Whew, this is gonna be a long one…
Christopher "The Killer" Miller
Characteristics: Light brown hair worn in a crew cut where the sides are just slightly shorter than the top, athletic, but slim build, green eyes, 185cm high, well kempt and mannered counter-intelligence/cleanup agent, speacializes in extracting info and forced disappearances. Wears a plain black hoodie with light blue jeans, sneakers and a mandatory pair of round shaped mirrored shades.
Location: No-Tell Motel on 17 Nw Atari Rd, room 112
Objective: Intercept and terminate clandestine operator
Name: Rachel Lumiérre aka "Muriel"
Location: 2 Alamo Street, Hotel Coral Essex, room 5042
Objective: Recover any information relating to stash of stolen data from Globoco Execs and terminate the subject
I walked up the stairs to room 5042 casually, checked my watch, 1800 hrs, I arrived punctually like I should. I knocked on the door, to which a soft female voice answered in a welcoming tone. "Come in."
I promptly entered the room and closed the door behind me, having hanged the "do not disturb" sign on the handle, I gently dropped my heavy sports bag and measured the scene.
"Muriel" was sitting on a bed, naked, her legs bent in a crescent beside her as she propped herself with her right arm. She took a most alluring position, it emphasised her exquisite bust quite very well. She knew her stuff. Her long brown hair fell over her breasts, covering her nipples, radiating shyness. Her gaze was that of a meek lamb, pleading for mercy, but ready to get none from the perverted sadomazochist she got hooked for tonight's trick. On paper that is. She was a dame to kill for, I could easily imagine her seduce the average pathetic suit, those hedonist fools will leak (among other things) their juiciest business infos to impress covetable courtesans like her. But not today.
"Parker is that you?" She asked smiling in confusion.
"Yes." I took off my sunglasses and put them down onto the coffee table next to the door. "I can't show up to dates in my suit, you surely understand that, don't you?"
"Of course." She kept her smile on.
"This is not how we discussed." I said in a disappointed, insisting tone. "You were supposed to be waiting for me shackled to the bed." I half kneeled and unzipped my sports bag, took four pairs of handcuffs and stood back up to face her.
"I'm sorry, Master, I thought I'd surprise you with something more romantic first." She lay back and started fingering herself. I realized what she was doing, she was provoking me to punish her, played along her role just fine…
"You are a bad little elf, you deserve punishment." I said as I grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her dripping slit, she gasped when I snapped the cuff around her wrist and fastened it until it dug into her skin. I played rough, did the same to her her feet, then her other hand. I stretched them out to the four corners of the sturdy cast iron frame of the bed, making sure she can't move. She kept heaving and moaning, her entire body was relaying signals of anticipation, her lustful, helpless gaze, erect nipples and by now thoroughly lubricated, ruddy and beautiful generative organ were all calling me to give in to her charms. Such a waste of talent and experience. 230 years… I almost feel bad for her, but I consider myself a proffessional, there's no room for pity.
I walked to my bag and brought it closer, put it down on a chair I dragged along. I fished around in it, looking in her eyes, she observed my moves with great excitement, which only faded when I pulled out a syringe and a plainly labelled vial of transparent liquid.
"What is that?" She asked. Fear noticeably seeped into her voice as she realized the gig was up, but was still secretly hoping it would be some party drug I want her to take.
"This is an enhancer to make sure you feel everything with tripple intensity, but stay awake at the same time." She started fidgeting against the restraints. "I'm prepared to make a deal with you, Rachel."
"Oh yeah?" She asked, her voice laden with bitter sarcasm. "How about I scream for help? HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!" Not a second later she yelled an ear shattering wail. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!! Then a second.
"SOMEBODY HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" I sat calmly beside her a stoic expression sitting on my face. When she noticed my lack of reaction, she stopped screaming.
"It's a soundproofed saferoom. Are you done?" I asked.
"Fuck you!" She spat at me that angry, rushed, dispersed spit of hatered. I didn't even bat an eyelid in response.
"So the deal is…" I pressed on the syringe to let the air out and shook it to make sure. Why I did this, I don't even know, was just a mechanical preparation. "I'll ask you about a stash of info you extracted from a Globoco exec, Charlotte Greene." I slipped the needle under the skin on her biceps. "If you tell me where it is, I promise to make it quick." Injected her then pulled it out and placed it on the night stand next to the bed. "If you won't answer me, or give unsatisfactory answers, I'll start removing bits and pieces of you, skin, nails, nipples, eyelids…" I stood up, pulled out a switchblade, slowly walked beside her while I kept adding to my list and caressed her shivering and sweating body with the tip of the blade down from her plump left breast to her left foot. "Ears? You got plenty of that…" I smiled.
"You know I can't do that…" She whimpered, curved her toes inwards when I reached her foot.
"You know you are going to die anyway. Why suffer in excess?" I asked her, standing at the end of the bed with the switchblade in my hands, a solemn expression across my face.
"I…" She was hesitating. I could see that she's afraid of pain and especially death. After 230 years one ought to cherish their lives.
Her excessive sweating was proof that the enhancer was kicking in. I decided not to dawdle and make my move, just inflict some light pain to make sure she understands what she's in for. I walked back to her head, got on the bed, took her between my legs and sat on her belly while I pressed my knee down on her arm to secure it. Her whimpering intensified with her fidgeting, by this time her actions only served to signal her panic and anguish, she definitely knew she wasn't getting out of her bonds. I cut into her arm, slightly above the point where I injected her and peeled a ribbon of skin from the top of her biceps all the way to her shoulder.
"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Her doleful wail echoed in my ear long after I was done with her, the first scream is always the most memorable one, reflecting on a fresh sensation of intense pain, coming from a body still full of energy, it's also where most rupture their throats and are unable to keep on, just gurgle and moan in a destroyed echo of a voice.
I watched her face contort with terror as I presented the ribbon of skin to her. She started puking, I quickly threw the piece of her away, turned her head sideways and made sure that she empties her throat. I also pulled away her hair with my other hand lest she soil it, still holding the switchblade between my fingers like it was a cigar. Yet again I don't know why I did these rather futile gestures, I guess I was still under her spell a little, she looked like an absolutely wild fuck. White foam bubbled forth from her mouth, no traces of food in her vomit. She cleared her belly beforehand, had possibly been expecting a wild throating.
"STOP, STOHOOOP PLEASE STOOHOOHOOOP!" She sobbed. Her voice was still soft, she was either pretending to be hurt or she had a really resilient vocal chord.
"The disks you got from Mrs. Greene, where are they?" I rephrased my question in a neutral, if a bit cold tone while I tied a turniquet around her arm to slow down her bleeding.
She made a well audible gulping sound as she swallowed whatever liuid was still in her mouth. "I…" She looked pleading into my emotionless eyes. "How are you going to kill me?" She asked, shutting her tearful lids close.
"I will inject you with a strong sleeping agent and then ziptie a plastic bag over your head."
"All right…" She said with a sour expression. "It's in a deposit at the Riker street Harvest & Trustee bank."
"Let's confirm that." I pulled out my phone and called my handler at the agency. "Hudson I got some intel from your girl, Muriel…" She watched me with a face of desperation while I talked to my superior, still sitting on her belly, ready to resume her torments if the info is bogus. "Well, Ms. Lumiérre, sadly, my boss just told me that Mrs. Greene caved and she pulled the lid off of everything about your deal." Her eyes widened in fright, she listened on in silence, her words were choked into her by fear. "He also said that the info you gave me was worthless and only served to buy time." Her expression slowly turned into a silent wail of panic and surrender.
"No, no, please!" She watched as I pulled a transparent plastic bag and a bundle of zipties from my bag.
"You were a bad little elf, you deserve punishment." I echoed my previous words, they took a rather twisted turn, but I saw no reason to go gentle on her and waste good sedative on a lying bitch. She was shaking her head madly, her long ears drilled into the pillow left and right, her ebony hair scrambled into a haystack, tufts stuck in her face and to her sweaty neck.
"NO, NO, NOOOOoohmmmmmmmmpf" I pulled the bag down onto her neck, made sure I got a long sleeve so it wouldn't slip out from under the ziptie no matter how she struggles, then zipped it shut below her chin and got off of her.
"Mmmmmmphfffffhmmmmmmpppmmmmmm!!!" Her muffled screams echoed in the silent room. Her body swayed wildly on the bed, her knees, torso and belly up and down, her ample breasts kept bouncing on her chest. She was banging and turning her head, in a vain and desperate attempt to get rid of the sack, which inflated and deflated at her mouth whenever she instinctively struggled for air. The cuffs tore into her skin, her limbs stiffened against the restraints, the bed creaked under the strain she put it through, her slender, shapely hands and feet turned purple and oozed blood where the metal of the cuff ground against them. Her abdominal muscles were outlined under her skin as she forcibly tried to breathe in. A stream of urine burst forth from her with a tremendous force and stained not only the sheets between her legs, but even the carpet in front of the bed, her body went all in.
Her strength ebbed in conjunction with the levels of oxygen in her lungs. Her torso fell back to a resting position, her breasts fell to the side like inert sacks of water, her head stopped moving and slowly slumped to the side. The constant wriggling of her arms and legs turned into a few occasional jerks as she slowly met her end. Looking at me through the plastic foil, she faded out, I couldn't see her blaming eyes from the steam sitting on the inside of the sack, it turned to an opalescent white color, only her ears and her nose were visible under it.
Mission accomplished. I waited for a few minutes, then unshackled her and took her to the bathtub, with the bag still on her limp head. Retrieved two bottles of the concentrated sulfuric acid and poured it onto her, then opened the tap just a little, lest its reaction with water throw the chemical out of the tub. Finally I switched the vent to max, admittedly I should have done this first, as the seering stench of the fumes were getting overwhelming in the room. Then I crossed my fingers, hoping that my department wasn't fucking with me when they said they installed an acid proof tub, and I won't end up pulling a Jessy Pinkman in a five star hotel.