soren as they left the abandoned building. "Torres is being investigated by the GCPD for a multitude of crimes, apparently they have proof. Someone snitched, and he thinks it was you. He's going to try to kill you."