Intersecting an Inguen

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 2nd, 2014, 3:34 am

Seaside Market
51st of Summer, 514 AV

Another letter had arrived outside her tent, only this time it was fastened down by a rock; pacified by the earth’s weight and prevented against any potential of flittering away with the wind.

She had stumbled upon the piece of paper after emerging from her shelter to gather some sunlight. This was one of the few days she was allowed to sleep semi-well. She usually spent her nights wandering the streets of the city or the forest behind her tent.

Her mind was adrift in the land of susurration, shimmering with tranquil latent thoughts in an endless sea of shrouded obscurity. She couldn’t recall the day before last; she couldn’t remember what had happened several bells ago or what she had dreamt of not less than a few chimes before she had awoken. It was blissful to be restrained for the potential of overthinking.

She allowed herself to linger in the vast world of irrevocable silence. The only things she permitted to protrude into her body and through her ear canal was the halcyon sounds of serenity- the birds that chirped on nearby branches and the quiescent rustling of leaves with the wind.

She imagined an ocean of salt, the texture smooth, but course and inconceivably rugged. It was a balanced twirl of thought. She prohibited any outside annoyances and vexations. Instead, she focused her attention on herself, not what surrounded her.

Her lungs filled with air, her inhalation suppressing any bad memories or recollections. She steadied her heartbeat by allowing her mouth to suck the ubiquitous wind from the sky. It flowed through her trachea and erupted into her pleura, blossoming and promoting the healthy need for oxygen.

She exhaled this gasp slowly, dislodging her chest from its heightened position. It was no longer raised, but gradually readjusted itself into the normalcy of relaxation. She did this in repetition, multiple times before her mind was clear of all cryptic cogitation.

Finally, when she had finished her meditative reflection, she proceeded to bend down and release the paper from the rock’s captive hold. It was folded over several times, but only glancing at it for a mere second guaranteed the relief of any dubious thoughts that it was in fact ‘A’ whom had written the note.

She unfolded the letter and let her gaze fall upon the calligraphic words. She tried to decipher his terribly written penmanship and found reasoning behind some of his words. She read,

“There is a young man who has been seen stealing from locals in the city. He has been a trickster, deceiving the elderly, the young and the poor with his vicious mind and in doing so he has used his thievery techniques to deprive from those who need their property the most. He is not necessarily a poor man, therefore his acts are sought with much contempt. He is a threat and his actions need to cease, therefore I have assigned you to dismiss his existence.

However, there is something I must ask of you. You will interrogate him, force him to spill the secrets of the small gang of thieves he has been seen with.

He has often been found soliciting near the Seaside Market always wearing dark clothes and a blue hat. I urge you to sentence this man to a perish from the decrepit lands he was born and bred in. There is one warning I will speak to you of, however, and that is to always have a contingency plan.

His name is Lazerdus Elk.

-A”

It was still the beginning of the day, or so Lenz thought at the moment. Upon glancing up at the sun, she noticed that the horizon was a rather off shade of orange, very unlike what it would have appeared to be had it been the early morning. No, it wasn’t the morning but the evening. The sun was suspended in time, hanging by strings or thin pieces of thread in the middle of the air.

She looked behind her, saw her tent with the flap closed and zipped tightly, and sighed. Her body ached, started to shake with rigid convulsing pains until it was a necessity to fold her arms and hug her body to prevent from writhing out of her skin.

She needed to go out and do something to day, the ‘something’ portion of her desire being the murder of a thief. Her mind was full, spinning in a bowl of stagnant water. Mold began to grow, spreading up the cavities in her brain until they were multiplying like an epidemic without a cure.

She reached back into her shelter and retrieved her axe. She gripped the base and began to play with it, slicing the air and turning until her back was against an invisible wall. She cocked her wrist and tossed the axe into the air, hoping her balance and eye coordination would prove essential in catching the beast before it sliced into her hand and into the ground beneath her.

Her luck, the luck she had never been graced with indebted her with proof that there ever was such a word. Nostalgic symptoms grappled her neck and pressed its claws into her jugular vein until she could have sworn her vision transferred into scent. A drug, something that caused the shift of senses was playing with her mind, but instead, she reached out her hand and caught the axe willingly in her grasp.

Her knuckles were white, but she ignored the inevitable reaction from anxiety and hesitance. She struck the head of the axe into the air and brought it swiftly down until it connected with the ground, but only enough so that it caressed the slender blades of grass before flying upwards again.

She pivoted on her heel and lunged forward, burying her weapon into a nearby tree. She struggled to rip it from the barks harness, but eventually she did, a smile brimming the corners of her lips, the edges of her mouth. It was sinister and insubstantial to the flaws of happiness. She was ready to deliver a painstaking end to a man who deserved it.

She quickly stepped back into her tent to obtain another object of dire need. It was a small amount of rope she had cut from the supply she had arrived with from her travels in the wilderness. She hid it in a pocket on the inside of her cloak and proceeded to mentally plan her day.

She walked out of the woods, with the axe concealed within her coat whether it was scorching weather or not. She walked through the Ten City and she didn’t stop walking until she had merged with civilization if one could even define such a city as that.

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 2nd, 2014, 3:36 am

The sun was slowly being dragged through the air, kissing the ground every now and again and taunting the child with the weapon hidden within her cloak.

She blew out a thick string of air, her lungs reverberating due to the loss of oxygen. It wasn’t until she managed to inhale again that her stomach and chest no longer hurt. She slunk to the side of a building, pressing her back against the wall just how she imagined doing so back at her tent. Her eyes were on fire as she coveted the sight of gore and entrails.

Her mind was a massacre awaiting the commands to exile. Her commander in chief was a man shrouded in dark cloaks and mystery. In no way had she been frightened by his appearance, for she had seen worse in her lifetime.

Her heart was beating frantically in her chest as she struggled to attain the proper perception on what was going to happen. Her hands were shaking, but her knowledgeable intellect wasn’t able to succumb to comprehending as to why this was.

She slid through the evening, watching hastily as the glowing embers of the world’s life source was briskly dwindling away by every tick of the latent sundial. Was it her enemy? A foe or a friend? A fiend or a companion? She couldn’t decipher why her mind was shifting from thought to thought so quickly until she stealthily flew past the maw of an alleyway. She loped through the tunnel, the ceiling ripped from the sides by the creators.

She scoffed. Do they fear the underground? Is that why their inconsolable souls demanded of them to craft a tunnel above the earth?

There was soon to be a voice, one of not her tone and height but of a darker susurration. She quivered; her entire body seemed to convulse as the words entered her brain once again.

You look like an ignoramus, your sneaking around as if no one can spot you. It’s pathetic and exhilarating to watch you dance around.

Lenz shot straight up, the hairs on the back of her neck eliciting from the latent electricity that surrounded the entirety of her body. She wished she could have shriveled up and died right then and there. The voice was antagonizing and always made her appearance of idiocy twofold to the dunces around her.

She mentally tried to silence in the most intimidating voice she could muster, but to no avail. It persisted and ignored her command, neglecting to find her the one with the utensil of self-destruction.

Your simpleton tricks are without tactic. I’m more superior in this companionship and your laxness is delinquent on only your part.

Something inside her broke, the essence of her creation shattering into the small particles of hope and faith, that of which she still contained yet did not feel within her.

“There is no companionship among us cretin,” she sneered quietly as she continued to traipse with the little stealth she knew.

Your sight is blinded by scorn. There is certainly a companionship between us, yet you are far too distracted to sense it. Clear your mind and you’ll see it. I’m not departing from your existence any sooner than you will rethink your passion.

Her heart beat was quickening, breaking down into frantic and perishable heaves. Her skin was growing cool, perspiration starting to conjure on the flesh and over the hairs of her arms and legs. Her neck was growing hot, yet her heart continued to traverse over to the frigid side of feeling.

“I prefer my perception muddled, thank you,” she retaliated harshly. “Now, you will silence yourself as I complete my mission.”

Some hero you are.

With her ears turned off from the voices inside her head, she continued to slink down the outside corridor until she found an exit way, emerging from the darkness of disguise and into the depths of localism and insecurity.

She caught sight of the Seaside Market and sighed, envisioning what her life was like prior to the depletion of the one she cared for and desired with all her heart. She no longer was the owner of a heart. It had been sold to some daemon or another; it had vanished with all the sanity she had allegedly possessed.

She sobbed at the loss of her life, for where did it disappear to? She tried exhuming the remains of her body and soul, even her mind posthumously, but nothing seemed reasonable to her during the time. She was forever cursed to live a life of pain and suffering, suffering and pain.

This was why she killed. And her pain and suffering would be squandered, or so she would be distorted of her threshold with reality, and this was something she could never turn back to in the future, had she one.

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 4th, 2014, 4:07 am

Her eyes were burning from the sheer impairment of blinking. Devoid of emotion during those split seconds it took to scour the layout before her, she could recall her heart beating rapidly during the entire time.

The hairs that clung to the back of her neck with the empowerment of a mother trying to maintain custody over her daughter- it was the feeling of those hairs being torn from her skin when her orbs of hazel callous caught sight of the man she was ordered to subjugate to an inexorable torture.

He was wearing the hat as described by her employer. He was slouching against a ratty building, the shingles lazily hanging off and slowly falling from their rotted structure.

It was imperative the way he sincerely dragged on his smoke. The breath that left his lips made the woman’s stomach lurch until she dry heaved.

He was pathetic, a nuisance to the world and one that was no doubt seeking out his next target if he could be called anything but a monster. It was what she was willing to refer to him and it was the singular, unimportant noun she would call him from then on.

Her eyes were continually growing sore. The sour sight of the young man was repulsive. He spat on the ground and began to sidle through the remaining crowd, the sun briskly dwindling from under the weight of the darkness that was soon to be night.

He was shifty- there was no dubious correction there and it was clear to the redhead’s own eyes that he was stalking his prey, but what prey was the question that lingered in the air like a foul smell.

She began to scamper through the evening as well, stepping discretely behind his footfalls, making sure to keep out of his peripheral sight and to remain silent like the spirits in the dawn of mourning.

She hid her face with the brim of her hood and made sure to remain stealthy, quickly escaping any line of sight he might have with her by using a random pedestrian as a shield.

They were her concealing mandates used for protection and it was viable to always know ones surroundings in tracking down someone as plausibly dangerous as this man.

She began to saunter, blending in with the crowd as if she truly did belong with them.

That isn’t true at all, now is it my dear?

She tried to avoid the conversation that was starting to creep into her mind. It was brewing and stinging the back of her eyes, forming a splitting headache that was sure to send her over the edge of hysteria and remorseful aggravation.

It would not cease. It was like a fly that wouldn’t shoo even after being swat at for hours on end. It was like a black cat that wouldn’t disperse, its presence a well-known fact that good luck would not permeate to travel with you through your life.

She was forever cursed with the inaudible speech of a demon in her mind. Ever since the accident, the murder, and it drove her crazy.

She could be classified as mentally unstable. Her emotions wavered constantly- a bipolar cycle that gravitated from lunacy to depression to manic hysteria back to a wallowing demonic child.

She was forever cast into an endless life of mixed feelings, her mind turning table over table until the placemats that garnished the wooden surface turned red from the blood that pulsed out of her unsealing wounds.

A veil as black as the shadows of the Dark was strewn over her face, shrouding her forehead and her eyes for all to see, yet not see. She was invisible- she was dormant, her life.

Her actions were without necessity, more so when they were plagued with the impediments they so often were. She sought for redemption but the redundancy of the need of retribution always collided in her way as an obstacle that could not be avoided.

Why not ignore it? This was a question that drove her insane most of the time. It played over in her mind, a small, shrill voice barking out the words until the simple tone made her ears bleed, ignited with the fires of self-pity. She knew she was worthless now that her only sentimental piece in the game had been stolen from her.

She was done playing. She flipped over the chess piece a long while ago and now it was her claimed duty to sentence those like her to the ends they so deserved.

This was why she was continually crawling, traipsing ever so silently behind a man of thievery technique.

She watched his movements skeptically and closely. With the entirety of her attention drawn to the man and his hands, she noticed a slight twitch in his left hand as it caressed an elderly man’s jacket pocket only to be removed with a shiny object now in the palm of the thief’s hand.

Lenz made it her objective to create a scenario in terms of gaining this man’s attention. She needed his perspective on the situation that was going to play out, but first she needed to plan out exactly what she was to do before accidentally screwing something up, if anything at all.

She pondered, her thoughts rummaging in the vials, vases and canisters of her mind. Memories, ideas, plots were all formulating certain and morally specific objectives such as her desire was at the moment.

Finally, without terrible consequence she was in the planning phase.

She wondered what would happen had she simply gone up to the man and accused him of stealing. What would he do?

He would probably deny his actions and turn to leave you in your insolent murkiness.

That is not necessarily true. Your facts are fallible as is my current plan. Silence yourself as I continue to dwell on other alternatives, she replied coarsely.

She decided on another idea, thinking about the outcome had she created a scene. Should she steal from someone else? Could she draw the attention of a local bystander, in turn causing the man she was after to view her?

That could promise you more enigma than you already guarantee for your soon to be failed attempt at restoring your dignity. Oh, or have you already misplaced it somewhere? Such a shame it is…

She started to pull at her hair, losing precious ticks by the clock’s hand as she did. Tearing a few strands of luscious scarlet from her skull, she posed another idea before rushing with the wind on her side and luck, hopefully, as well.

She planted her right foot and started to sprint toward the man, her hand outstretched as she snagged the pouch of currency from out of the man’s pocket.

She had just stolen, used the little knowledge she held of larceny to dismember a man from his deprived goods.

With the new token in hand, she continued to run down the imaginary line through the mob of bewildered and stunned people.

She heard a commotion erupt from behind her, a man screaming for her to stop, but she could have cared less.

Her mind was flaming with millions of letters, words, sentences. Some were provocative and highly profane, but they weren’t latent. She could hear them chasing her, following her as she continued to sprint.

Her side was beginning to hurt, but she continued to push through the pain that was quickly forming right below her left breast. It was digging into her chest, trying to test its exhuming probability as it strove to obtain some sort of treasury.

It would not succeed, for she did not even bear a heart any longer. It had disappeared, up and left in the middle of the night.

The night of the disaster, a catastrophe that would not allow the erasing from her memory.

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 5th, 2014, 9:23 pm

She spun around and watched as the thief was continuing to chase her down. She ran on, rounding corners and vanishing with the dust she kicked up from her incessant speeding.

Her legs began to throb and the twinge-like pain in her side began to become unbearable. It subsided for a second, but then came again and only more severe than the last attack.

She was done. She quit, the last lunging leg she took ended in a heap as she fell to the ground, dirtying her stark black cloak and the pants she wore underneath it.

Her hood fell down in the process, exposing her identity for all to see, which so happened to be no one but the man following her at such brisk pace.

You are lucky your delinquency doesn’t subject you to eternal malady.

“Shut up!” she screamed before being bombarded with a stranger she knew all too well.

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice gravelly and intimidating. She would not suffice to be seen as lower intellect or with much obscurity. She would make herself known whether it killed her or not.

For all she knew, her newfound profession was something of direness. She did not know whether or not she would return to her shelter at the end of the day, nor did she seem to care.

Her life was nothing without the child she came to care for and love. This was just a chore, and one she seemed to feel nothing but apathy for. She tolerated it and tolerate she would, especially when it came to barbaric thieves.

“You seem to have something of mine,” he growled, narrowing his eyes as he spoke.

Lenz did not back down. Instead, she sized the man up and remained calm, posing herself as a portrayal of merciless will.

She squinted, the darkness of her pupils the only noticeable thing in her eyes. She raised her shoulders and snarled slightly, depicting that of a predator watching carefully down at its prey. She was the alpha in this current predicament and it would not go without visibility that this was so.

She intimidated him, she knew, and she would continue to do so to maintain dominance. Now that it had been attained, it would stick, like adhesive, to her façade. She would provoke some nasty filling into her supper of unappeasable cruelty.

She could not be stopped; in this moment in time she felt the power as if she was a god all on her own. She didn’t need to be looked after, for she held the cards and she dealt them the way she sought them to be dealt.

“Oh, this?” she mocked halfheartedly as she raised the pouch of mizas. “I thought I would borrow it and keep it safe from ruthless mammoths such as yourself, no?”

“I don’t understand your shyke, but if you’d so kindly hand back what rightfully belongs to me, there won’t be any need for an argument, vagik.”

She was rapidly growing intolerant of his unrelenting sordid commentary, to such the extent that she was near close to sauntering over to his invaluable body and slapping him across his smug looking face. She held back, however, knowing that her strength was less weak than his.

“Your tongue is disreputable and avaricious. In all honestly, I find it rather shameful. You hold vocabulary in your brain somewhere else, right?”

He snarled at her latent insinuation before making a hasty step forward, swiping his hand at the pouch that still dangled from Lenz’s grasp. She yanked it back before he could wrap his stingy fingers around the fabric.

“I’m not even a thief, yet I took this from you without so much as a glance in your direction. What does that say to you? Does it mention your inadequate knowledge on how to deprive from those that need it the most? Does it show you how atrocious your actions are, that you are slowly being eaten by the guilt that is blossoming in the pit of your soul? Or do you not bear one any longer?”

“Stop talking, vagik!”

He took a swing at her, but the movement was procrastinated, and enough so that Lenz was able to dismiss the act of being punched in the jaw. She ducked down so that she was placating herself into a modest crouch before jumping back up and using the man’s momentum to turn him away from her.

She grabbed the back of his arm and swung him around to the back of a brick wall. His face slammed hard into the stone, causing various droplets of blood to seep out from newly created scratches and cuts.

“I don’t play games, mister,” she seethed from behind his head.

Her lips were a mere few centimeters from his left ear as she spat the words into his canal, making sure that he heard every enunciated letter coming off of her tongue.

“I especially don’t play them with criminals like you, so when I say that you are going to get what you deserve, you better understand the meaning behind those words.”

And with that, she yanked his head back by the hair she grasped in her clenched fist and slammed his face back into the wall, sending him into a turmoil of somber and depressing unconsciousness.

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 5th, 2014, 9:25 pm

What do you plan to do?

“I don’t know.”

Do you think you could have come to this conclusion before you beat him into a temporary coma?

“Do you think you could have come to the conclusion that speaking when not wished to be heard poses great pain on your part? Quiet!”

Your anger obliterates all source of self-control and fathomable concentration. Do you understand this? If you had half a mind to-

“If half of my brain still remained I wouldn’t be speaking to you right now,” she replied cynically as she dragged a thieving man by the collar through the deserted alleyways.

It was dark now, a night without so much as a star or two in the sky. The horizon no longer bore lacerations of crimson or blood orange.

The shades and tints of the sunset had dissipated, revealing the devastating effects of the nights horrors. Clouds filled the ceiling of the earth to the brim and Lenz tried her best to not remain tempted by her thirst.

She was dragging the man, whom was knocked out at the moment, to a place she had learned gave no second chances.

It was a chamber where people walked into cells and were betrayed, their friends or accomplices throwing the key away as they watched their lives spin into uncontrollable and hefty despair.

This woman, the one with the vibrant red hair, had already lost her life to despair and incoherent contrition.

She didn’t care whether this alleyway was where everyone came to place their life on the line and fish for large sharks. She was a shark and with her fin hovering above the surface, she was planning to rip some people to shreds and gorge herself on the unavoidable indulgence of their bleeding flesh and splintering bones.

“I’m a shark and he is my fish,” she murmured to herself until she finally arrived at her destination, or so she thought. It was too dark to tell, but the sound of screams off in the distance proved that she was somewhere close to the actual location.

Please, resume telling yourself such pitiful lies.

In no way was she a lackadaisical woman. She had planned out each and everything she was going to do in her head and it was now that she was repeating these steps to herself for safe keeping.

She didn’t want to lose the instructions in the torment in her skull. It would take an eternity to simple unearth them again and she definitely did not have that time.

She removed her axe from her jacket and set it on the ground a few feet from where she stood and leant over the unconscious man, studying him with her grotesquely lustful eyes. He would be inarticulate once he awakened, but just the sight of him panicking would be enough to stir some villainous passion within her.

You are psychotic, whispered the voice inside her head.

“So I have been told,” she muttered in response as she reached into her jacket to retrieve the small amount of rope she had remembered to bring with her on her trip out into the city.

It felt course and ragged in her grasp. It tingled the thin layers of skin on her fingertips and elicited a tingling sensation across her bare flesh. She remained stoic, although a sinister giggle was near close to erupting from out of her mouth.

She bit her tongue to continue her laconic procedure.

She moved the limp body of the man to the side so that his arms were vulnerable to her doings. She brought one arm behind his back before pushing him over again only to reveal his other arm. She brought that one to his back as well before taking the rope and wrapping it around both arms.

She struggled here, having never tied a knot before. Sure, she had done so in making a tent, but it was different then. This was a thick piece of material and she wasn’t sure she knew exactly how to do it without messing up. She didn’t want her spoil escaping now did she?

She took one end and looped it over the other before tangling it underneath the base, pulling the end through so that it made a sort of loop.

She then pulled both ends tightly away from one another so that a knot was formed. It was taught and formed with excellence, and in doing this it created a smile to bloom onto her cold lips.

She stood up and went to grab her axe again before coming back to her victim to move him into a sitting position. With his back against the wall and with her trusted weapon in her hand, all she had to do now was wait until his eyes opened and the look of fear was plastered onto his dreading face.

“This is going to be delicious.”

You truly are morbid.

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 10th, 2014, 2:05 am

Finally the turmoil of ghastly and groggy issues subsided in her mind. The beat of her heart, a rhythm without sequence, one too rapid and far too erratic to be considered normal- it was hammering away in her chest, threatening to break through her ribs and splinter out of her flesh in a gory manner. She could hear it, feel it pounding in her ears until she couldn’t stand the sound and had to cup her hands around them.

“Stop!” she shouted to the night’s sky. “Stop, stop, stop!”

Her chanting plead was acceptable, acknowledged as the noise ceased. Her heartbeat continued to batter the hard, calcified tissue of her skeletal system. It caused a throbbing to flare up all over her body, but she chose to evade acknowledging the pain.

The man’s eyes opened, his jaw slackening in the process. His pupils dilated and his irises swam from right to left as he tried his best to take in his surroundings in the short amount of time he was given before Lenz stole his view.

She leant over his prostrate body and titled her head to the side like a dog attempting to concoct a conclusion towards a problem he didn’t quite understand. Her eyes glazed over before she smirked, insidious teeth melting over jagged and torn lips.

“As I have mentioned before,” she muttered under her breath. “I don’t play games. However, I take an interest in you; therefore I will stray from my organised procession. Instead of doing by tactical rituals, I think I will play with you for a little while before I cope to your exile.”

It was malicious, malevolent, cruelty beyond the dastardly yet elegant contours of deviousness. She was bordering on the brink of self-destruction and she wasn’t afraid to take down the entire world with her plunder.

Lenz would go out with a final bang, but she wasn’t finished yet. She would exonerate her soul by condemning those around her to a sentence of irreversible vexation.

She would free herself by throwing all else in the cell, and then she would lock the chamber doors and swallow the grimy key.

She was suddenly wracked with nausea then. For no apparent reason she was jumping over the line of health and daring herself to take the leap past gagging.

Releasing the vehement source in her body, she ended up dry heaving until a glob of phlegm left her system. It landed with a splat on the man’s face.

He cried out in disgust, nearly vomiting himself. She silenced him with the palm of her hand. She laced her index finger through his lips and sent it down until it caressed his uvula.

It was a simpler form of torture. It was one of tickling and torment of a different sort.

She tugged on it and flicked it from side to side until he ended up spilling out the rest of his stomach content. Even then, she did not stop. She continued to force him to gag, vomit or dry heave until he begged for no more. This was Lenz just getting started.

She sat back and glared him in the eyes, staring him down with an intimidating grimace latched onto her lips. Her cheeks were sucked in and her eyebrows were strewn in a downward facing arch. She bared her teeth and proved to the man that she held the higher ground for the rest of the night.

The two could barely see each other, but there was enough visibility for Lenz to plot her next plan of action.

“W-what do you want?” he panted, trying to regain any amount of oxygen that he could. He spat the words to Lenz’s ears, though, and in turn caused the tip of her ears to flare bright red.

“I want information,” she growled deleteriously, lowering herself closer to the man’s face. “I want to know why you do what you do and I want to know now.”

“I-I don’t know w-what you mean,” he replied halfheartedly.

Lenz sighed and leant back on the balls of her feet. She swayed from side to side before settling the dispute in her brain.

She was going to have to get the information about this man one way or another and there was something that just irked her about the façade he was attempting to pull over her.

He was a bad liar, she knew that much. She was going to have to strategize and find an alternative process in getting him to spill the truth no matter how badly it pained him to do so.

“You’re lying,” she murmured without sincerity. “You know what I mean.”

“I-I’m not, I swear!” he croaked, but his eyes told a different story. Lenz saw it.

She watched as his pupils dilated again and focused their attention to the left of his body. She recalled learning from somewhere or someone that an individual could be spotted lying when they peer to their left. It didn’t always work, but his reaction was very obvious.

She snatched the axe from her side and held it out before her, tilting the head of the weapon down towards the man genital area.

“Would you like to try again?”

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 10th, 2014, 2:09 am

The intensity the two shared was so great that a malignant epidemic could have rested upon both of them and neither would have been affected. They seemed dead, the vibes both gave off uninviting and very malefic.

“I’m a nefarious woman, I will agree with you,” she breathed, “but I won’t argue with you when it comes to attaining certain information. You will tell me or I will castrate you and leave you to bleed out.”

She could visualize it now- the blood seeping out of his wound, where his genitals used to be located. She could envision the severed flesh and the small bits and pieces of bodily functions that made a man his given sex.

She could witness the fluid pouring out of the gashed incision and flowing down the alleyway until it formed a puddle next to a crack in the turf.

She shook her head, dispelling herself from the morbidity of the pernicious thoughts of who she was trying to avoid.

“You’re a petching lunatic, vagik!”

“I detest that comment you scoundrel! You will tell me what I wish to know or else your entrails will be made into stew, and I will have been the one to make it. Redact your reply or this sharp blade with extirpate your precious organs, and as I have said before, I do not play games, nor do I joke.”

Don’t lose control quite yet. He told you to gain information about the group of thieves this criminal has been seen with. Obtain the knowledge and then you can release your pent up fury.

The ‘he’ in the commanding advice was that of the grand ‘A’, her employer, and he was the one person Lenz was terrified to disobey. The two shared a common interest, a bond that was stretched severely yet wouldn’t snap from under the pressure.

I admire your attempt at calming me down, but I am the superior and you are inferior, understand? she retorted before kneeling down beside her prey again.

Lenz used her fingers to pry the waistband from the man’s hips before shrugging them down his thighs and off of his legs entirely. She tossed the article of clothing a few yards away from her before observing his physic. She then did the same thing with the underwear before tossing it to the side as well.

He struggled several times during his undressing, but his strength had been diminished due to the head injury he had received from Lenz’s strong hold on the back of his head.

Brick walls could be pains in the arse.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered banefully, but with a child hint to the tone of her voice. “This might sting a little.”

She lowered the weapon’s head so that it rested gently on the man’s groin. She made no hesitation before carving through the tough tissue and expelling the scarlet fluid from within the tissue. It oozed out before spurting over the head of the axe.

The man’s screams were excruciating to the woman’s ears, but she neglected to give him any more attention than he already called for her to.

She relaxed her grip on the axe, slicing a little deeper before retracting the pressure on the body part. She leant back again and observed her work. It was gory, and she was modest.

It was an amateur’s effort, her art had been more beautiful, but she was extravagant when it came to creating a signature. She had titled the blade and flourished her work.

It was pain that gave her the strength to strive through each and every waking bell.

“P-please,” the man huffed, writhing with his hands sewn together behind his back by the wrathful power of the rope.

“Your whimpering vexes me.”

“I’ll t-tell you.”

“Tell me what exactly?”

“I’ll t-tell you… why I do w-what I… do.”

“What is it that you do?” she questioned, playing dumb in order to extract information from him.

She was an interrogator, a torturer, an assassin if need be, therefore she had her own tricks of her sleeves. This was one of them and she was rather fond of the presentation of how she was using it.

“I s-steal from… people,” he panted, his face twisting into a mask of virulent despair and weakness.

“And why is that you do this?”

There was a small pause before the man continued onward, but his response was one Lenz wasn’t sure was of truth.

“I s-steal because I am forced to.”

“You’re lying again,” she sneered, as she picked up her axe again and leant over the soon to be corpse. “I don’t like liars.”

Character sheet · by **Lenz** on June 10th, 2014, 2:12 am

She pressed the tip of the blade against his throbbing genitals and began to apply pressure. The man let out a groan before Lenz thrust the weapon entirely through the body part.

A sickening snapping sound pierced both individual’s ears. A scream, too, invaded the woman’s eardrums, stirring some sort of demon in there somewhere.

Pain flourished through her brain. She could see the blood trickling down the side of her neck and dripping on her shoulders only to run down her side and fall to the ground.

She heaved, gasping for air as she dropped the axe onto the ground and clamped her hands over her ears.

The shriek was torment enough, but now it had caused a splitting headache to dissimilate all forms of determination and self-dominance. The sound was of the unholy power of detrimental impurity and she was teetering over the line, threatening to wreak havoc all over the puny man beneath her.

His screams began to diminish into sobs and quiet whimpers and whines. It was soon soothing music to the young female’s ears. She lavished in the noise until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“P-please,” he choked. “N-no more.”

Lenz sighed before leaning in close to the man’s mouth to better hear his words, for they were withering away into nothing. The pain was starting to send him into a foreboding state of unconsciousness.

She wasn’t through to him yet, so she forced him to stay alert by digging her long fingernails into his upper thigh.

“Then tell me why you were forced to steal from people. Who are you working for?”

His eyes were quickly growing heavy; they were weakening by the moment and their hasty persistence didn’t give Lenz must of an opportunity to keep him grounded to consciousness.

She dug her fingernails deeper into his leg. Pinpricks of blood began to flow from the punctures, seeping from the wounds and traversing across his leg until it floundered to the ground and fizzled out. It’s crimson hues distracting for the woman, but her attention was soon drawn back to the task at hand.

“Tell me!”

He slurred the words and they were barely audible, but the redheaded female was able to decipher each and every letter that enunciated itself from between his lips.

“We c-call ourselves the M-m-masked m-men. We’re a-a small… group- hardly k-known. W-we steal for f-fun and…”

His eyes fell and his body grew limp; his final words never made it past his teeth before he passed out. This made Lenz furious. She needed more information!

Perhaps you have all the information you need at the moment.

“What do you know about what I need and don’t need?” she countered sinisterly.

He gave you the name of his club.

“It’s more than a club.”

Whatever you see it as, you now have the name.

“It’s not that simple.”

You like to make everything more difficult than it needs to be don’t you?

“What do you mean cretin?” She was quickly evolving into a manic state of anger.

She was soon to thrust her hand through a brick wall unless she was sedated with the calming voice of reason. This voice in her head was not the solution, but she was willing to oblige in listening to what it had to say to her.

You have a name; you know what they do. All you have to do now is track them down.

Lenz stopped to take a moment to think this over. “How do you propose I do that?” she asked earnestly, her breath ragged and anxious for a helpful answer.

You’re smart, therefore you will find out a way to do just that.

This was most certainly not the answer she was searching for. Instead of a calming serenity to dull her painful uncertainly, she received a riddle instead.

The rage inside of her enhanced, nurturing into something far more fierce and spiteful. It was vindictive honesty that sent her over the edge. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t smart enough to figure out what to do with only a name.

But she was a determined and tenacious woman. She did not back down from a fight and she certainly didn’t give up without proving herself as worthy first.

She would find this ‘club’ and she would put an end to their shenanigans and charades whether it ended her in the process or not.

Lenz expeditiously snatched the axe from the ground near the unconscious man and held it steadily in her hand. She planted her feet deep into the ground and twisted the handle around in her left hand before grasping the wood until her knuckles turned white. She lurched forward and drove the head deep into the chest of her victim.

Blood spurted out from the creation, the trauma she had spawned. It did so in thick streams of vile, red liquid.

It was grotesque, sending a few chunks of flesh with it as it poured from the laceration with rapid pace. It was like a fountain, and it was an image the fiery redhead would never forget.

She heaved the axe’s blade from out of the cavity and let it hit the ground with a loud clunk or bang. She then turned on her heel and proceeded to traipse back to her shelter, an unquieting and perverse simper adhered to her lips.

“Mission accomplished,” she grumbled with her head held high, a sinister grimace tainting her face.

I wouldn’t say that.

by **Ablation** on June 18th, 2014, 11:47 pm

Lenz :

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Solo Intersecting an Inguen