Topic: Sandrine ? Saint of Killers

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-02-11 11:33 EST
The West End. The dirty part of the city. The evil part of the city. Where the everyday is what in any other area would consider a bad day. And a bad day well" Just hope you don't get caught in a bad day. But tonight' There was someone new, stalking the bad guys who dwell in the darkness here.

Most people don't want to even touch the problems in the Westend. That's exactly the sort of trash Sandrine ends up picking up. You wouldn't think anyone would opt for this sort of job - that it would just be assigned to the unfortunate soul who got left with the last available task. But Sandrine actually liked her work. Guess we were all made to do something.

There was a man lurking behind some miscellaneous object in the shadows below. She could smell the blood on him from up here. This was the type of guy that chose his victims from among the weak. The elderly woman who was always giving you chocolate, the young girl who was sneaking out for a bit of excitement from the thrill of actually doing something "wrong" or so they say. Or people handicapped in other various ways. The irony in this is he was not weak by any means (except maybe in his mind), she could see his posture and the way he carried himself. He was probably quite strong and capable.

Many thoughts were drifting up to her like the fog of warm breath in the cold night. He was reveling in the precious memories of his victims. That's right, tonight rather then getting off on these cherished moments " they were condemning him. A real prince this one, he had left his last victim alive and bleeding to death somewhere she was not likely to be found. Sandrine could have gone to help her" But her job was not to treat the symptoms as some healer might. No. Her job was to cure the illness. To attack the problem at its source so there would be no more casualties.

His anticipation was high, expectations were to find another woman to brutalize before the night was done. Sandrine had seen enough, enough to make even her feel sick. It wasn't that she had a problem with murder. There were plenty of occasions it was called for. Just the way that some went about it....She specifically hated those who picked on the innocent and the weak. But unfortunately, they were quite common. Whatever world you went to you would find it was the same.

Wings extended suddenly from her and she swooped into a dive like a bird of prey. No one saw. No one heard. The only thing giving away her supernatural essence - her eyes, which were almost glowing green. They always gave away when she was about to strike " if you were looking. His senses should have been on full alert. As it was it seemed he would give her no real fight.

The black adamantium claws would extend from her hands at just the right moment. He never saw it coming, never heard a thing. Never sensed he was in danger. Next thing he knew he was impaled on her claws and found himself being lifted into the air. He gasped for breath as he looked down at the claws that went straight through him - lifting him to the air by the wounds through his shoulders. The gun (which had not concerned her in the least) that he was intending to lift useless in his hand. It just dropped to the ground as he lost consciousness.

Perfect. Now she would have time to take him to an undisclosed location for some alone time. He didn't give her a fight yet, but he would atone for his sins. Let him enjoy these last few blissful moments of unconsciousness. He would not know such peace again until the release of death came to free him, she would see to it.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-02-13 12:31 EST
Sandrine " Rhy"Din's newest vigilante killer - had gone to the West End again in the hours before dawn. She really had a particularly bad night and was looking forward to working off her aggression on someone who truly deserved her rage. But it was not to be, not on this night.

Before she had located a truly worthy hunter to turn victim she had received her sister's mental call. It was a forced calm she heard and she would waste no time in going to her aid. The people would have to fend for themselves on this night. She wasn't going to kill anyone on the day her nephew was born.

But there would surely be more to come. As long as there were people committing atrocities, she would be right behind them. The even vigilant shadow of those who stalked the innocent. The stalker of the stalkers as it were.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-02-27 09:48 EST
Sandrine roamed the streets of the West End in the hours proceeding the dawn. This was when she generally did her hunting. Between the hours of midnight and four was her time.

The night was silent on this evening, almost like the creatures that made this place their home had quieted like any animal would when a predator was near. She found a perch on a building surrounded by some dark alleys " always good places for crimes. Those eyes of hers penetrated even the darkest of dark and sure enough they located a man lurking in the shadows up to no good.

He seemed to be negotiating some sort of drug deal with a reasonably attractive woman there in whispers. Drug dealers weren't exactly the type of criminals she looked for. But on occasion they proved themselves to be guilty of far more than turning people into mindless addicts for profit. That was bad true, but she looked for the really bad. Only the worst types were worthy of her wrath. She was about to move along when the man pulled out a gun suddenly. It was so practiced of a movement for him that no thoughts had even proceeded the action to alert Sandrine to his intentions.

Her eyes immediately shifted to green, a bit of a supernatural glow to them. He instructed the woman to not make a sound or he would shoot and to turn around. The woman's eyes went wide with fear and she did not hesitate to listen to him. Sandrine could have moved then but she did not want that gun to go off by mistake or intention. She did shift to her other form, her eyes flashing black for but an instant as she did so in complete silence. From her perch she leaned forward and a low growl emanated from her throat as the man knocked the woman out with a very sudden and strong hit upside her head.

If he had simply been going to rob the woman he might have made it home alive on this night " though she would have at least beaten him severely. But she saw coming from him the terrible thoughts as the man bent over and collected her money. He contemplated doing some unspeakable things to her before he handed her over to' slavers? Not Sandrine's favorite people.

She could tell this was not the first time for him either. Whenever the opportunity arose he would beat and rape women. Of course, the only thing that made him hesitate was the thought that he might get less money for her if he wasn't careful. This seemed to be a new arrangement he had made.

Even in the dark she saw the evil smile on the man's face as he shifted the weapon in his hand to count the decent quantity of money that the woman had been carrying. Taking advantage of his distraction she went into a dive, black adamantium claws came through the flesh of the backs of her hands. She ran straight into him, foot first and sent him flying into the brick wall of the building next to him. He managed to stay conscious but had dropped the money and the gun. Of course he had a switch blade out in a flash but Sandrine was too fast for him. Her claws went into his shoulders and tore through the muscles, rendering them useless. The knife fell from his hand as it went limp. At this point he realized he was really in trouble and opened his mouth to scream but anticipating him she kicked him again, the claws sliding from his flesh once more, back into the wall behind him. He finally crumpled to the ground and she easily lifted his body and took flight once more.

She took him to a location not far from there. His clothing was sliced to ribbons with one of many blades she had on a metal tray. He was strapped to an operating table of sorts in a room that had a hot fire going in it. She placed a metal poker in it and waited for it to heat up. She was going to be taking her time with this one.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-02-27 15:02 EST
Sandrine lifted her red hot poker in her hand by the handle with a smile that held all sorts of malice. She approached the table with the man who was still unconscious. He would not remain in his blissful sleep for long though. Ever so carefully she placed a hand to his chest, firmly to hold him still while the other brought the poker to his flesh on one of the puncture wounds in his shoulder. The flesh sizzled, his eyes shot open and he awoke with a scream.

She took a step back and looked at him with a quirk of her head. "Does that hurt?" Was questioned of the man in a tone that could almost be mistaken for one that cared, her expression turning to one of mock concern. He cursed her loudly in response and she simply smiled once more.

"Now, now" Was said with a tsk tsk of her free hand. "That sure is no way to talk to a lady. But I don't suppose you would know anything about that." A heavy sigh was given as she shook her head. "Can't you see I am trying to help you? If you don't let me do this you just might bleed to death and that would be a real shame now wouldn't it?"

Of course it really didn't matter how cooperative he felt like being. If he did not hold still it would only cause him more pain. The room was getting hotter if that was possible. With the fire heating it' It was probably near 95 degrees inside there but this did not bother Sandrine. Extreme temperatures took a while to bother her even just a little, the man on the other hand was sweating pretty badly now. She wanted him to be as discomforted as possible. Much as she enjoyed her work, she didn't want to torture him for too long. Just as long as it took for her to be satisfied he had paid for his crimes. Simple and painless death were just too good for the types she tangled with.

By the time she was done with the wounds in front he looked half out of his mind - this was good. The back of his shoulders she didn't really care about, she actually was pretty sure he would not bleed to death at all and certainly not likely before she was done with him. This was all just her getting warmed up. First she would replace the poker in the fire, she would need it again. She reached for a wicked large, curved, black knife. All nice and slow so he could see every second of movement she brought it to his face. Pausing with it just underneath one eye she looked at him with complete cold apathy.

"Now listen, I don't mind killing you in the least. I've already seen more of your misdeeds than I care to, but for the sake of your soul I'm willing to hear them all. And the more you hold back, the more I am going to hurt you." A wicked smile spread across her face. "Just think of me as a priest. You confess to me everything and your soul might just be saved." His soul perhaps, his body though is doomed. She would not lie, just it couldn't hurt none to leave him under the impression he might make it out alive.

The man told her to go to hell, even with a blade being held in a steady hand but a hair from his eye. She pulled back with a disappointed shake of her head. She turned to the tray with her instruments on it with another sigh. "Well, I gave you a chance." When she turned back to him the knife - which was more for intimidation's sake than anything - was gone and a tourniquet was now in her hand. "What part of your body should we take first, hmm' What do you think?" He started cursing her again and she shrugged. "Soon you will learn to answer my questions."

First she started with his trigger finger. After the tourniquet was good and secure she lifted out a sharp scalpel. She held the hand with her free firmly and placed the scalpel to the middle knuckle. "Now I know you've destroyed many lives but just recall for me for a minute how many lives you have taken with just this finger right here alone." He replied none firmly, in a fairly convincing manner. She might have almost believed him but her talents would show her otherwise. These games would never have worked without her ability to read minds.

Images came to the surface of his mind clear as day. The first one was a child that appeared to be about four years old who had been killed on accident it seemed " caught in the crossfire's of a gun fight he had gotten into. The intended victim she also saw he had gotten was a rival drug dealer. The next was a kid who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen years old. Another was a woman who had fought back against him when he had been trying a similar stunt as he had pulled tonight. So in addition to all the pain and suffering he had brought to others he had killed at least four people and one of them clearly was an innocent.

This was good enough for her and she proceeded to slice down to the bone. She then got out a new tool, a small bone saw and she soon finished the job. Next she retrieved the poker out of the fire and cauterized the wound. She then waited a few moments for his screaming to die down. Casually examining her painted black nails as she waited.

"Hurts doesn't it' It's only going to get worst from here though if you don't start cooperating. Let us hear some confessions." He agreed to tell her everything and started admitting to various crimes. From drugging women and when they were helpless taking advantage, to beating his girlfriend, to robbing people. He seemed almost like he was fishing to figure out how much she may or may not know already.

When he claimed that was it she shook her head. "I'm afraid I know for a fact you have committed far worse acts than all that." He began pleading with her as she went for the thumb of his opposite hand. "I'm sorry but you should know better than to lie to me. You will have another chance to tell me the truth - the WHOLE truth - when I am done with this."

At this point I will spare you the details, but nails and appendages were removed for a time before he got to the worst stuff. Every time he would say that was it and she could still find any hesitation in his mind that he was holding something back she would proceed to torture him. It could have gotten even worse but this one was willing to spill all after he realized he wasn't going to have even the sweet release of death until he had told her everything. She had many methods of torturing people, she liked to mix things up a bit from time to time but this one was not worth any special attention.

Finally once she was satisfied he had told her every last detail he could, given his present state, she would quit. She retrieved a syringe and came back to him, her expression solemn. The needle was stuck into his neck and he was injected with an overdose of a drug that would promptly take away whatever pain he was still coherent enough to feel and would kill him in short order.

"Your sins have been forgiven, you can rest in peace now." Then she took out her last tool, her rosary and said a prayer over him. This was when they always knew they were going to die and thoughts of whatever poor souls cared about these wretches would generally come to their minds. This man had a child whose image flashed through, as well as a mother it seemed. The last victim had literally had no one.

In these cases where there were folk who cared what happened to one of her victims always left her in a bad position. Seeing that the remains were not found would leave them agonizing forever with not knowing and hopes they were alive. Finding their bodies had been tortured and dismembered wasn't a whole lot better. Luckily she had dealt with such a situation on more than one occasion so she knew exactly what to do. There was a way to confirm their deaths to their relatives without them being able to determine how terrible it had truly been.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-04-14 01:05 EST
There hadn't been any word from the Saint of Killers since the head of her last victim had been discovered at the watch headquarters. Sometimes when someone who was particularly nasty would disappear the people would attribute it to the mysterious vigilante. But in truth she had been taking a little time off from her job.

Sandrine was tired of chasing petty " however brutal " thugs and low lives. With her abilities your garden variety bad guys didn't stand a chance. She had started pursuing the monster known as the Zodiac for this very reason. He clearly had powers that would require far more than luck for you to survive an encounter with him. That of course was if you could even find him in the first place. He seemed impossible to catch and this made her even more determined that she should be the one to put a stop to his senseless murders.

On this night, as she had on so many others, Sandrine would stalk the West End. Echoing through her mind, like the whisper of the wind in her ear, was her only clue the whereabouts of the man. "The Zodiac lives in the warehouse section; it is there he is feared the most." All her investigating had yielded nothing thus far but she would keep searching.

Her encounter with The Man in Black had not deterred her really. He had almost caused her to reevaluate things some. But after everything she had done already, it would take quite a bit to cause her to turn from this path. Sure, it was a path she had been sort of pushed onto but she had walked it without hesitation. It was something that had to be done and she would not let fear or doubt infiltrate her sense of purpose.

The man had stated that everyone deserved a second chance. As far as Sandrine was concerned though those she killed would not be redeemed no matter what. Perhaps he had found a method of saving people that did not require death. She would believe that when she saw it.

No, it would take more than that to shake her resolve. Sandrine had not just been given this task, her immortal life depended on her continuing this gruesome work. Anyone who wished to harm the innocent in this part of town had best make sure it was worth the risk. Her eyes would be watching, ever vigilant in seeking the next candidate worthy of knowing true wrath to cross her path.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-06-30 22:23 EST
Blank eyes stared up at the ceiling. These dark brown eyes were two of the most beautiful eyes ever worn by a woman. Unfortunately right now they were but a shadow of their former glory now. All her intelligence, her heart, her soul had once given those dark eyes such a light. Now" It was hard to tell if they belonged to one of the living or the dead.

The young woman was tied to a bed, her arms and legs bound with rope which had once cut into her flesh when she still had it in her to struggle. It was clear from that vacant expression though that such far fetched ideas as escape no longer even seemed a possibility. Where her mind was, only a mind reader could have told you. There weren't many cohesive thoughts left, she was maintaining a tenuous hold on life by escaping within herself to a place far away from here. To a time which had passed and somehow ended with her in this position.

Her captor" He was her husband. Why would a husband need to exercise such brutal methods upon a woman already bound to him by law" It really wasn't so hard to figure out. The man was one of those real low life scum bags that the Saint of Killers stalked. If he had perhaps been a higher quality of evil he wouldn't have needed to beat the spirit from his woman to get her to stay with him. Whether he deserved her or not he could have at least been more creative. Who better to judge him then the girl who solved all problems with violence and brute force"

It seemed the man had kept his hold over this girl, name Samantha, through fear and abuse. Somehow she became convinced that this was a proper way to deal with a woman such as herself. It is hard for some people to imagine how a person can hate themselves so much that they could truly believe they deserve to be treated thus. Not for Sandrine though, not that Sandrine hated herself but she did understand the feeling. Perhaps she had just seen it enough in the past to know that those who hate themselves the most are often the ones who deserved better than they had gotten. Usually their hate stemmed from some irrational idea that bad things had befallen them because of something they had done, whether it was in this life or a past one.

Sandrine knew the truth though. Bad things just happened, to good and bad people alike no matter what good they did or who they were. A man could be a total parasite his whole life, doing nothing but taking and feeding off of better people around him and never know such suffering. Or a man could be the most hard working, honest, and helpful human to walk to earth and be crucified on a cross.

It was Sandrine's job to make sure that everything in her power was done to equal the balance a bit. Her twin sister Rose had taken on the task of healing soul's and bodies without accepting a thing in return" And Sandrine closed off whatever heart she had to dedicate herself to her own task. This was to make sure that those who preyed on the innocent would "get theirs" so to speak. Perhaps she did take some sort of sick joy in this job. When you were dealing with the type of people that she was though, it was hard not to appreciate the opportunity to see those who inflicted suffering upon others got a taste of what it felt like. That they should have an idea of what pain really meant before meeting their end. Yes" She did take pleasure in the pain she caused sometimes.

The Saint of Killers stood in shadow staring at the house for a long time. The girl inside may not have a hope at living after this, it was hard to say. Being forced to live under the conditions she had" Well some spirits just don't bounce back from that. She could only hope that the longing she felt inside of Samantha for a time in life when things were good" Meant that she wanted it with all her heart and was still willing to fight for it. What she needed was hope that she could make it out of there alive to be able to find it.

A chill ran through the bones of the Saint, though she gave no sign of it, now was not the time to quiver. She just couldn't help but feel this particular case was going to be more complicated than she had anticipated. She had been stalking a number of targets - some far more interesting than this fellow - but she had determined this to be one that had to be taken care of now.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-07-01 16:58 EST
Sandrine appeared in the room which had become Samantha's own personal version of hell. This place had a darkness to it despite the last rays of the setting sun pouring in through the windows. The air was so thick you couldn't have cut it with the sharpest of blades. Anyone sensitive to energy might have curled up and cried on the spot due to the overwhelming pain that filled it. It made you feel the urge to just lay down to die, it had a crushing despair that permeated straight to your soul. One thing Sandrine had to give the man, he had done well in making sure that the situation appeared completely hopeless for his wife.

If Samantha had noticed the arrival of the Saint she gave no signs of it. She continued to stare up at the ceiling. Clear as day Sandrine could see the people who were the only light the young woman could see anymore. One was a man from a previous marriage. He was strong but gentle and had beautiful eyes of blue-green like those clear tropical waters Rose was so fond of. Though it seemed he was dead, Samantha drew strength from his memory.

The other made the situation more complicated. The other was a little girl who couldn't have been older than two years old. She had the hair of her father, a light auburn color that was reminiscent of the rays of sunlight. But she had the dark soulful eyes of her mother. The name of this child was Lily. This child was near by. In the other room Sandrine could hear her now begging for attention from the man who had taken her and her mother in, the man she looked at as a father. Why would this woman stay in an abusive relationship with a man when she had an innocent kid to think about'

"Who are you?" The girls voice was strained, as though just speaking took a lot out of her. Her vapid eyes stayed fixed upon the ceiling. "I am an angel come down from heaven to deliver you from this hell you have been so unlucky as to have to call your life." Sandrine couldn't help the bitter smile from her lips as she spoke those words. Sandrine's twisted sense of justice had always come before mercy. One had to wonder what she was doing here, trying to save one victim when she should be preventing the next one.

But the words she spoke seemed to effect Samantha, whose energy returned to her. Her face turned and she fixed Sandrine with those wounded puppy dog eyes, which were suddenly quite clear. Sure that she was doing the right thing, Sandrine's black claws slid straight through the flesh on the back of her hands. She managed to slip one between the rope that bound Sam's wrists, she slid them down and the rope gave way quickly as they were cut open by the sharp blade. Repeating this process on the other ropes the girl was soon freed. The sunlight was fast disappearing.

Sandrine moved towards the door of the room. With her heightened senses she managed to determine the man was just putting the child to bed. Hard to imagine with what she knew about him he could behave in such a fashion as to almost appear loving while he did this. That was when she heard the trigger to some sort of weapon being cocked. Sandrine's body tensed, in a fluid yet slow motion she hoped would not startle Sam to action, she turned to face her. If you can't turn your back on the person whose life your saving than you can't turn your back on anyone " Sandrine made a mental note she hoped she would get the chance to use.

"Try to take me if you will but not even you or whatever creature you call God can part me from this world until I have made sure Lily is going to be alright." Though Sam's words clearly held some spite, they were full of determination. Sandrine could appreciate that. Her eyes changed to green as they flickered briefly to the weapon then promptly returned to hold the gaze of Samantha once again. It was some sort of gun but it wasn't one she had ever seen before. It was a pretty safe bet that it couldn't hurt her but she wasn't sure. And fighting an extra armed person who was this close to going mother bear on her was something to be avoided if possible.

With a smile the Saint would reply calmly. "I have not come to free you from the pain of living, merely from this particular life. We will take your daughter with us."

A bitter laugh came from Samantha. "Even if we even managed to get out he will find me. And worse, he means to make sure that if I leave him I lose my child." The Saint's smile held all sorts of wickedness as it grew. "Do not fear, I will see to it that he doesn't have the chance to hurt you, your daughter, or anyone else - ever again."

Samantha spoke again in a harsh voice as she held the weapon with a steady hand aimed straight at the chest of the Saint. "And then what? Where are we to go' Did you really think that 'saving" us would be so simple" Do you think that I would have stayed with that man for one day if we had somewhere else to turn" He may be terrible to me but he has treated my daughter well, he took us in when we had nothing."

Sandrine was getting impatient as her voice started out in a low growl. "You want that wicked creature out there to raise your child?" Was repeated as though it were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. A brow would arch. "Do you even know how he supports this "family?"" Sandrine had been watching him for a while now, he did all sorts of nasty things to make money.

Samantha's eyes were so cold as they stared at Sandrine hard, the hand holding the weapon still unwavering. "I know something of the methods he uses to get money. I don't like it, but he puts food on our table. There is more to saving people than just knocking off a few bastards who got lost trying to make their way in this world, Angel."

Sandrine stared back with equal determination and just as firm a resolve despite the valid point presented. "Fair enough. You help me take out this predator" I will see to it that you two are taken care of. Any needs you have will be met." The rest would have to be analyzed at a later time.

Dealing with these types of situations was definitely not something Sandrine was used to but the confidence in her voice was enough it seemed. Samantha would give a slow, thoughtful nod as she considered the offer carefully before replying at last. "Wait till he comes back in here. I don't want any chance Lily will get hurt."

As though this had been the plan all along Sam moved to the window and opened it wide. Next she hopped to the side of her bed where she could not be seen. Crouching back there with the weapon still in hand, ready to fire she waited in complete silence. Sandrine watched her curiously as a small smile appeared upon her lips. "Don't forget, you are alone no longer.? Sandrine's voice barely a whisper in the girl's mind as she melded into a shadow of the now dark room and vanished from sight.

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-07-04 06:21 EST
As Sandrine stood in the darkness she began thinking letting the girl stay was a mistake. Softly from the shadows she spoke. "You really should just drop that gun and leave this to me?" Of course the girl refused outright and a little too loudly it seemed.

Her husband heard and entered the room suddenly. Sam hopped up from behind the bed and aimed the gun at him - actually it was specifically aimed below the equator. He was clearly taken aback by his wife's actions and began begging her not to squeeze that trigger which apparently was some sort of atom melter.

While distracted by all this he didn't notice Sandrine forming from the shadows just behind the door. She moved forward and stabbed his arm with a needle. The drug was a quick acting sleep agent. He was out before he even hit the floor.

Sandrine kicked him in the ribs before looking up to Samantha again. "Really, leave this to me. You gotta get Lily out." She knew that would be the quickest way to get rid of her.

It worked. Sam gave a nod and left the room without another word. Sandrine could hear her talking softly to Lily in the other room as she woke her up and packed up a few things. Sandrine glanced over as Sam left carrying the child, who was still half asleep.

After the door closed behind them Sandrine carried the man into the kitchen. She pulled out some strapping tape she kept handy for just these situations. Along with her sharp hunting knife, and hypodermic needles, she always carried strapping tape. Now for anyone who is unaware, the merits of strapping tape are as follows: Doesn't untie like rope, gets tighter if you struggles. Also once he's dead and in the water, there will be no rope burns to tell he was restrained when he died. Even with the tightest knots you can slip out of rope; tape doesn't go nowhere.

Sandrine strapped him to the table around his upper torso, then again around mid-thigh. She hummed a pleasant tune to herself as she began looking through the kitchen to see what was handy. She gathered an assortment of interesting-looking devices from the drawers. These she laid out on the counter thoughtfully and spent a moment contemplating them.

With a firm nod to herself she turned her attention back to the man on the table who STILL hadn't revived. So she started slapping his face hard. "Wake up you worthless piece of shit. It's time for you to learn what it's like to be helpless."

Soon he was awake and begging Sandrine to release him. The only reply was that wicked smile before she resumed going through the tools handy in the kitchen. He watched with growing fear as she lovingly looked over what she had gathered. When he realized there was no mercy to be had, he started cursing at Sandrine. Stuttering, "This is my kitchen you interfering cunt....Stop it you crazy bitch!!!" Etc, etc"

She grinned in that sadistic fashion which could only mean she was about to seriously hurt someone. In a swift motion she snatched the meat-tenderizing hammer, bringing it down on his knee which shattered with a crack like porcelain. He screamed his head off, like they always did.

His tongue sticking out inspired Sandrine to grab it with a set of barbecue tongs. She stretched it as long as it could go and snipped off the last third with a sturdy set of kitchen scissors. "Oh," says Sandrine "were you done talking" Allow me to retort." (gratuitous use of pulp fiction line!) She sliced off his eyelids with a cheese grater, and then she pours course sea salt into his eyes. Knowing he cannot blink it away, having no eyelids.

He started screaming incoherently, and almost choked on the blood from his tongue...So Sandrine pulled the tube off a turkey baster and shoved it down his airway. "Choking on your own blood is too good for you." For some reason this particular case seemed to have gotten to her. Yet she had maintained that cold matter of fact tone she always had when "working."

She puts the turkey baster aside for now, but her eyes gleamed with an idea. She rummaged in the fridge and she found some chicken fat which she put in a skillet to heat. The contents of the fridge are pathetic" Besides the chicken fat were only condiments, nothing really to eat. She also spotted a few bottles of Zeppa, the new lemon lime soda that was being advertised as "extra fizzy." This gave her another idea. She chuckled mercilessly as he frantically eyes the pan of chicken fat. Sandrine was glad she used only salt in his eyes, because it would be such a shame if he'd gone blind.

Before starting on the serious pain, Sandrine went to work with the cheese grater. His nipples. His inner thighs. Nowhere too vital, saving the real sweet spots. It was no light rubbing either, his skin sliced off in ribbons. She seasoned the cuts with a sprinkling of lemon juice. "Oww! That has to hurt." Was said to him in mock sympathy.

Giving him no time to rest she retrieved two bottles of Zeppa from the fridge. She had been dying to try this trick since she'd heard of it. She shook em up good and smashes the tops off against the counter. Quickly she shoved one jagged neck up his rectum, and one down the tube in his throat. Violating him with soda. His eyes bulged out. "Can you feel the extra-fizziness" Isn't it invigorating"!" shouted Sandrine.

That was when Sandrine heard a polite knock at the door. She looked up sharply to see Sam walk back in looking grim. "Where's Lily," asked Sandrine. "She's with the neighbor woman," Sam said. Her face was set with determination. "I came back to help finish him.?

Sandrine Black

Date: 2008-07-08 00:49 EST
Sandrine looked at Sam who did not seem disturbed in the least by the situation her husband was presently in. She still doubted at this point that the girl could have the stomach for this. So arching an inquisitive brow she asked Sam, "You sure you wanna see this?"

Sam didn't answer right away. She bit her lip fiercely and then seemed to reach some kind of decision. She lifted up her shirt, showing Sandrine her body, covered in bruises and scars. She pointed to a terrible wound on her breast. "This is where he damn near bit my nipple off the last time he raped me....He meant to torture me again and again for the rest of our lives together."

Sandrine was now seeing absolute red, comprehending Sam's words as each one filled her with that rage. She glared at the bound monster on the table, circling him like a shark. Without looking back at Sam she picked up a rubber band. She slipped it around the instrument the man used for his pleasure, at the cost of others pain; she made sure it was tight enough to cut off the blood circulation. She picked up a meat cleaver and severed it with one chop. As he screamed she held it out to Sam.

The girl took the severed member and Sandrine said, "You decide what to do with that." Sam looked at it thoughtfully. "Why don't I fry this up" Stove is already hot." Sam's smile told how she wanted this man to suffer, far more than any words she spoke. "He should smell his own flesh cooking."

Sandrine could hardly believe her ears but she gave an approving nod. She watched Sam cook with a subtle smile while she reflected on the interesting turn of events. At first she had seen Sam as some helpless victim' Now she was thinking this was her kind of girl.

Sam finished cooking and approached her husband with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Speaking to him in a voice that was so sweet it could have made you sick. "Now honey if you eat this all up" We'll let you go." With a mischievous glance given back up to Sandrine. "Seems like fair terms don't ya think?" Sandrine responded with that grin. The man's desperate eyes moved to her, awaiting her verdict. Her reply was a visible nod to them both.

The women must have known this was impossible as he can't chew the thing, much less swallow it. Not to mention there was a tube shoved down his airway still. He was in so much pain and so desperate at this point for it to end, one way or another, it seemed he was willing to do anything. He whimpered pitifully as he tried, this ended with the ladies laughing cruelly at his attempts.

Next Sandrine grabbed a nut cracker. "It was a nice effort." It was said with that merciless grin. He noticed at that point she had grabbed the nut cracker and he struggled violently against the tape which held true. Her motions were slow to give him every moment possible to spend in the expectation of agony before she used it to break his balls. Pop, pop. "How is he still alive?" wondered Sandrine out loud. "He's too fucking stupid to know he's dead," said Sam bitterly.

With a shrug Sandrine moved to fill the turkey baster with the chicken fat set aside now while Sam was cooking. Removing the broken bottle from his rectum she inserted the tube, injecting him with boiling hot liquid. He screamed so loud, blood bubbled off his lips and started dribbling on the floor in thick streams....Sandrine glanced casually to the window. "Didn't think he'd still be able to scream so loud. Will the neighbor lady hear?"

"It doesn't matter," replied Sam, "She knows what he did to me." Sandrine handed Sam a knife while saying considerately, "Here. Have a go. He won't live much longer."

Sam started cutting off ears and fingers and lips while cursing up a storm. Finally she worked herself up enough she's crying while she swears, and she stabbed him, over and over.....Long after he lost consciousness, after all life had left his body far behind.

Sandrine had just stood back to watch the woman in her unleashed fury. Moving forward she carefully then took Sam to her arms, holding her while she cried. "It's okay, the evil man is really dead." She tried to sound soothing as she said it but being motherly was not really her thing.

Between sobs Sam manages to get out something along the lines of," I know" But I can't believe" I just?" Sam sniffled and trailed off, overcome by shock it seemed for a moment. That was when Sandrine realized that the Sam is feeling guilt after all. She held her and spoke firmly, "Don't even think about it. You are free, you're safe, and your daughter is too. She needs you now" Go to her. Make sure she knows it's all going to be okay. You guys are going to be staying with Mommy's good friends for a while on an island. It's going to be lots of fun." Sam wipes away tears as her eyes meet Sandrine's who handed her a card with an address where she tells her to take Lily. She tells her she'll meet her there, once she disposes of the body. Sam looked at Sandrine before leaving with a small smile, thanking her quietly before making a swift exit.

Sandrine watched the door close before looking back at the mess she had to clean up now. Well putting off the daunting task wouldn't make it go away. With a sigh she cut the body that once was a man free. Rolling his body off the table " thump " she gives the dead meat one last kick for good measure. "Bastard.?