A slender elven woman, thinly dressed in purple silken cloth, stands next to a table in a dimly lit room. She holds a long fine dagger with a bone handle in one hand. The other supporting the bugle of her pregnant belly. Long gold blond hair flows down her back and over her shoulders.
The table before her is rough hew wood with metal bands. A squirming form of another elven woman heavily bound by chain and bands is in the center. Compared to the standing pregnant elf she is far from fine, or more to the point is far from fine now. Her body is naked glistening with sweat in the dim light. She has strange puncture marks, like bee stings only ten times the size and have a blackish red hew, with a pink liquid oozing from the wound. There are no other marks on her body, it is beautifully curved ebony skin taunt muscles, long slender legs. Her feet, it is here there is a change. One foot is perfectly formed, but the other not. Skin neatly peeled back from the underside and topside of the foot skin laying out around the bone meat and muscle, like a orchids petals. On the underside are a series of long needles pushed deep into the meat. They are arranged in a strange pattern from the toes to the heel.
The pregnant elf reaches forward and flicks one of the needles with her dagger. A primal scream issues for the woman on the table. The dagger now runs up and down the needles, like a child running a stick along fence palings. Screaming turns to shrieking, mouth snaps shut shattering teeth, body arching fighting against the bonds, shaking tearing flesh. Dagger moving rhythmically against the needles now, under the gut wrenching noise can faintly be heard the bell like ting ting ting of dagger on pin. Like a conductor every touch of the dagger corresponds to the hideous wracking of the thing on the table.
Dagger stops Elf staggers back clutching her swollen belly, movement can be seen under her skin, pushing rolling sliding around inside her, she moans softly head bowed.
The woman on the table stops her macabre dance, breathing heavily turns her head toward her tormentor. Through clenched jaw and quivering lip, she breathes out “MONSTER”. Spittle, bile and blood dribble from the corner of her mouth, head falls back thudding on the table.
Mahaziya hears the pain-soaked word “Monster”. Hmm monster, am I a monster. I don’t see myself as such, I don’t look like one and I definitely don’t think like one, and I should know I grew up with monsters. There were my family. My Mother, Aunts and Sisters. Monsters were irrational, unpredictable they would lose themselves to lust, pleasure and pain. Indulging their fantasies even at the risk of losing they lives.
Mahaziya slowly slides her head in front of the bound woman. I am no monster, this talk we are having is purely for business. I feel nothing for you or your predicament. I care not for your pain, it is but an instrument I use to get what I need. You are not an innocent, but that matters not, be you man, child or babe I care not. I will continue touching you until I have for filled my commission. And know, I need no information, I don’t want to know your family secrets, or how to access your vault. My commission is ruin. I will ruin your body to soften your mind. Then I will ruin your young pert daughter until she is raw flesh. Grind that flesh, starve you and feed you. My commission is ruin.
Mahaziya catches a soft sound behind her, she spins and stares in the face of a male elf dark of hue. Her tension releases as she sees the symbol on the scroll he holds out in front of him. Without a word she reaches for the scroll and the male turns and silently leaves the room. She cracks the seal and reads.
Hmmm, very inconvenient. She turns back to the table. I am so sorry I must cut this short, I have been called away on a much more profitable matter. I do hope you understand. With that she steps forward and quickly slides the slender dagger into the woman’s eye up to the hilt and twists her wrist like whisking egg. Pulled the dagger from the socket wiped it in the motionless woman’s hair and moved to the door. Mahaziya, stopped at the door way shook her head. Hmm don’t rush girl you are getting forgetful, the pert one remember the daughter. She turns, slides the dagger from her hip and saunters to the door on the far side of the room.