"Right in the eye socket. Aim there."
Another three bullets dug into the body of the dead man, causing his head to shake on impact.

Lucy reloaded the gun and waited. Quite frankly, she was tired of shooting at Keelan. It was no fun after he stopped screaming. She needed a new target, more cries of pain, more fresh blood.

This bossy man and his thunder producing mirth did not make her happy.

"No, no." Alfendi stopped her, lifting her arm up a bit higher. "There. Now go on."

This was no fun.

She heard him sip some of his 'drink', giving little care for what she was doing now. So she pointed the gun at him.

"L-Lucy! Don't do that! The target's behind you." The mad man tries turning her back around, only to end up face to face with her, the gun right on his chest.

"I'm bored." She said plainly, the gun poking at his chest.

His blood-stained lips pulled into a smile. His wild eyes lead her to look up at he stood from his seat, setting down his 'drink'. "Don't be, Lucy. This is fun, isn't it? Yet you've grown unhappy, which implies that it no longer is." He pointed the gun away from himself. "I hope we can change this."

She fired, shattering his beaker of blood. Lucy still had murderous intent in her eyes.

But he knew she could never kill him.

She needed him.

Not for affection, the living space or anything like that.

She needed him for revenge.

You see, Lucy Baker wasn't a born killer like Alfendi, but a rough girl anyway. He had found her on the streets, broken, bloody, battered, and there was something about her defeat moved his gun away from her skull. Her desire to give back the pain to the ones who made her suffer in silence.

Her desire to kill.

Alfendi loved her for that.

"You're just going to have to wait, dear. We do what we must."

Lucy growled as he pulled her away from the target practice. He was not what she wanted. Alfendi's skill, what he did was what she wanted. She refused to believe or even fathom love for this man.

He was insane.

"Why are you so angry today, Lucy? Have your goals clouded your joy?"

She let her gaze fall, along with the gun into his hand. Why was she upset? She was bored, but she could have just said so. Why was she angry with him? His cockiness, guts, his gall to believe that the more blood he spilled, the safer he was from harm not his own.

Licking his lips clean of the red, he tugged on the sleeve of her lab coat. 'Your desire to kill shouldn't be wasted, dear. While you're not ready for selective murder, we can play a bit of pretend. Pretend the person strapped to the electric chair is someone you hate." He wove his words well and saw that excited woman return as she tilted her head to look behind him.

There's that smile, the need to kill, so unaware of the truth. Her destiny as a bringer of death. Alfendi knew that once she chose to follow him, there was no going back. She'd want more and even after she killed this next victim, Lucy would not be satisfied. She needed him, for more than one reason, for more than one life, for the lust of blood.

In her view, her 'imagination', Lucy saw Florence squirming through the binds, grunting as her efforts to escape became futile.

Of course, it was actually her, but Lucy was so easily fooled. "Go in, dear. Harvest the blood of your enemy." He cackled at this joke, lightning flashing outside as she moved closer.

The sickly lass hissed as she kept moving, harming herself slightly as the rough straps rubbed against her wrist. A small spark of electricity hit her shoulder. She looked up and flinched back into her seat. "Lucy! Is that you? Help me, please! There's a mad man in here that tried to-" she froze as she saw the man she spoke of behind the brunette, slipping a dagger into her hand. Florence didn't like where this was going, especially with that grin Lucy had.

"You want help?" The deluded woman hissed, "I'll give you help."

Alfendi watched as his lovely assistant dug the dagger into the woman's wrist, slicing through it.

She peeled the skin off, and the screaming, screeching, motivated Lucy to snap the bone of the wrist. Cut through the shoulder blade, uncover the bone, let the blood run forever.

Cries for help were silenced by a swift stab at the eye. Lucy couldn't get the dagger out of her socket, it was far too deep, but she wanted more. Her unstable mind grasped little more than the need for blood. Finger nails were her next choice, and she tried so hard to make the blood flow.

Lucy was so unaware of what she was doing, uncaring for her former friend's pain, and having so much fun.

There was no saving this girl from her murderous destiny.