Men and Monsters: Metempsychosis.

“So what was it you wanted to talk about, boss?” Blake said nonchalantly, a smug grin plastered on his face. The last few weeks had been nothing shy of glorious for him, having spent them thoroughly breaking and rebuilding Pinkamena. While it took longer than Blake expected, he considered his efforts an enormous success. He had pretended to have romantic feelings for her to help develop and feed her masochistic quirks. She had become even better than he hoped for, and he still had so much more planned for her.

Right before he could get to work, Igneous had called him into his office. When he entered, Igneous was sitting behind his desk like usual. His hands interlocked in front of him, looking right at Blake. He didn’t seem to be in a bad mood, but he wasn’t in a good one either. Blake, not entirely sure what he was here for, sat in the chair in front of the desk.

“Well, Blake, it’s been a month, so I want to-”

Blake immediately jumped out of his chair before slamming his hands on the desk, a panicked expression written on his face like he'd been given grave news. Igneous didn’t even flinch; this response was expected.

“WHAT?! There’s no way it’s already been one month! There’s still so much I need to do! Some techniques I need to teach her! Please, Igneous, I need more ti-“ Suddenly, Igneous quickly sprang up from his chair. He put one hand on the back of Blake’s head and another on his left arm before smashing his face into the desk, with his left arm behind his back and his right still on the desk. Igneous had no emotion on his face when he did this, no anger or annoyance, just a grimace that spoke more than words could.

Blake though had a glimpse of panic, surprise, and fear on his.

“Blake, I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely. This isn’t just some little pet project for you. This is deathly serious. This affects the entire Syndicate, so I won’t make any exceptions. I have everything going according to plan with how little time we have, and I won’t allow anything or anyone to mess it up! Your job, as of now, is finished. And since you had ‘much more planned’ for my daughter, I’m considering your job failed. I’ll just have to pick up where you left off. The only thing I want to hear from you is the status report, so I can specifically know where and how you fucked up. Do you understand?”

Blake was sweating bullets, struggling less and less the more Igneous spoke with the barest hints of anger. The longer he talked, the stronger his grip. There weren’t many things he was afraid of, but Blake knew better to cross Igneous, especially when it concerned business.

He managed to nod his head a little, earning his contractor’s release. Igneous sat back down as he did before, watching Blake collect himself before he did the same, fear-filled eyes staring back into cold, calculating ambers. No noise was made in the room; Blake too afraid to say anything.

“Well?!” Igneous spoke up, his tone grave with irritation. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or do you plan to look at me like a pissant? Speak up!”

If he wasn’t pissed off then, he definitely was now. Blake hadn’t seen him this angry for a long time, though he suspects it wasn’t entirely directed at him. With all his experience, Blake’s been very good at reading people. And he could tell something else was causing all this anger to bubble up like this.

“Sorry boss, just… don’t know where to start, y’know?” He awkwardly chuckled, trying to ease the heavy tension, slowly slouching down in his chair. His cool demeanor returning, doing his best to smile back at his boss.

“I mean, you were right about how defiant she was. I thought she would likely last three days, give or take. Surprisingly, she endured a whole week before I got to her! Pretty impressive for a girl her age. The last person I played with didn’t make it to five days, and he was a trained merc! Hard to pinpoint what exactly drove her. Whether it was hatred for you, me, or wanting to see her friends. Whatever it was, I haven’t seen willpower like that sin-”

Blake’s excitement during his explanation faltered at the sound of a long, annoyed sigh.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t even deliver me a simple report properly. This is just not your day, Blake,” Igneous scoffed. “I didn’t ask you if she was strong-willed. Of course, she is! Everyone has a strong will until you’ve broken their resolve with the right tools. I don’t care how you did it. What I want to know is how far did you go with her? Don’t leave out any details, and do try to stay on the subject, please.”

Blake gulped, once more uneased by Igneous’ ruthless attitude. Something definitely happened to get the old man riled up. But he couldn’t waste any more time pondering questions, not when he needs to give answers.

“It’s wasn’t anything special,” Blake insisted, clearing his throat. “I treat her the same way I do all my victims. Rape, abuse of all forms, coming up with new ways to torment her each day. I even injected her with a few non-lethal diseases to soften her up. Hell, I even gave her a high dose of arginine one day and left her there until it wore off. Probably what helped make her more cooperative.”

Igneous expression remained stern, but his perpetual glare wasn’t as harsh as before.

"Once we passed that step, I did exactly as you said. Despite my love for mentally and physically fucking up teenagers, I wanted to see just how far I could go with this one. Though, once I did… Things got weird.”

Igneous’ brows furrowed at the change in Blake’s tone, a skeptical look replacing his usual scowl.

“How so?” he asked.

Blake took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck and wiping some of the sweat off his skin.

“Well, you said you wanted her stripped free of her innocence and put together as a different person, and you got it. Admittingly, I had an idea in mind of who Pinkamena should be. A sadomasochist, a leader, an opportunist, a manipulator, calm, someone good at coming up with solutions through observation. Someone smarter who could act childish or dumb to gain advantages. It was the most specific and hardest job anyone’s requested of me in a long while, and I was up to the challenge!”

“When I started breaking her mind, it was…strangely comfortable. I was starting off with less complex traits, like masochism. I understand why that was easy, considering how much torture she already went through. It was probably easier for her that way. But, I’ll be honest; I wasn’t expecting Pinkamena to change that quickly. It was almost like she already enjoys people suffering. She learned and adjusted so promptly like everything just came naturally to her. And she wasn’t acting; I did tests afterward just to confirm. I don’t know how else to explain it!”

Blake sounded irritated, but he remained seated under Igneous’s precise gaze, nervously waiting for his response.

“I’m failing to grasp the problem here,” Igneous said calmly. “Even before you started doing your work, Pinkamena was already adapting to her abuse? That’s to be expected, as many from the family have become moldable people, well before their tests.”

“That’s what I thought too! But keep in mind, Igneous, most people don’t change like that without experience. She spent a month in the woods in solitude and came out extremely hardened. I know you’ve seen the tapes. We both know any normal cheery high school girl wouldn’t survive that. And yet, she did. I don’t think anything broke during her time in that forest. I think something was awoken that has been dormant until now. Call it a gut feeling, Igneous, but we might have a real monster on our hands.”

Blake was leaning forward in the chair, his eyes wide with excitement. His arms gripping the armrest tightly, almost like he could barely hold himself back. Igneous didn’t react, but not even his stone façade could hide the fire in his golden eyes.

Igneous leaned back in his chair, shifting his posture to rest his arms behind his head, closing his eyes to momentarily think.

“Is there anything else I should be aware of about her?” Was his response, deflating any thought or feelings Blake had.

“Well, overall, Pinkamena has all the traits requested. But, I didn’t focus on each individual one. So, some of them are strongly implanted into her mind, becoming a huge part of her personality. Others are barely holding on, if she’s shaken up a bit, they’ll fade away. But given enough time, she’ll become accustomed to all the trauma she’s suffered. Probably take a few years, but hey, the human brain is a complicated, unpredictable thing. Though, then again, we won’t be calling her human for long, right?”

Blake gave Igneous his signature cocky grin, even though his employer said nothing in response. His eyes remained closed as if refusing to acknowledge the elation Blake was going through describing his craft.

“What else,” was his response, earning a soft sigh.

“I think it’s a safe bet that she won’t become what you want,” Blake continued. “There are a couple more issues, like the sparks of defiance still burning within her. She seems fine with me or anyone else. I’ve tested to make sure. She behaves however I want her to and doesn’t try to defy me anymore. But, the second you’re mentioned? Any discipline I’ve taught her disappears, replaced with bloodlust and rage. The girls built up a lot of animosity towards you. On one test, I picked up someone that looked near identical to you and put them in the same room as Pinkamena. And… well, let’s just say they never came back out in one piece.”

A subtle twitch of Igneous’ mouth was noted by Blake, quirking an eyebrow.

“Gotta say, boss. Whatever she found in that cave did a real number on her psyche, awakened something almost… primal. No matter how much I try to suppress it, it keeps coming back… waiting. The bloke didn’t die but, he would have if I didn’t step in. But yeah… That’s the last I have to report.”

Blake put his hands back in his pocket; all the tension in his body disappearing. Hopefully, Igneous got what he wanted to hear because he had lost interest a while ago. What was the point in a conversation when everything was selective? Still, he was curious about what fueled the old man’s temper. Like Blake, Igneous did everything in isolation to preserve his secrets. So if anything of recent importance happened during his month of ‘playtime’ with Pinkamena, he hadn’t a clue.

“Good,” Igneous finally said. “Then there won’t be too much to deal with. I do have one more request from you, Blake. I want you to tranquilize her, or however it is, you prefer she be knocked unconscious. Make sure she’s clothed and on a gurney; you’ll find a couple in the storage room. Take her to the lab and leave her there... it’s his turn to play with her.”

Blake’s eyes dilated at the implications of who Igneous was referring to. Indeed, he was talking about their lead scientist. That deranged lunatic was the textbook definition of depraved when it came to his experiments and lab tests. All in the name of profound science.

Blake didn’t bother with a retort as he rose from his seat. He knew there was no point in trying to convince Igneous to reconsider someone else. He didn’t even respond when the old bastard cracked a smile. Blake just walked out of the room, heading back to where Pinkamena would be waiting for him, ending their time together.

The second Blake left the room, the smile on Igneous’ face disappeared. He quickly opened the drawer to his bottom right, revealing rows of yellow files with tabs onto to indicate their purpose. As if he instantly knew where it was, he pulled one random file out, pushing some stuff aside on his desk.

Igneous sat down and opened the file, scanning through the results of everything that happened during the month. One page contained a profile of someone, with three additional pages dedicated to describing them in detail. The first few paragraphs were theories and notes about who they were and their location, nearly identical to professional police reports.

Igneous skimming through his notes, looking for something specific before finding it on the last page. A large photograph, paperclipped over the top of the page, depicting a figure over the rooftop at night. Motion blurred the image, making the darkly dressed person even harder to identify. The only thing that could be recognized was a sniper rifle in hand, its shape almost blending into the figure’s cloak.

Drawn over their head was a red circle, a line branching towards the words ‘SILENT KILLER?!’. Below the picture was the last confirmed sightings, Igneous putting down the files as his mind raced with his own theories over the killer’s identity.

Blake had been wrong. Igneous wasn’t mad about what happened today. Moreso over the events that occurred over the last three months. At first, the killings had only been one or two every week. Then, for whatever reason, they spiked up in quantity and frequency, their targets more specific. Whoever the Silent Killer was, they had it out for both the Apple’s and the Syndicate.

Igneous was beyond livid. Never had anyone managed to kill members until now. The Syndicate prided itself on its intelligence and skilled mercenaries. And this anonymous assailant was making a mockery of everything he helped build. This was personal.

A smile cracked his features again, teeth clenched together.

“Oh, you’ll get what’s coming to you, I promise,” he spoke coldly to the photo. “I’ll make sure Pinkamena’s good and ready to find you. I want to see your face. I want to see the fear in your eyes when she tears you into pieces.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blake walked up to Pinkamena’s cell door, dread filling him for many reasons. He wanted to finish her; he hated unfinished projects. But he was mainly concerned about giving her over to ‘him.’ All the imaginable torture she already endured would be nothing compared to what that madman was planning. If Blake had succeeded in mentally changing her, ‘he’ would physically change her.

As Blake reached the door, he looked down into his right hand, a small syringe in it. He had decided to inject her, not in the mood to knock her out himself. He put the syringe in his right pocket before pulling back the slide on the door, looking in before entering. He didn’t see anything but darkness, but, honestly, he didn’t expect to see her. If he did, he would have been disappointed in himself for not teaching her right.

He slowly opened the door, fully expecting her to jump him. But, for once, Blake wasn’t smiling. He made sure to leave the door open, letting light pour through. His frown hardened. Usually, she didn’t take this long. But she does this sometimes. Blake gave a sharp whistle, something he knew she would always react to.

After waiting a few seconds, he could see Pinkamena out of the corner of his eye. The first thing he saw was her hair. Her long, silk-like hair. It had grown longer over the last month. Then, her face, her beautiful face. There were many kinds of scars on her face. Burn, cuts, you name it: some fresh, some old, but all permanent.

Blake looked into her blue, almost lifeless eyes. The fire in them burnt out, replaced with an abysmal emptiness. The final, and most important thing, was her smile. It was a widely stretched, sadistic smile, almost reaching both sides of her face.

The rest of her body slowly came out of the darkness, covered in the same scars as her face. It was all kinds of scars. It was almost hard to tell what wasn’t covered in scars. The more she came out of the dark, the more he became aware of her. She was on all fours, her body arches to show off her curves, like a cat. He couldn’t deny that he found it arousing, and as much as he wanted to, he didn’t have the time for that.

Her smile seemed to stretch wider the closer she got, making it harder for him to resist smiling. She came close enough for him to touch, which he wanted to, but he fought. He couldn’t give in, not now.

“Master! You’ve returned.” She said excitedly, seemingly happy that her tormentor was back. To assert and keep dominance, Blake inserted a master-slave relationship. And like everything else, she adjusted quickly. “Is it time for you to play with me again? You must be very eager if you got here early~! How do you want me today, master?”

Pinkamena talking with such enthusiasm about her impending torture like it was a date was too much for Blake. He couldn’t take anymore, unable to hold back the longer she kept talking. He quickly pulled the syringe out of his pocket and injected it into her neck. She gasped quickly, not expecting something like that. He was always direct with these things.

“Master?”

The last thing Pinkamena saw was the sad look on Blake’s face before passing out on his shoulder. He clenched his teeth, gripping the back of her head tightly. He wasn’t going to let her change, not after all his work. No matter what is done to her, she will always be his. He would make sure of that.