Dark one shots

Butcher

It had been weeks. He had been in this room for weeks, not even seeing the sunlight. He didn't know what they wanted, he just knew they made it last. Everyday, they would beat him, but give him food and water. He didn't know what was going on.

What he did know, was that when she took care of him, as he heard them say, it was the most painful and most crual. She would comfort him, smile at him, heal most of his previous wounds, only to reopen them and inflict new ones. He was exhausted. No matter how lovely she looked, he didn't want to see her again. He wanted to leave, go back home.

He knew someone would be coming soon, he didn't know who. The door opened and he heard the person walking closer to him. They took off his blindfold and the clothe in his mouth. As he was blinking to let his eyes adjust, they took a chair and sat in front of him. Finally, he could focus on the person in front of him and to his horror, he saw that it was her.

"Hello."

"What do you want?" he spat.

"I don't believe I've told you my name, have?" That took him off guard and he hesitated.

"No..."

"I'm Celia. Might know me as the Butcher," she smiled. "I'm the captain of this ship."

"Impossible," he let out. "The Butcher is a crazy, merciless, evil man."

"Woman." She smirked at him, apparently amused by his disbelief.

"No, no. Even if it were a woman it's impossible for it to be you." She raised an eyebrow tauntingly.

"Impossible, eh?"

She got up and went to a shelf on the left of the room, where the medicine was. He let his eyes trail on her. She was gorgeous. She turned around and walked to him. She took his chin and tilted his head to face her, a smirk on her red lips. She gently cleaned the cut on his eyebrow, one of the only wounds still present. He let his eyes trail down her body. Her shirt was low cut, a corset hugged her body and she wore tights pants, her sword hung on her side. She finished cleaning his face and sat back down in front of him.

"You're not staying on my ship much longer."

"Really?" He questionned, hope filling his body. His eyes shone from it and she laughed.

"Yes."

She took out a dagger from her boot. She trailed it along his jaw down to his neck, her eyes following the blade. She stopped it on his Adam apple and looked right back in his eyes. The light of hope that had appeared was now gone, replaced by fear. She didn't have her usual playful smile and her eyes were dark. He gulped, inconfort visible on all his body language. She leaned back in her chair, leaving a small cut on his neck and played with her knife.

"Are you attached to life, mister Jones?"

"Yes," he whimpered.

"Hmm..." She took out a watch and leaned forward slightly. "You have exactly 30 seconds to give me a good reason not to kill you starting from-" she held up her finger, her eyes fixated on the time, "-now."

"Please, please don't kill me. I have a wife, my son... My son needs his father. Please, I have a family. I need to go back to-"

"Enough." she coldly shut him up. She put her watch back in her pocket and sighed. "They always say that. Always playing the family card," she laughed darkly.

He looked at her in fear. He wanted to live.

"Tell me, mister Jones." She looked at him dead in the eyes. Her eyes were cold, he'd never seen them like that. "Have you ever asked them if they had a family?"

"W-what?"

"Those children you enslaved. The parents you killed. Have you ever asked them if they had a family?" Her tone was dangerous.

"I- I never," he didn't understand. Nobody was supposed to know.

"Oh I know, Jones," she smiled darkly. "I always check before finding my victims."

He looked at her with wide eyes. How could she know?

"They don't call me the Butcher for nothing, Jones." She got up, walking to the right shelf. He didn't know what was there. She took something out of it and turned around, letting him see the shining axe she was holding. "You're about to find out exactly why."

She walked towards him, twirling the axe in her hand, as he tried to back away from the chair he was tied to, starting to beg. He begged her not to kill him, his voice starting as a whisper until he was screaming. She smiled and swung her axe.

Outside the room, her crew heard the screams. When they stopped, they knew and smiled at each other. Another slave trader was dead.

Their Captain walked out, blood on her face. She smiled at them and walked to her post, where she could see everyone and they could all see her.

"Let's find other assholes." She smiled. The Crew cheered, knowing they would hear other slave trader screams soon enough.