You Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?
14 Days prior to Minato's trials…
John Kramer stood adjacent to the open doorway, sifting through the contents of a manila folder, his eyes scanning thoroughly through the information contained on the pages within.
Off in the distance behind him was an occupied examination chair in the center of the room. Said occupant was none other than The Black Sekirei, #4 Karasuba. She was sitting motionless, with razor sharp blades jutting through her forearms and thighs, which were in turn held firmly in place by leather straps. They were tight enough to cut off a good portion of her circulation, thus preventing the little bird from bleeding out. The blood dripping from her limbs trickled down and formed a small puddle at the chair's base, which flowed along the cracks in the concrete floor and swirled into a metal drain.
Despite this, she seemed to be resting and at peace, only to begin stirring from her slumber with tired groans as she struggled towards consciousness.
Hearing the indication of awareness escaping from his captive's lungs, John's attention shifted from the documents and over to his latest subject. Even though he knew who he was dealing with, he was confident in his methods and preparations and so felt no need to hurry along. Flopping the folder back down onto the desk with the flick of his wrist, he made his way over to the small makeshift workshop in front of her, swiping his glass of orange juice from the countertop along the way with measured nonchalance.
The raven feather's gooey eyelids pulled apart, pupils dilating to accustom the bright, florescent lighting as it flickered right in her eyes. Blood loss kept her from simply breaking free even if her Sekirei constitution kept the slow drain from truly putting her in danger. Still, being wounded and bound was not a usual occurrence for the berserker, so it bore at least cursory questioning.
A murmur matching her exhausted expression gusted through her dry, tightly pressed lips. "Whe-Where am I?" She lifted her head to search for the monkey she'd heard walking towards her a moment ago.
Her eyes fall upon the restraints holding her left arm in place. She tried jerking her forearm up and down fully expecting her natural strength to prove superior and easily enough to free herself but finds that her limbs are useless on the grounds that the straps were fastened so tight that with how she'd been drained, she could do nothing but wriggle her arm weakly. This forced weakness drew a small but outraged growl from the swordswoman, her teeth bared in a rectus snarl.
"So," John started neutrally, pausing to down a mouthful of his beverage and internally giving a small smile at the taste, "I see you're finally awake."
Lifting her visage from her numb forearm, Karasuba glared daggers at her aging kidnapper, mentally going over the many horrific and creatively violent ways she could end his life. At the same time though, she was intrigued by him. Perhaps it was his voice, it just sounded so cold and calm, detached from any and all emotion...like the graves she had sent many a soul to. Much like she imagined the world would be after she burned it all to ash. Somehow, she felt that her time here would prove to be...interesting...to say the least.
So she remained still, and addressed him with an equally chilling tone, "So, I assume you're the one who did this to me?"
"No," he replied in his usual raspy tone, showing a complete lack of fear that made Karasuba raise an eyebrow,"You did this to yourself by taking the life of an innocent child."
Unmoved by his accusations she minutely shrugged, snorting as her lips curled into a slight grin. A grin that carried the weight of a memory that brought her to the brink of laughter, albeit dryly. With the thought fresh in mind, she broke the silence of the room, "Heh, you mean The Green Girl? I did her a favor by cutting her down. She wouldn't have lasted much longer in the Sekirei Plan anyway. It was a mercy killing."
...
Ever since...it had happened, Minato Sahashi had been a broken man...
...
She felt no guilt or shame at what she did, if the child was truly meant to be safe, Minaka should not have made her a full participant, and the weakling should not have winged her.
"The Sekirei Plan is a very dangerous game, yes, and her demise no doubt would have been inevitable..."
He downed the last of his drink before setting it back down on the table with an audible 'clack', then wiped away the excess with a dab of a kerchief he pulled out of his shirt pocket, "But you know just as well as I do that all that is required to terminate one of your brethren would be to place your finger on their crest, and recite the incantation. You, however, chose not to. You chose cold-blooded murder."
She scoffed scornfully at the condemnation, "Oh, please. She didn't suffer. Her death was instantaneous." Considering the fates many others had met at her blade, she'd been positively beneficent with the little brat.
"You viciously cut down a child in front of her very own Ashikabi and friends, and you did it with a smile on your face. Do you not think they're suffering?" John's voice was still flat and toneless, seeming more fitting for a bureaucrat checking off a list than a man questioning a child killer. Karasuba grew more curious about a human who could talk about such...'heinous' topics without being affected by them.
"Hmph." The Black Sekirei huffed with a mocking sneer, deciding to play with the monkey since she was currently well secured anyway, "I don't have to justify myself to you or your human morals. Get over yourself."
John inhaled deeply through his nostrils, holding it in for a good few seconds before releasing his breathe slowly and steadily. He grabbed an unobtrusive metal chair folded against a wall and unfolds it, taking a seat in front of his awoken subject. "You committed an ultimate act of evil, Karasuba: infanticide. Now it is your turn to feel the same pain and fear you have brought to so many others."
"You think I'm afraid of you?!" She laughs incredulously hanging her head and shaking it left to right, "You do realize I could have my freedom back whenever I choose, right?...as a matter of fact..."
Karasuba pulled at the parts of her arms that still had some amount of feeling in them in an attempt to break her binds; nearly succeeding. If it wasn't for the numbness, the process would have no doubt been excruciating even for one of such endurance as Karasuba.
"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Karasuba, for if you do succeed in escaping before partaking in my game..."
*BZZZT!*
An outdated television set hisses to life, causing Karasuba's head to jerk to the left and cease her attempts to gain her freedom. On the flickering screen was her Ashikabi, a shirtless and profusely sweating Natsuo Ichinomi, shown inside an elevator shaft and connected to an elevator car. John clearly had the man drugged out of his mind, drool and vomit slobbered all over his shaven chest to the point of encrusting the skin. His eyes were unfocused, his gaze far and distant as only heavy pharmaceuticals could make it. The Discipline Squad's Ashikabi's legs had been spread apart with his feet locked in place at the top of the elevator itself. Chains encircling his waist and arms tightly ensnared his body to the walls and ceiling of the shaft and his arms were extended via more chains and cuffs connected to his wrists.
"...the elevator will plummet, and tear your Ashikabi in half, which will, in turn, end your life as well."
The Raven Feather's unfeeling gaze shifted from the monitor and back to John's stoic features, her eyes empty as only a predators could be when looking at prey that had yet to die, "I see. So you just want me to sit here idly and bleed out, eh? Is that it?" Her body began tensing to spite the pathetic monkey that thought he could just make her passively let death take her.
"Not at all, Karasuba," he told her, causing the Sekirei to, if not settle, then not push further. "That would make me a murderer...and I despise murderers."
Karasuba's lips twisted in an ugly and condescending sneer, "Hmph, You have some twisted morals, old man. Release me and I'll kill you nice and quick." '...although slow might also be nice.' she thought though to herself, no monkey bound and bled her and lived to tell the tale, not Karasuba.
John Kramer stared off into space for a moment to presumably contemplate her offer, the idea of which made Karasuba giggle, then looked her in the eye once more. "I could let you go...but that wouldn't serve you." He leans in towards his captive, fingers lacing together casually in his lap as if negotiating at a business meeting,"I'll tell you what I will do, though. I'll give you a...tool...to reclaim your life. To discard the vices which have so corrupted your soul."
A cackling laugh spits forth from her lips. "I don't have-"
"A fucking soul?" he interrupted her dryly,"Those were the exact words of my first test subject, a grizzly drug addict by the name of Cecil. A child killer, Just. Like. You."
"Heh, so you have the experience I see," she pointed out, undaunted and insulted by her being compared to a pathetic and weak monkey drug addict. "I figured as much, but you don't seem the type to get blood on your hands, you don't have the stomach."
"We will see about that." Bending his knees, John arose from his seat and ignored Karasuba's attempts to rile him up, "I'll be back shortly..." As John made his way towards his workshop, he took a pause and glanced back over his shoulder,
"Comfortable?"
An indulgent grin distorted Karasuba's chapped lips. "Very." she retorted, making a show of settling in and being unaffected by her continued bleeding.
The Black Sekirei was interested in the fact that this "old man" was accustomed to inflicting such brutal torture on people and yet seemed to be offended by her own crimes. Whether or not his victims deserved it didn't concern her, all that mattered was that he willingly went through with these actions with no remorse or guilt...it was nothing like the spiteful hate that flowed through her mark from Natsuo, the petty revenge that stripling hid behind his smiling facade was nothing compared to the sheer control this nameless elder seemed to have over himself and his prey...it almost made up for the fact that he had the temerity to dare to make her one of them. Not enough to let him live, but enough to consider making him a toy for a bit.
John returns from the workshop with a cardboard box burdening his frail arms, although his expression remained just as fixed and impassive as before. Whatever the contents were they must have been quite heavy, considering the amount of dust kicked up and the loud thud it made when he dropped the box down at Karasuba's feet.
The Raven Feather leered at the box through the airborne specks of buildup in anticipation, eagerly awaiting her captor to reveal what was inside if for no other reason than to see what the human thought could possibly break her. John pulls a box-cutter from his back pocket and ran its sharpened edge down the air-tight seal, splitting the tape and spreading it open with a slow and steady scratching sound. Reaching inside, he withdrew the "tool" Karasuba assumed was meant to reeducate her...
There were fourteen knives, seven on each side, each tightly compacted in perfect rows with their blades pointing inwards to accommodate whatever was unfortunate enough to be placed on them.
The device itself was nearly identical to his first contraption from so long ago. But the symmetry was not limited to simply the make of the device, but to the person it would be used upon as well. Not only would she be his first test subject in Shinto Teito, much like Cecil was his first test subject in America, but the reason for her being tested were the same as well: taking the life of a child without remorse or guilt. Granted there was a difference between the subjects, even if it was slight. Whereas Cecil's act of infanticide was not intentional Karasuba's on the other hand, certainly was.
That's why this version had some...enhancements, to put it lightly.
Her eyebrows rose into her hairline, her expression one of...entrancement as her eyes centered on the device.
"Is that..." Captivated by the instrument of destruction, Karasuba nearly swallowed her tongue as she stared at it, her voice thick and her words almost unintelligible. "...the tool?"
"It is," John replied levelly, giving Karasuba ample time for her abnormally enthused inspection. "...I made it especially for you."
Karasuba's lips began to split and bleed from the force of Karasuba's wide-spread grin. "It's...fascinating..."
Unsure what to make of Karasuba's warped praises, he accepted her compliment with dry sarcasm. "Thank you. It means the world to an artist knowing that somebody out there appreciates their work." He made his way behind her, "tool" in hand. "Now..." He slammed the apparatus down before her face, the knives inches from her visage. "Let the games begin..."
Fastening the device to the chair and tightening its screws, John began his briefing, not even bothering to make eye contact with his subject, preferring to focus his attention on maximizing the screw tightness. "Your life is a lie, Karasuba...now comes your chance for repentance..."
Repentance. Karasuba had to fight the urge to laugh at the term, but the way John was going about his business kept her from doing so. She was becoming mesmerized by the way he delivered his speech, wanting to take in every sentence, every word, every last breath...although her bored, tired expression could conflict one to think otherwise. She'd heard a great many boring rants from Minaka, but unlike that fruitcake, this man's words were...captivating.
"...As a murderer and a psychopath..." The animosity in John's heart leaked through the pores of his face, eyebrows narrowing, teeth gritting, nostrils flaring as if the fumes of a rotting corpse were ripping at his sense of smell as he exerts more strength on the screwdriver. "...you PREYED on the weak and the helpless, to quench your insatiable bloodlust. Today...we're bringing the ugliness inside you out into the open..."
He continued as he stepped back, gesturing his index finger to the device. "Now in order for you to stay alive, you'll need to match your face...with the repulsiveness of your soul..."
The Raven Feather continued to ingest his every word, savoring them like a fine wine. A part of her wanted to repeat that she didn't have a soul, but an even bigger part of her was telling her to shut up and listen, that this human was one of the few that was worthy of her notice.
With the "tool" now firmly locked in place, John high-fived a button on the back of the chair. A panel rose from the floor, inches beyond where the knives were.
"Just lean forward...into the knives with your face. This mask has been connected to the mechanics of the chair imprisoning you. If you press your face hard enough into the knives in it, you'll release the arm and leg restraints...but keep this in mind."
He leaned in and whispered into the bloodstained bird's ear that was already straining to hear his words. "These knives are special, Karasuba..."
He backed away, starting to slowly orbit the accused Sekirei slowly but steadily, a normally effective tactic to disorient that fell flat against Karasuba's superior senses even with the blood loss. "Inside the knives is a highly corrosive acidic substance, which will seep through the edges more and more the deeper you press into them."
Taken off guard by his degree of depravity in torturing, a crazed laugh ripped through The Black Sekirei's throat. Never in her wildest imagination did she ever think she would come across someone as warped as she was, and yet so calm and collected, why it was positively decadent by her standards.
Ignoring her sickeningly amused cackling, he completed his briefing with brevity. "Press hard enough though...and you'll be free..."
Regaining control of her emotional outburst, she addressed her captor's words. "You are one sick, twisted fuck, you know that right?" A perverse grin cracked her facial features as her eyes narrowed even thinner, pupils locked to his. "I think I like you..."
John leaned into her ear once last time and whispered an alternative choice into her ear, mostly in consideration to form rather than any hope that she would take the offer. "...or you can just sit idly, and bleed out...on the floor. Just like you figured things would end." Pulling his dry visage away from her ear, he walks away, shooting a glance over his shoulder. "Live or die, Karasuba..." With the fate of his subject now in her hands once more, John sat back down in his chair and looked as if he was about to engage in watching paint dry, so blatant was his apparent apathy. "...make your choice."
Her glance shifting from John to the knives, she stared at them, enraptured by the florescent lighting glinting off the stainless steel. "Quick question before I begin: What's stopping me from spilling your entrails once I release myself?"
Although she had no intentions of killing the man once set free anymore, Karasuba's question was derived from her curiosity as to whether or not he had a plan to prevent her from doing so. She yearned to see how intelligent this filthy ape was. Which from what she had gathered so far, showed he was quite brilliant for a monkey at least, considering that he WAS capable of finding a way to not only kidnap her Ashikabi without anyone knowing but she as well, Karasuba the single most dangerous Sekirei in the game. (according to her, at least).
"Once free, you may go about your business as you wish...and if that includes killing me, so be it. But I would implore that you do the opposite, as once my heart rate flatlines, the life of your Ashikabi, as well as your own, will end simultaneously..." His next words more than piqued her interest. "...and your chances of coming face to face with #08 again will be forever lost."
"Wait, what was that?!" Once her rival's number was spoken, Karasuba's eyes honed in on John like lasers, black hope and vitriolic suspicion shining within them. "How do you know about Yume?! And what's this about being able to come face to face with her again?!"
"You want details?" he asked with the barest hint of a smirk flashing over his lips, not moving an inch beyond that as he goaded the ashen killer 'helpless' before him. "Play the game...and win."
There were now no more thoughts of hesitation in The Black Sekirei's mind (not that there were many, to begin with).
She pressed her face forward almost desperately, uncaring of the blades that she was driving willingly into her own flesh in pursuit of the answers John taunted her with, the knives drawing blood the moment her visage made the slightest of contact. To say that the knives were sharp was an understatement, however, the Raven Feather welcomed the challenge, pressing her face deeper and harder into the device, pushing the knives forward and apart little by little. The tightened screws holding them in place screeched and squeaked in accompaniment to the serrated edges digging into the bridge of her nose, cleaving her cheeks, and drawing sizzling furrows into her forehead. Blood oozed from the layers of lacerated flesh, running into her eyes, blurring her vision and setting her pupils ablaze.
She could feel the razor-sharp edges salivate their acidic mucus, further searing her facial tissue the more she pressed in, making them smoke with an audible hiss and spurring her on further in her single-minded self-mutilation. The mask's implacable resistance, although yielding slowly, was strong enough to infuriate Karasuba at the idea of the answers she sought being denied to her, of finding out if John truly knew anything about her, the one that proved all those words of trust and love to be nothing but lies. She tore through her once deceptively-alluring appearance with almost berserk determination, carving the inner ugliness of her soul upon her formerly fair facial features and sculpting her inner repugnance plain for the entire world to see.
The once stainless steel facade was stainless no longer. From deep in her chest, a shriek erupted from inside her gasping lungs as the acid continued to cauterize her now deformed complexion, burning away any hopes of any medical science having a shred of hope in restoring it. Layers of gore trickled down into her lap, soaking it with a bloody sacrifice to her rage and aggression.
She pushed harder, snarling as her struggle continued well beyond the limits of her patience, not willing to let anything stand in her way. She was Karasuba, the strongest of her kind, and like every pitiful excuse for a 'challenge' set before her,
this...
thing...
would...
FALL!
"AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"
And then...she was free.
The restraints released suddenly, retracting into the arms and legs of the chair the moment her mangled visage made contact with the button panel beyond the "tool", a button she hadn't even noticed beforehand so filled with rage she'd been. She collapses to the hard floor on all fours, chest heaving in and out with every grunt and grasping breath she took, her face covered by a greasy crimson mask borne of a mixture of sweat, blood, and acidic residue. Tears, however, were disturbingly absent. Her red droplets pitter-patter and dripped from her countenance into the ever-expanding puddle of bodily fluids below, rippling her new reflection in the dim light briefly as it joined the remainder at the bottom of the drain.
Karasuba's rebirth was...complete.
John just sat there as he had throughout the entire ordeal, neither smiling nor frowning with his arms folded across his chest and his head tilting to the side as he observed the transformation of his latest subject in the first breaths of their new life.
She panted her first words of freedom. "Thank...you..." words he had not expected.
A smile began to creep onto her captor's face, perhaps John was capable of changing this woman's views on her life as well as the lives of others, after all.
"How do you feel, Karasuba?" He asks in his same, neutral voice. "Do you feel changed by the experience?"
"Better than I've been in my entire life. I haven't orgasmed that hard since slaughtering those monkeys on Kamikura decades ago...and I have you to thank for that." She said with an eerily cheerful voice. "And I will be even better when you tell me what you know."
Those words made John scowl in disgust and his stomach churn in disappointment. A sigh blew through his lips as he felt the previous hope die a stillborn, but deep down he should have known that Karasuba was beyond all forms of redemption, especially after slaughtering one as innocent as the flower child. But he had to at least try out of mere principle alone. No amount of anguish or physical pain he could bring to this woman, nay, this...soulless harpy, would make her feel any semblance of sorrow or regret; and the fact that she was able to not only enjoy the pain but actually have it bring her to a sexual climax cemented this in his mind...but Karasuba's game was far from over even after the failure of her rehabilitation. No, this was just the beginning.
John meandered off into his workshop yet again and yanked down a rough blue towel from one of the metal racks before making his way back to Karasuba, who had yet to move from her kneeling position. He approached his captive, coming to one knee and extending his arm to offer it to her, putting his life in her next choice…
She grabbed it with a quick swipe, pulling herself to her feet as she bore the cloth down upon her visage, harshly smearing the blood from her face. With her eyes closed, she pulled the towel away, smirking as she exhaled through her gritted teeth and glided her tongue along the blood on her upper lip, spitting it out. Her eyes open, her bloodshot gaze meeting the reflection in the oval mirror before her, with John standing adjacent to it, his hands resting upon the smooth craftsmanship.
He glances at the glass, then back to MBI's dog. "This...is who you are." He waits for the Sekirei's reaction...it was not long in coming.
A vicious half-smile distorted The Black Sekirei's lips, the more she gazed upon her now warped and disfigured countenance. She began to snicker, which soon escalated into a cackling laugh of psychotic satisfaction that had John shivering despite his long association with such types as well as his own gruesome deeds. Whatever veil had lain over Karasuba's more inhuman tendencies had been ripped off by the torture, and John had to realize that whatever he was dealing with now was a whole new kettle of fish.
But it was not one that was completely unmanageable, he noticed. Even as she had broken, Karasuba's one guiding light, Yume, had still been on her mind. It was perhaps the last leverage anyone would have on the berserker now that Natsuo had been rendered helpless and a hostage. One does not bluff someone as...unhinged as Karasuba and expect it to go well, after all.
The laughter gave John a strong urge to retch, but he paid no mind to it, letting Karasuba get...this out of her system. As the unhinged laughter died down, he kept his end of the bargain. "Having passed your test, as promised, I shall assist you in coming face to face with #08 again...though in order for that to happen, there is another game you must partake in."
The Raven Feather's eyes became narrower as she seemed to look into his very bones for even the tiniest iota of a lie. "Is that so?" Her crooked smirk drew more blood from her sliced cheeks.
"Do tell."
"First, I offer you an alternative choice," John said, forcing his gaze to not linger on the many, many ravines and gorges created on Karasuba's face, "If you want, I can have one of my associates release your Ashikabi, and the two of you may leave with no more harm than you both have already had inflicted upon you."
"But~ ?" Karasuba asked leadingly, gesturing impatiently for him to continue.
"If you stay and continue to your next game and leave your Ashikabi where he is...well, I already explained the results of that choice I believe."
"That you did," Karasuba sneered sarcastically, her impatience growing more the longer this monkey dragged out her so-called 'choices, "What does this 'game' consist of?"
"I will require your assistance in putting my other tests together. Mainly in the sense of gathering subjects to rehabilitate as your credentials are suited best to that purpose. If you do, I promise you Yume. Not a flash of her return like was given at the bridge, but a full return of her personality for as long as she survives. You will have your dream a reality by the end of it all so long as you play by the rules and do as I say." Karasuba's head tilted suspiciously at the monkey's phrasing towards the end. She was already gathering this person played word games and wouldn't hesitate to trick her if she was careless.
"And how do you plan to coax her out of hiding?" she asks skeptically. "Even that hack Minaka couldn't pull that off. What makes you think you'll do any better?"
He raised his arm and pointed over to a bar stool set in front of a counter. "Have a seat and I'll show you." And stood up with his back to the gray-haired killing machine without a second thought.
He made his way over to the manila folder on the table as Karasuba took her seat with ill grace and more careless dripping of viscous fluids on the counter. He grabbed it and slid it over to the countertop down in front of her, the lack of friction making it slide into her hands. With her thumb and index finger nestled between the pages, she gently flipped it open to eye the subject matter. Inside were the top-secret dossiers and mug shots of the Sekirei Plan's participants, including the majority of Sekirei, Ashikabi, and the self-proclaimed "Game Master" himself. The excruciating pain in her face and eyes didn't even register through her analysis.
John pointed out one photo in particular, that of a twenty-year-old ronin student by the name Minato Sahashi. She brought the photo to her eye-level, her attention honed in on the familiar face in the laminated photo. Her eyes inspect his dark hair and gray eyes, bringing back memories of the day of Kuu's execution.
"The young man in the photo is someone you should know all too well." His voice seemed to come out of nowhere for the hyper-focused Sekirei, causing her to suppress a start.
She took a long breath, letting out a low 'hmph' before shifting her gaze back to John. "So, I assume you want me to kill him? Or perhaps bring him to you to torture as you did me?" She slapped the photo back down on the table.
"No," he stated coldly. "I do not condone murder, and you best remember that if you long for #08. I need you to find this man and bring him to me unharmed and unspoiled. You may render him unconscious but do not hurt him in any way. Doing so will forfeit your Ashikabi's life, as well as our deal."
Karasuba gave playing John's twisted game genuine consideration, the wheels in her head turning furiously. She knew that Yume's spirit was inside Musubi, and would take control in an extreme situation, but that was only for brief periods of time as the naive fool didn't want to hurt the child she'd merged with. What situation could be more extreme for a lovesick fool like her than her Ashikabi being in mortal danger that she would put Musubi's life at risk in order to stay active? But how he would do it is what she really wanted to figure out.
With those considerations in mind, Karasuba commenced with making a decision that would affect many lives in the future...and change the fate of all within the purview of the "S-Plan" for good,
"Very well," she said, her face holding something both anticipatory and serene in her expression, making for a bizarre contrast to John's eyes. "I will do as you ask...but first, I would like to know the name of the man I'm working for. The man who just...branded me, as his own."
He inhaled through his nose and shifted his gaze to the corner of the room before meeting her eyes once again. "Although I have never once ended a person's life, the general public refers to me as 'Jigsaw'...but my associates simply refer to me as John."
She chuckled under her breath. "Well...'John'...since we are now 'associates', do you mind filling me in on why we're kidnapping Mu-chan's Ashikabi?" She gave a long pause before going on. "...not that I care, mind you, I'm just curious as to what you want to do with him is all. Is it anything like what you've done with me?"
Her smile grew sadistic at the idea of the bumbling boy having to endure a tenth of what she'd just gone through, his imagined screams music to her ears.
"I would rather keep my motives to myself for the time being. Let's just say my plans for him are much more...elaborate than what I had in store for you. Suffice it to say that for my plans to go into effect his involvement is crucial. Prove to me that you are trustworthy, however, and I might specify in greater detail."
She shrugged her shoulders lazily, she was no stranger to 'need to know' and while this monkey might play word games, he obviously kept the letter of his word. "Fair enough, I suppose, as long as you do follow through on making me aware of the details later on. When do you want for me to strike, if you need the kid you're going to have to get him at very precise times during the day thanks to that cunt having a stranglehold over her 'territory'?" Her expression soured at the very idea of Miya and her hypocritical act of purity and goodness, making Karasuba spit in disgust, the bullet of acidic saliva immolating through the counter.
"According to my sources, Mr. Sahashi's shift should be ending within the next two hours. He works at an understaffed construction site, so apprehending him without attracting attention shouldn't be too difficult."
"I know the place. I often perch myself on the highest building there to stalk the potential prey below for hours on end..." She filled her lungs with a deep breath of stale air, holding it in before letting out a pleasured, almost orgasmic sigh. "...it gives me a...warm...feeling inside."
But her pleasured expression faded quickly,
"Problem is, he's rarely alone these days, even with Miya having put them on a curfew to 'protect them', the kid has at least one of his flock with him most days. Grabbing him at the job site will be more effort than worth if you ask me."
Despite his reluctance to work with this woman, John knew that he had no effective choice in the matter. Karasuba's skill and overall credentials in her fields of expertise were unmatched, and that was something he needed in order for his plans to finally come to fruition. As deplorable as her actions may have been, Minaka's were far worse and in order to carry out his actions against him, John needed the best at his call.
The Black Sekirei's sadistic tendencies would doubtlessly prove useful, as she would no doubt carry out every order he gave her without feeling any amount of sympathy or regret, although he would have to be careful not to let her 'get lost in her work' as Minaka had spoiled and enabled the woman enough already to make her a better weapon, furthering her descent into madness and bloodlust. John allowed himself to waste a moment in idle musing on what kind of woman Karasuba could have been if things had been different, but like all such daydreams, John banished it from his mind as pointless and focused on the woman Karasuba was instead.
With a soft sigh, John reached down under the counter. "On the off chance you are spotted though..." John pulled up a cardboard box from one of the cubbies and set it on the counter between them.
He tore it open, pulling out a disturbingly realistic pig mask with thin layers of long black hair, a red wrestling robe, and black leather gloves. "...this disguise should keep them from recognizing you."
Staring into the swine's beady little eyes, she smiled sarcastically. "Aww, how cute." This wouldn't fool anyone with any real knowledge of her movements or fighting style, but considering Miya would keep it quiet out of the desire for peace at all costs unless there was no other choice, it should suffice for the rest of the boy's little hatchlings.
A second, distinctly masculine voice pierced their eardrums. "Not the word I would use to describe it, but it should suit your efforts effectively."
Both their gazes shifted to meet their visitor; a professedly calm male wearing a white lab coat with short-cropped blonde hair atop a bespectacled head.
John addressed him almost cordially. "Ah, Dr. Gordon. We didn't hear you come in." Extending his arm he motioned to the open stool only a short distance away from himself and Karasuba.
"Please, have a seat."
"Certainly," Gordon said as he sat down, leaning his arm on the table facing Karasuba. "I see our new enforcer has finally woken up."
'Enforcer, eh? I like the sound of that...' Karasuba tilted her head back to John, raising an eyebrow. "Another one of your associates, I presume?"
Dr. Gordon introduced himself. "I'm John's personal doctor and assistant." He extended his hand towards the mutilated woman.
"Pleased to meet you, the name's Dr. Lawrence Gordon."
She stared contemptuously at the gentleman's gesture, making no effort to touch it, let alone shaking it, "Likewise."
Dr. Gordon lowered his hand to his side, awkwardly.
She ripped the disguise off the table, leaving behind the gloves. "Now if you excuse me..." She stood up and whipped the robe onto her shoulders in cape-like fashion, tying the leather belt in a knot as the flapping died down.
"Leaving so soon, Karasuba?" Dr. Gordon questioned her worriedly, he might work for a sociopathic madman but that didn't mean infection wasn't a concern for the woman, alien or no. "There's still time, I could tend to your wounds if you'd like."
"There's no need." she snorted, offended that the newer monkey could even conceive that she might succumb to such paltry wounds.
"Besides," She said archly as she glanced back at them. "I'm rather fond of my new look."
'This is one crazy bitch,' the doctor thought to himself nervously, his eyes involuntarily drifting from left to right as if trying to plot out an escape route. 'Damn, John, you sure know how to pick 'em.' He responds to her decision.
"I-If that's how you feel, go on ahead. I'm not stopping you." Karasuba gave a sneer of satisfaction at how cowed the man was, evidently this 'John' was very much the exception in terms of being able to stand up to her.
As she made her way towards the exit, she gave one last look over her shoulder at the doctor. "Wise decision." The way she delivered that line sent a wave of shivers through Dr. Gordon's body.
John called out to her as she began to leave. "Karasuba..."
She halted in place, turning back towards her new employer. "Yes?" Her ragged eyebrow rose sardonically.
John reached under the counter, pulling out her nodachi. "Don't forget this." He tossed it to her underhanded the blade making a slow arch towards its wielder.
She swiped the hilt of her weapon of choice from the air and slipped it into her robe with one swift motion. "Don't ever do that again, or agreement or no, I will kill you. This blade is worth a thousand of you pathetic monkeys. A thousand for every day I've dreamt of killing Yume."
Nervous of John's decision, Dr. Gordon whispered to him through his grit teeth, "What the hell are you doing?!" He couldn't decide if he was more freaked out by John giving the weapon back to Karasuba at all or how he'd nearly offended her into chopping them to chutney.
Ignoring Gordon's understandably panicked outburst, John bade his latest subject a temporary farewell. "Good luck, Karasuba. We'll be waiting." He showed no awareness of how close he had been to death in that moment, a fact that seemed to impress Karasuba if he was to be any judge.
She strode through the door without another look back, already tired of lingering here rather than getting started on her reunion with Yume. "This..." A bloodthirsty grin then washed over her lips.
"...ought be fun."