Thread: Caught Red-Handed (Cheshire Smirk & Angel)

They were drawing nearer and nearer to the safehouse. When she reached the alleyway Rethiel ended any pretense of potential escape. Rethiel had allowed Rebecca to gain some ground, about fifteen feet or so before he'd played his trump card. A long, heavy cord with two round weighted ends was pulled from around his belt loops, spun through the air until it had proper momentum and then hurled sidearmed with practice accuracy. The bola flew true and wrapped itself in tight coils around Rebecca, ensnaring her from shoulder to calf. At any point in their little chase Rethiel could have utilized the bola to end their game of cat and mouse. Laughter overtook Rethiel as he stopped beside the downed woman, a fiendish smirk across his lips and a malevolent gleam in those crimson eyes. In one easy motion he bent down and picked Rebecca up, fingers wrapping around the cords that now had her bound in a nice little bundle. Rethiel slung Rebecca roughly over his shoulder and carried her down the alley, whistling to himself as he did so. The street she'd ran onto had been entirely devoid of life, Rethiel easily herding her away from the busier blocks and into a quiet row of music shops, pawn exchanges and other day-time only businesses. Now, no matter how loud she screamed there would be nobody to hear her. Feeling somewhat jovial Rethiel decided to do something he knew would burn Rebecca to her core. One hand raised open-palmed and...SLAP! A hard smack to the rear, fingers splayed wide to make sure that she'd have a lovely red hand print. Mid-way down the alley Rethiel stopped at that nondescript corrugated steel garage door. A quick code was entered into the keypad and then the garage door slowly opened and motion sensing lights flicked on, garage door sliding shut shortly after Rethiel stepped inside. All that waited behind the door was a very long set of wooden stairs, stretching down and back quite a ways. Down they went, Rethiel taking no care to stop Rebecca's head from bumping against the top of the staircase as he descended. The only sound as they went along was that of Rethiel's merry whistling, a sound that the assassin somehow managed to make threatening, the jolly tune a promise of imminent agony. At the end of the staircase waited a circular room with two hallways that branched from it. The room was large, about fifty feet in diameter and well furnished. A large screen plasma TV with receiver, two pool tables and a long L shaped couch that could comfortably fit ten or eleven people. A small bar was situated to the extreme left side of the room, well stocked shelves behind it and a minifridge on the bar-top. Rethiel dropped Rebecca onto her back on the pool table and made his way over to the bar. Rethiel took a small glass appropriate for mixed drinks from the shelf and then retrieved a carton of orange juice from the mini-fridge and some vodka. Once his drink was mixed and the unused ingredients returned to the proper place Rethiel swaggered over to Rebecca and stared down at her in all her lovely vulnerability. Unfortunately the pleasant observation was cut short when he noticed how her feet were bleeding all over his brand new and very expensive pool table. Oh, that just wouldn't do! Rethiel picked Rebecca up and turned her around, ensuring that her feet were hanging off the side of the pool table and her lips were firmly pressed against the small puddle of blood that had dripped down onto the soft green felt of the billiard table. Rethiel fully expected the woman to lick up the blood and kept a strong hand against the back of her neck, keeping her face in place so she couldn't do anything but wallow in her suffering. Lick it up. All of it you stupid woman. You are going to regret your attempted escape with every fiber of your being...Before punishment begins. This I swear.