The Man with the Pale Face (Valeria)

[Hawkins Grime]

Mid afternoon on Onderon, in an alley of the slums in the grand city-state of Iziz, a tall man in a wide brimmed hat knelt down and dropped a few coins into a young street rat's open palm.

"Remember what I said, or I'll kill your family."

The boy nodded and ran off, melding with the crowd and insuring a good distance between him and the being the whispered rumors on the streets had named "The Man with the Pale Face."

The guards only came to this part of the town in daylight. The insecurity brought on by the night had never been worth the risk as the blight just seemed to relocate and return as soon as another chink was found. It went more or less unnoticed though as little trouble was heard from it and the sector supervisor was kept pleasantly padded from ever being interested beyond that.

This 'blight' had taken notice of the "The Man with the Pale Face" and had intended to make clear who the slums belonged to. The first two they had sent, proclaiming themselves the "Negotiator" and the "Doorman", had recently gone missing. And Grime was actively searching it out in response. The risks were too great in his mind to be discovered by a lower level of the underground syndicates. He hated any and all of them by this point but he had the plan and soon the means to manage this small corner as Iziz almost definitely insured just how isolated a syndicate would be.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

I'll know him when I see him, mm?

Apparently, that job she had done a while back with Mr. Mask had gotten her somewhere and that somewhere was higher up on the food chain. She had been contacted about a fix not too long ago. The only problem was the location. Valeria usually ruled the competition with her control of turf. But no, now she was on some damn planet she hadn't cared to listen about during her brief schooling on her homeworld of Felacat. Still, it could have been much worse. This thought she had come to while she perched atop the roof of some seedy establishment of her strategic choice. It was there that she spotted her supposed target.

"I see you.. but that doesn't mean I know you.." She whispered, flipping some multicolored ringlets from her face before leisurely slinking to the other side of the building. There, a low growl escaped her throat and then performing an almost lazy cartwheel, she slipped over the side of the building. A claw, once having formed a human hand slammed into the material making up the building. Sparks sprayed and then the crunch of duracrete signified her landing. To her delight, she landed just before the small boy, her target had been conversing with, just as he turned into the adjacent alley.

He paled upon noticing the clawed appendage that quickly took over the second human hand she had conjured. Both lurched forward, slipping through the flimsy material of his shirt and hefting him several feet from the ground. Turning her upper body, she set him down roughly and then stalked away. She had bigger fish to fry.. but there was always room for dessert afterward.

[Hawkins Grime]

Hawkins stepped off in the opposite direction. He had another informant to meet with and he had no time to waste. The longer he stood in one place, the more people that would take note of him. And he knew they would be trying to make out his habits, make something of him that would be predictable. Then it would be easier for the weak to stay out of his way, and for the predators to find him.

His bloodshot eyes skimmed the crowd as he stepped into their midst. His cape lined his shoulders and kept his arms concealed; his longsword was strapped to his back but hung in a reverse style and low enough that it remained concealed as well beneath the cape. All of these insects, milling about in their pointless lives that start and end without anything significant to stand for. They were nothing and everything at the same time and that fact alone could frustrate Grime's provocative nature.

He stepped into a narrow alley, the buildings that stood on either side were close enough that no rays of light pierced the lane. The unneeded drapes covering the alley for the purpose of shade only made the afternoon seem darker within. Grime entered, waiting for the informant to appear while his mind drew images of agents of the slugs forming in the shadows.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

Don't cause a scene. This needs to be discrete as possible. That same friend did pass along that you can be quite flamboyant and messy in your business, unless requested otherwise. I am counting on you, Valeria.

"How unfortunate..." She mumbled, trailing after the man. The claws she had brandished were clasped tightly by her sides, partially hidden from view by the thick black gloves she wore. She stopped short of entering the alley a few minutes after he had. There, she quietly waited for what he too had paused for. More private conversations with the locals no doubt. How boring.

All the better for her, though. Sure, she couldn't be messy with her main target. They hadn't said anything about anyone who associated themselves with him.

[Hawkins Grime]

The informant appeared from the opposite direction and began to murmur something to the taller, darker figure who said very few words in response. Whatever Valeria's target was saying though left an immediate visible effect on the small human. The informant was profusely sweating and pulling at his collar for fresh air. The conclusion of the exchange was nearing an end as the informant took several steps backwards but then halted as the 'Man with the Pale Face' extended a black armored hand that pressed against his chest. The sizzling sound of flesh could be heard in the briefest moment, the smell lingering much longer afterwards. The informant stumbled back, and then ran back the way he came. The tall man in the hat turned slowly and began to make his way out of the darkness.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

Quite interesting. It seems a most important piece to this puzzle has been kept from me on purpose. It would be absurd to think that they too were kept in the dark. My dislike for my employers grows by the second. Or perhaps, it is the difference I have found in the one who stands before me now that makes them pale in comparison. Pftt.. as if.

"Just another victim.." She whispered fiercely, clucking her tongue disapprovingly on the roof of her mouth before sweeping through the tattered curtain draped across the alley. The gesture was carried out by the dark skinned, lightly furred claws that had replaced the human digits she had sported previously. The material began to tear beneath the light caress of her jagged nails but was quickly discarded from them after she had stepped in. Her approach brought her dangerously close to her quarry and for a short time, she was content just to observe him silently. Then..

"I do believe I should have asked for more credits."

[Hawkins Grime]

"Yes, you should have."

His hand extended from within his cape and the air sizzled suddenly with an unnatural heat. The blast wasn't directed at anything in particular but it was more like a wave of telekinitec force and heated air that pushed out in every direction from the pale faced figure. The plaster on the walls beside him peeled from the heat. The eyes set into his perfectly structured face were weary beyond a bloodshot gaze and he gave this newcomer little in regards. He spit a dark red mucus against the wall a moment after releasing the blast. His hand had disappeared within his enveloping cape once more. The magnetic lock to his longsword's hilt was vibrating the metal armor of his hand subtley placed behind his back.

This one would die like the other two. He'd staple her to a wall, melt her flesh slowly, and carve into her while he ripped what he wanted to know from her. As he had with the other two. If he could bother with a smile he would, but the scarred muscles beneath the white face couldn't bother themselves with something so simple.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

You are going to be much trouble, I can see. Lots of problems for me, indeed. Why can't you just be simple and die like all the others? Came her thoughts as the heat energy began to push against her skin. Most uncomfortable. This was annoying, not to mention taking a lot longer than she had originally planned. No doubt, she was going to need every ounce of strength to bring this one down and that fact made her violent temper flair.

Her clawed hands were brought up before her, palm up. The sharpened nails equipped to the black-blue skin extended and the muscles in her arms began to grow and writhe as transfiguration swept her. Rising onto the balls of her feet, which promptly changed into massive paws, she pouted prettily as the jagged nails attached to them sliced through the material of her boots. Then, her gaze flashed back to her opponent, pointed ears now protruding astutely from her black curls.

"Force user? Such a bother..." She growled, baring a gleaming set of prominent fangs that had not previous inhabited her mouth. Slamming one fist promptly into the wall next to her, she huffed. The plaster, rather then melting as it had with his display of power, imploded beneath the blow she had dealt.

[Hawkins Grime]

"Daddy likes."

His words hissed from behind a clenched smile, as much of a smile as he was capable of making.

Shape-changers were not unknown to the underworld. In fact, quite often, they were treasured for all sorts of jobs, from enforcers and assassins to spys and even pleasure slaves. That the incumbent competition would employ one was no surprise to Grime and neither was her display of brute strength. And at least this one was smart enough to know what she was up against. Not that she seemed to have changed course at all.

It seemed he wouldn't be able to subdue this one in the manner he had originally intended. And an out right brawl was not his most favorable option at the moment but neither was chatting it the sound of reason out with the kitty cat. Well, neither option as of yet. He'd test the water to cope a feel for her.

Beyond the initial assessment of the situation, his anger and sparked frustration would not go unnoticed. The group he sought to cast down from its high horse believed that if two peons couldn't do it the first time, they'd try some special services? Ignorant fools. Ambition and self serving righteousness directed at righting the malady of incorrections he faced in the universe seemed to place Grime's anger on a pedastal, another level of awareness. All he needed was a target, something to focus on. Whether abstract or severely realistic, Grime had but to shift the blame upon that target and his mind, like a reactor that was fueled by his hateful passions, would set to work and in moments supply him with a tumultous wave of power.

The heat only continued to increase in the immediate air around them. It didn't seem to bother the pale faced man in the least, his deep set eyes that might've been strikingly handsome at one point were glazed over in another world of pain. The air was becoming thicker with each breath, and again, Grime seemed unaffacted. He stood poised, like a wound wire, taut with tension, the breaking point of his personal stand off nearing in which he would either draw his sword with malicious intent or unleash an onslaught of force pyrokinesis.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

So hot..

Her employers hadn't denied her all the information about their previous attempts at destorying this man - if that was indeed what he was. All before her had failed, supposedly, for they had never returned. Missing, silenced. She glared daggers edged with renewed vehemence and respect for him. She knew the moment his force powers had dawned upon her that this fight would go horribly awry, twisting free from her favor. The burning heat of his abilities licked her skin, like the lingering caress of a lover that had brought her both pleasure and pain. Indeed, the darker side of her cried out for more.

And yet, she knew to seek such power in this state would mean her end. Resistence set her form rigid and yet one clawed hand insisted upon reaching for it. She felt it like many could not, could grasp the raw form and extract bits of energy like she always could. Then, she withdrew. Her eyes were defiant as ever, but she took a step back.

"You're not what I expected. Not at all."

[Hawkins Grime]

"I know, I know. It's like here... you thought this would be some cake walk. And now the kitty's gone off and tasted something surprisingly spicy... Watch how she squirms."

At that, Grime focused the raging tide of hatred and suffering at the shape changer. The atmosphere dropped in temperature as he lowered his mental restraints to unleash the wave. It was different in a way, he'd been practicing the technique, attempting to perfect it. The first several times had simply resulted in setting his test subjects on fire but as he had tweaked the unlocking mechanism within his mind, Hawkins had began to make progress in other directions. The tide came rushing forth from him like a tsunami of imbittered emotion, etched with hatred and eternal frustration with existance itself.

----------

They threw his face, HIS face on top of the counter that was beneath his suspended body. The blood flowed freely from the places they hadn't fully covered with the sticky clotting paste. And they kept the drugs coming. They wanted CENSORED to enjoy every moment, remember every passing moment in what little time they planned to keep him going. And he did, mentally appreciating every excruciating second with a physical catharsis of screaming pain, choking on his own blood, and mumbling curses and his deepest secrets in hope that something might hear him and wake him from this nightmare. His face. HIS face. Carved from his skull and idly tossed before him like it had never meant a thing.

----------

It hit her full force, he could feel his suffering latch onto her and start to feed like some predatory leech, trying to dominate and overpower her willpower that she might be rendered vulnerable for Hawkins' devices.

"Oh watch how she squirms..."

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

Squirm. He likes it. Don't you..?

What was there to like? The intense emotion lacing the attack slamming into every aspect of her being, that hissing voice in her head urging on the torment? The correct question was; What was there not to like? She felt despair and excitement with her impending defeat and death. Life's last act and greatest thrill. A shiver hummed through her body just before the main impact crashed down upon her. Valeria's back arched and her claws, thrust forward, dug into the fleshy part of her hand. How could she comprehend such an attack when she had never experienced anything quite like it? Indeed, she writhed as his voice commanded, for need of anything better, anything suitable, to do.

Then, the lack of control she had over herself began to nag her mind. How dare he? The muscles in her arms jerked and she lurched forward with a release of brute strength and speed. Her arms flipped, exposing the thrumming veins set uneasy upon her wrists, and then her knuckles plunged into the duracrete ground. Whether the onslaught continued to assail her was not shown through expression any longer. Sent to her knees before the problem mutt turned rabid upon her cause, she slanted her middle inward and came to find balance upon the tips of her claws and the balls of her feet. She huffed, faltered, and steadied.

"I like spicy.." She replied dryly, though her voice did hold hint of her ire.

[Hawkins Grime]

He had watched intently, trying to figure out what was going on inside her mind as she writhed. If only De'Ville had bothered to teach him the trick how to read minds or at least sense things from people like so many of the fabled Jedi had been capable of. He'd be able to understand exactly what she was feeling. And then she seemed to resist. Through the wake of his mental attack, he could still feel the remnants of it being pushed away as she slammed her knucled into the ground before her.

The others didn't resist. Is she that strong or am I just not that good yet?

Again, his thoughts, from the possible doubt of the matter only renewed his frustrations, the machination fuming the emotions that saturated the corpse within the shell like burning toxic waste. Flashing images of the shapechanger crawling like worm, twisting like flames licked at her curves. Just like the other...

"I like spicy..."

His blood shot eyes snapped to hers as she glared up towards him. She could still play? He suddenly didn't want to kill her. It was unfortunate that she had been hired by the other side first. Mainly because he knew, just out of Grime's deeply etched sense of paranoia, that he couldn't trust her. He'd have to verify her willingness to comply. And it would have to be flawless. One sign of betrayal, the slightest hair of it. And he'd literally burn her to the ground for it.

"I am a second away from watching you squrm in a different fashion. A breath away... from burning you alive. The money they paid you is nothing compared to what I can save you from and the life you'll have after this. I'm not convincing you of anything here... I can read your mind and the moment you decide in that spicy loving mind, you'll face your given options."

The heat was returning, and his stoic demeanor was beyond discerning any kind of bluff. There was merely the heat and the hatred that painted the tone of his voice and boiled behind his eyes.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

The life after this...

She seemed genuinely surprised by the idea. Her violet eyes searched deeply, her lips parting slightly as though she meant to say something. Though, really, no words had even begun to string themselves together in her mind. Images were enough for now and while they did not encompass the events of her entire life, she was blissfully spared the numbing effects of her family's affection in youth, she was reported the recent and realistic. It either ended or began at this point.

Her lips came together again and her head canted ever so slightly, her probing gaze unhindered by the jagged strand that had fallen into it's path. She didn't say anything for he had insisted that it wasn't necessary. And indeed it wasn't. But perhaps, she was.

[Hawkins Grime]

She was his. He could see it in her eyes as she waited for the next step. The blade against her neck, tearing across it like scissors to silk and the ruby red waterfall that ensued, or what then? The life Grime promised? He was like a clock work doll but how many in both of his lives had simply been toys? How many had been more than that?

And looking down at her on her knees, the idle strand of hair in front of her eyes. He couldn't actually read her mind but he could see it in her eyes. Her soul was there, like looking through stained glass windows. The heat disappated in a rush, cold air seeming to rush in to fill the void, as his metal hand gripped her shoulder and Grime brought her to her feet.

While he might've appeared mechanically ideal, she stood close enough to see the mortal eyes set in the plaster-perfect face. They saw everything through a haze of pain, and the dark red veins that ran across the eyes made them appear as if they were cracked glass.

"I am Grime. And you, my spice, are called?"

Hawkins' metal hand ran up her neck and against her cheek. The hand, in contrast to the heat that had disappeared suddenly, was ice cold to the touch.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

Grime.

Shock after shock, the brutality of it all continuing even after he had dismissed the burning force from the alley. Now on her feet, her body quite lax despite her intense encounter with the pyrokinetic wave, she was able to observe him even closer. Her lightning hued gaze tracing the deep crimson vessels lashed across the eyes set deeply into that pallid structure.

If only she could think of something charming to say.

"Valeria. The rest of it couldn't matter any less." She murmured, the frigid touch coursing up her still heated flesh causing light tremors to travel the length of her curved spine. Her eyes rolled upward and around, fastening as though entranced upon the extremity at her pliable cheek. Her mouth opened to reveal the retraction of those sharp canines, her nose fussed gently, and her natural cant into the limb signified her momentary inquest of such a grasp.

[Hawkins Grime]

"No, it really couldn't."

His metal hand slid along the side of her face and to the back of her neck and up to the hair at the back of her neck. Grime felt it tangle amidst his fingers and he yanked it back so that her face was to the sky and his artificial lips were centimeters from her ear.

"Take me to the men who hired you. You know who I'm speaking about. Niles Nye and Jelh the Mutt."

From here Grime had a better perspective of those fangs of hers and the cold beauty of her face not to mention the distressed curve of her body as it had gone from one drastic mood to the next. The turmoil of his soul struggled between the dead passion of a now dead appetite for flesh and then his entirely different taste for flesh, to see it rend from bone and slapped against the wall like a stove to cook it upon.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

For but a moment, she just gazed up at him blankly, her thoughts running to recall those wretched beings thus named. Niles and Jelh. The corner of her mouth worked, breaking into a full smile that echoed the inner machinations and madness now grinding against the walls of her mind. What was it to her, the future of men who thought to sacrifice her on the alter of ruination? What was it to her, the gory crimson torture that would ensue once they were located? It was...

"A jolly good time, indeed." She murmured, that maniacal smile fading. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, then she add, "Shall we?"

------

Any signs of her rage afflicted Felacat form had faded once they reached the complex the two lived in together. She got the nasty kind of shivers whenever she thought about it. Shadows cast by the shoddy buildings fell across her frame, retreating from her face as light bounced from a reflective pane above, shimmering across her expression like a spotlight might a diva.

"This place is horrid." She remarked tartly, passing her vivid violet gaze over her shoulder after turning her head.

[Hawkins Grime]

His black, metal plated hand, a perfect shell in sharp contrast to shattered bone, shredded muscle, and scarred nerves underneath, reached out and ran down the length of her back side as Grime stepped up behind her shoulder.

"Absolutely horrid... But you know..."

Hawkins made some kind of noise that might've been like clearing his throat, but for getting caught on something very thick, and not sounding pleasant at all about it. Swallowing what was probably a small chunk of his esophagus, he continued.

"They sacrificed you. And for an amount that I'm sure wasn't worth it at all..."

His metal hand ran back up her back slowly, almost as if there was already a fondness there.

"They meant for you to be nothing more than a wasted attempt, another reason for them to go get someone they considered more important, more worth the credits."

The hand came up to her shoulder, resting on it, Grime's thumb made small circles against Valeria's skin.

"I, on the other hand..."

Another sickening cough.

"Disagree... And think that they are the ones who wasted their oppurtunity. They just didn't understand what you are capable of. But I know."

His artificial lips were again just a breath away from her ear.

"So show it to me. Just leave them alive for when I come in behind you."

Grime was actually slightly weary from the day and after sliding in a little motivation for Valeria, he expected her to make a rampage out of this. He'd follow well enough, and clear out everyone else in the building that Valeria didn't find on her way up. If she was lucky, she'd find them both still in bed together. An easy "two birds with one stone" scenario.

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

...nothing more than a wasted attempt..

The scarred bridge of her nose drew upward, the flesh scrunching in a most unpleased sneer as the words rang through her mind. She could see their smug faces there, hear their voices explaining that this job would be a piece of cake for someone of her skill. And yet, she had already discovered that spicy ingredient and she found she had quite the taste for it. It exceeded her tolerance for flea ridden mongrels and their mates.

Everything had led her here, to this point.

Her head turned and she observed him thoughtfully for a moment through those lightning colored eyes. Then, adjusting her gaze back upon the building before her, she stalked straight up to the front entrance. Entering a code into the side panel, the doors slid open and she stepped inside. Several people milled about within. By the looks on their faces, they had not expected to see her back. Not so soon. Not at all.

_____

The lobby of the building had been turned into a disaster area. Condemned, it should have been. There was still one left. She had chucked him down the hallway though. He lay in a bloody heap, reeking of fear and death. It would come swiftly.

"Yooouu..." She singled him out in a very animated tone, stalking down the corridor. He couldn't move. That was just as well. He wouldn't have gotten very far. When she finally reached him, her clawed hands ripped into his chest and set him up into a sitting position. "They still occupy the third floor, I trust?"

Mute with shock. Poor dear. His precious seconds were ticking by. But hers had been as well, so she felt no remorse. Numbly, she was aware of the shadow at her back. Occasionally, her frenzied attention would even turn toward him. Grime.

_____

How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to be disturbed right now!

But, sir. The girl, she's...!

Dead most likely. Now **** off!

The electricity sent up her arm from the panel, which she had promptly ripped from the wall upon reaching their abode, only excited her charged senses more. The only means of protecting themselves from the outside world had slid away. In its place stood Valeria, that fierce smile she had bestowed upon all others in her path still painfully present.

The one standing with just a sheet wrapped about his hips lurched for the blaster set on a table between she and the bed. Unfortunately for him, she got to it first. Her clawed hand wrapped about the cool metal, the gun's hue matching the swirling chaos of her eyes, and she slanted it lazily. Several rounds pierced through the sheet, firing through any offensive organs that might be found beneath.

He screamed, she pursed her lips in distaste.

"Grime.. you requested that they remain alive..?" She murmured to the shadows behind her, her voice thick with greed. The need to take what he had restrained. But she could be good. She'd show him that.

[Hawkins Grime]

The pale face appeared at Valeria's shoulder, an arc of blood flecked up the side of Grime's perfect jaw line. The other one still lying in the bed jolted in shock and fell off the opposite side, screaming out in fear. Yes, they knew, they knew the Man with the Pale Face had come for them at last. It had been like a metaphorical maze, and this monster had been one step behind them the entire time, leading them to a dead end, to this dead end.

A black hand slid up Valeria's back slowly, the metal tips of his fingers still amazingly cold for a being who always seemed to carry the heat of his frustration in the air around him. They stopped at her neck where the slim fingers slid around the back of her neck gently and caressed her soft skin.

"Yes... I requested... and I appreciate you..."

His hand tightened around the back of her neck, in what might've been a threatening fashion, a simple gesture of the dominant position Grime immediately assumed.

"... Following my word..."

His hand moved away from her neck as he stepped by her, his black figure seeming to just pull out of the very shadows of the hallway and into the room. His longsword was drawn and in his other hand, blood dripped from the hilt, his arm, and the blade freely, as if there had been a large amount of it somewhere.

Valeria was more than efficient, and Grime was more than pleased with his new toy. She had made quite a mess on her way to these two sad individuals and Hawkins had only had to clean up a little bit here and there behind her. Not that her leftovers were a problem, Grime wanted to feel the life fade from the corpses as much as he wanted to see it. And now here they were.

His plaster face drew into a wicked grin as he kicked the stomach of the crumpled man with bullet holes in his groin.

"Niles Nye, I presume. I am Hawkins Grime. I know your business, which is now my business, actually. And I am inheriting everything that was yours that I haven't or don't intend to destroy."

Grime kneeled down beside the man, grabbing his hair and yanking his head up. Nye gritted his teeth and hissed, the smell of burnt hair filling the air.

"You've lost everything. Almost."

Grime lifted the man by his hair up to stand and slammed him backwards against the wall where Nye whimpered and cradled the bloodied sheets against the inside of his thighs. The edge of Grime's sword was pressing underneath Niles' chin, so he wasn't whimpering too loudly. He was still crying though.

"Valeria... Kill the other one, make it messy, and do it where this one can see everything that happens..."

[Valeria Tur'ilian]

Grime's sudden and direct appearance at her back sent chills trembling down her spine. The good kind of chills, mind you. Her feral nature already teemed wildly on account of the events that had transpired thus far, threatening to break into a full rage that could very well bring the house down. Her lurid skin was set into a mild tremor until those fingers began their dance up her back, the frigid metal tips seeming to tame her avid disposition that was most noticable on the surface. Set on display. Inwardly, however, the frenzy only growled in response to the suspence.

His words made a ghost of what might have once been a genuinely charming smile, now twisted with the corruption that filled her every action, appear. Then, that grip made her intent again on Grime's own conduct. She dared not let her senses caress the blood dripping from the sundry items on his or her person, it would only tear her frayed control fruther. That wouldn't do at all.

She watched on, trying to remaining resolute in her limited contributions to the situation. But then..

...make it messy..

It was the only part of his sentence that really jumped out at her. An affirming huff escaped her lips and she began to stalk across the room. She rounded the bed in a predatory lurch and locked her clawed hands around the temples of the man's companion. Dragging him forward, she watched in amusement as he attempted to crawl. His sniveling fell on deaf ears and his throat was now too weak to release screams. That thought gave her a wicked idea.

She wheeled him around carelessly and sat herself on the end of the bed. They both faced Grime and his wounded captive and her hands continued to clamp like a vice about the sides of the other's head. As the man's mouth opened to deliver another sob, however, both hands shot forward. Her right caught and held the upper set of teeth, those sharpened claws digging into the roof of his mouth. Her left slithered swiftly beneath his tongue and drew down his jaw.

Her lightning hued gaze locked onto the horror-filled expression of the wounded captive. Those lips parted to impart some means of protest. But, her muscles chose that moment to jerk, splitting his cranium and chops into two uneven and extremely gorey halves.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime watched it go back and forth, the excitement in Valeria's eyes, the shock and misunderstanding in the Mutt's eyes, and the dismayed despair in Nye's. To say the least, Hawkins was savoring it.

Blood sprayed into the air and he looked to the man underneath the edge of his sword. The man was sobbing, tears running down the side of his face, his lower lip curved out and the edges of his mouth turned down. Overall, it was not an appealing sight. Grime returned the grimace with the slightest of his own as he yanked his sword back and more blood slid into the air. Niles Nye fell face first against the bed, holding his neck with both hands to stop the blood pouring out. He was dead in seconds and Grime turned his face to the ceiling to make sure he could see the despair burned behind those eyes. Satisfied that it was there, Hawkins dropped the corpse and looked to Valeria.

He held out his hand for Valeria to place hers in it. As she did, he drew her from the bed and the mutilated corpse beside her. Bringing her close to him, his blood speckled face a breath from hers, she could see that even after all that, the events still weighed upon the frail thing beneath the shell. Grime was aware that such a vulnerability was visible but his presence demanded no less authority for it.

"Beautifully done."

His arm slid around her back, holding her against his metal frame, his steel hand ran down her back and along her leg, pressing against her skin.

"You'll need to collect your belongings and bring them with you. I want you near me always."

True, Grime did. Valeria's strength would not go unappreciated, nor her beauty to a certain extent. And if she responded better to a certain kind of attention more so than other kinds, if not more intimate, then so be it. Grime knew himself for what he bitterly was, a corpse in a wind up toy, and he almost wanted to just skewer her there and then for even tempting him. He knew his own weakness all too well and he ultimately hated himself even more for it. But it was that weakness that Grime would keep Valeria there, she was protection, a beautiful tool, like a wickedly and painfully designed knife.