| "Can it, John, before I snap your little neck!"
Her words were laced with venom as she hissed them at the John, the blow that followed soon after coming swiftly as the brass knuckles smashed into the side of his jawline, and sent his upper body falling from the chair. The smell of blood, just the sheer -sight- of it was enough to drive her mad with bringing more out of this particular male before her. Savage City managed to corrupt her in the worst ways possible. She loved to bring on the pain, which made her have fewer clientel than the other girls because of her domineering attitude, but at the same time the few clients she did have paid her damn good money to be rough with them. To draw the blood, and in return let them have their way with her. Entrance into her valley and nether regions. This guy, this bastard before her. He was no client, however. No, he was a spy. She knew he was a spy, and for him to think that he would leave Old Town alive was another story all together. Her body shook with volatile anger, where as his shook with fear. Fear of what was going to happen to him by the end of the night. Even now, as he sat in the chair, the dimly lit apartment was all the light that she needed to see as he tried to regather his composure. She'd had him tied and bound at the hands and ankles. By the hands, his wrists laced in tight handcuffs. By the ankles, that were laced with thick rope. Knotted so tightly that breaking free should have been the least bit of his concern, and begging and pleading should have been his main thoughts. Then again, men were stupid. They didn't comprehend as fast as women did, not an Old Town Dame at that.
Her name was Taz. Out of most of the Old Town Girls, she could possibly stand out as being the most violent. And in all reality, there wasn't a day that she woke up and didn't think about murdering someone just for the hell of it. The doctors blamed it on the speed that she did, and even now to this day there were a bottle of pills that she refused to take for the simple fact taht she liked her speed addiction. Taz was simply unhinged, amoral, and unstable. It's hard to know why - maybe it's caused by the ever popular 'chemical imbalance' or some torture in her younger days. Does it really matter? Suffice to say, she is off her rocker and has never been known to be anything else. Deadly with her knives, Taz undoubtedly has the talent and the skill to end a human life in one unseen stroke - but given her choice and the time, she'll draw it out until the screaming rips her victim's throat to shreds. As it was doing now. The mans cries touched her ears like a soft melody played on a harp, magical fingers gently gliding over each string while it brought forth several different sounds. This was her own kind of music, one might say. Taz was the conductor and she had every intention upon "conducting" physical pain. Taz allowed for her shoulders to rise and fall gradually, slowly as she stood before the male now. She moved to ease away from the John. She was having her bit of fun, awaiting the other girls as well. She was sure that Sage would have something to say about the matter at hand.
The weather outside was becoming horrendously ugly. Even now as a flash of lightning managed to dance through the sky, led by the thunder who created the electrical web of power to brighten the filthy streets of Savage. Lightning was about the only thing that could ever lighten the dark that shines so brightly as an overcast throughout the city. The pelting of rain went tap tap against her window pane, reminding her that this could have been the most fun for her, especially since sex with a client was at its best when thunderstorms managed to bring out the passion that these heartful Johns poured into her. The thoughts sent a jolt of anger coursing throughout her body, and she found her dark brown eyes immediately snapping onto the male before her. He was layden halfway on the ground, no way for him to get himself up. So she settled for reaching down and with a hard yank pulling the chair up with abit of ease that would have made one wonder where exactly did she get her strength from. She flexed her fingers a bit, splaying them too and fro, as she turned her head and searched the penthouse like apartment for anything. She was in the mood for a bit of torture. It was her game after all. Without gracing him with words, she turned and began to make her way towards a table that had a fdw items set out upon it. The one thing she had been going for had been the rather large lighter. She was a fire bug in a sense and she couldn't help it.. It was a weapon at its best and to some she could have even been a pyromaniac.
Maniacal being the keyword here.
"We're going to play a little game, pretty." She managed to utter, more or less outloud so that he could hear. Even now with her back to him, the sound of spiked heels upon her knee high leather boots did little to hinder the low, yet husky tone of her voice as she made her way towards the table at a gradual pace. "It'll be simple. You give me the information that I need to know, and I won't burn your alive. Could you ever imagine that -I- could do something so horrible? Invision this," She began as she turned to look at him, her fingers reaching forward to scoop up the lighter. <"The sound of your flesh sizzling with the firery sensation of -pain-! Hehehehe.." She looked at him now, dragging the black tip of the lighter along the supple flesh. "The feeling you'd have to endure if I skinned that same burning flesh from your bones and fed it to the SHARKS! How would the fucking DON LIKE THAT HUH!?" She shouted, as she closed the distance between herself and the John at a rather brisk face, her long legs finding a place on either side of him as she straddled his laps. Even with the duck tape over his mouth if he wanted to speak he wouldn't be able to. From the looks of it he seemed rather calm, smug almost, which she didn't like as he sat there -- bound in his rags that were in near shreds from where she had cut him. They were somewhat blood sucked from the cuts he'd had, she doing no real damage -- only minor.. but they were there no less. The grin that danced along the corner of her lips was savage.
She'd moved to drag the tip of the lighter along his face gently, slowly, "So smug... lets see if we can't change that." She'd left the door cracked for the other girls to enter. She wanted them to hear this. She wanted to hear the John cry out, because she was sure that they were no less interested and angered as to why there had been someone working for the Mafia -in- Old Town. As to why he was there or if he simply wanted to stir up trouble. More or less, she hated spies and if Don Magliozzi wanted an example to be made out of one of his men, Taz was well prepared to send one to him in many pieces. Click. The flame of the light spat into the air like a blow torch, a miniature one. She didn't bring the flame to his flesh but it was rather close that it made him look at her with the fear in his eyes returning. She pressed her half nude body into his somewhat, her upper torso devoid of clothing yet a pair of leather pants comfortably doning her hips to perfection. Her short, yet wild dark mane of tresses danced down the front of her face rather easily clouding her eyesight somewhat but not to the point that she could not see the male in which she was straddling. Fire to the Flesh has never been more fun.
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Tasina DeLeon
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