Upon finding herself sitting upon the ground, the young women laughed. She laughed as venomous words were spat at her at such a volume any lesser being would cower in fear. But the redhead felt no fear, even as the thin man roared and raved. She did not flinch as broken glass filled the room and the wisps of wind curled through her hair. She laughed for no fear resided in her tricky little heart for its blackened crust let no dark emotions break though, only laughter and seductive smiles were there to show. At Victus’ threatening command her laughter died down to chuckles then subsided to an unthreatened smirk.
She stood, approaching him with slow deliberate steps. “My reach extends just as far and further then your little fingers’ grip. My reach is intertwined with yours. In every heart of your precious army and your precious worlds lies my most hardened grip. Every armada and soldier in your control is mine to hold. I can walk through your ranks and only your gun would turn on me.” She slipped into a grin, crazed and ecstatic. “You want me to be witty? Try this on for size.” The whore slipped around his gun and pressed against his chest. “You will never find me unless I allow myself to be found. When you see my shadow cross yours as you walk home, you better worry what I have waiting for you at home. And when you find me sitting on your desk swinging handcuffs around my finger, asking you to tie me up and drag me away, you better worry.” Wind whipped red tendrils into her face, catching on her eyelashes and sticking to her twisted red lips. “You’re never going to find me. Never.” She lifted herself onto her toes, lips just inches from his ear. “Unless I want you to find me.” With a giggle, she pulled back swiftly, landing a perfect little kiss on his clean shaven cheek. She backed away toward the window, fiery locks flowing in the wind as she observed the bright red lipstick kiss she had left on the inquisitors cheek. The seductress smiled, “I hope that burns.”
And the red lipstick on his cheek did begin to burn. Poison. Victus should have expected that. In fact, he did expect that.
“You bitch.” he reached up and grabbed his cheek, but the sights of his gun never left the mark between her eyes. “Nice try. I’ve had worse, but this should be a nice reminder to why I won’t let you live.” His grip tightened around the metal handle. He began to slowly squeeze the trigger as the burning sensation started increasing.
“What the he-?” a searing pain appeared in his cheek, forcing him down to one knee as steam started emanating from the lipstick. It felt as if he was being branded. The handgun fell out of his hands and onto the floor as he rammed his fist into the ground, trying to take his mind away from the pain. The carpet ripped and the concrete below it began to crumble under the force. Victus felt as if he had been shot as the room’s colors seemed much brighter. He closed his eyes and groaned, focusing on suppressing the intense pain. He pushed himself up from one knee and grabbed the gun, letting go of his hand on the cheek, fire in his eyes, a death-stare locked onto the woman. He checked his reflection in the gleaming silver light of the gun. There was a burn-scar on his cheek, clearly visible, his skin still pink and tender from the poisonous kiss. His gaze went back up to her.
“I swear to the Twins, I will not you let you live. I will make it my job to kill you. Slowly, painfully, after a Class-O Interrogation. You will not survive.” He hissed at her, teeth still gritting as the pain began to subside. She was going to escape him in this encounter, without a doubt, but next time…
Now where the hell is my backup?