lemon flavoured

ｆｉｖｅ

Saint Sylas King was the heir to the King Crime Family, one of the stronger gangs that plagued the country. Due to this, since the time he could walk, he had been trained and conditioned for the role, able to shut his feelings down so that enemies wouldn't be able to anticipate his next moves.

Once he turned 18, he would take full control of the entire family, becoming the new Don.

Angel knew all of this, she knew that the boy that her parents were allowing her to spend so much time with was next in line for Don, although she didn't know that they knew he was next in line.

But she was glad that they allowed her to spend time with him all the time.

The cells were located in the basement of one of the storehouses.

Dark and musty, the place reeked of blood and human waste. It was a long, thin corridor with steel bars lining the walls as they looked into the cement walled cells.

Some were empty, some weren't, but the ones that had someone in it reeked even more of piss and rotting flesh.

Sylas walked beside Angel through the stinky corridor, holding her hand as their footsteps remained in pace with each other.

"Who is he?" Through the deathly silent basement, Angel's melodic voice echoed.

"He owes my parents millions, and," Sylas paused before continuing, "a rapist."

I want to see his blood

At the mention, the voices returned, but not as loud and unbearable, since Sylas' presence calmed them.

They approached the particular cell, and Adler and Maverick were already waiting for them.

Inside the cell was a battered and bruised man.

His grey hair was all matted, facial features covered in a tangled, dirty beard as his head bent at an unnatural angle as he stared into his lap.

His wrists were bound tightly to the metal chair, the same for his ankles. He was completely immobile.

"I want him." Angel kept her eyes on the man as the voices stirred more violently.

They would only be appeased by the man's crimson blood on her hands.

The trio nodded in understanding. She would forever have unhandled business with her rapist, the least that they could do for her was let her take it out on someone like him.

Sylas, Maverick and Adler looked between each other, coming to a silent agreement that Adler and Maverick would go see another inmate, and Sylas would stay with Angel.

The boys left and Sylas wordlessly scanned his finger and put in a passcode, allowing the barred door to slide open.

The noise made the man lift his head, sleepy, bloodshot eyes staring back at them. They studied Angel, and she shivered.

How dare he look at you, the voices began, you were only a child when his eyes laid on you, sinful thoughts that ruined an innocent child.

Angel stared right back into his eyes that were widened in surprise.

He had looked at other innocent people and tainted their lives. He doesn't deserve to see.

She slowly approached him, her hand pulling the sharpened knife from an abnormally large pocket.

His dulled, brown eyes watched the movement as he began to panic and move a little in his metal chair.

She lifted the knife and dragged the sharp tip along his dirty cheekbones as a dangerous look flashed in her eyes.

"You think it's ok to force girls into sex?" Angel murmured quietly, but her words were loud and clear in the barren space.

The man didn't reply, he only watched her warily, his mouth seemingly glued shut. His hands fisted, and her attention was brought down to them.

Hands that touched unwillingly girls. Hands that ruined.

She moved the knife down his neck and arms to his hand - or more specifically, the top of his fingers.

He doesn't need them.

Angel pressed down and the sharp knife began to slide down the finger as if it were butter. The man's loud screams echoed as the ring finger on the left hand was now cut clean off.

Tears and snot were running down his face as he cried pathetically, thrashing in the chair as he tried to escape.

No mercy.

She then proceeded to calmly cut off each and every one of his fingers, the crimson liquid coating her knife in its poignant colour.

The screams still rang, loud and continuous as the man mourned the loss of his fingers as he writhed in immense pain.

But Angel wasn't done yet.

Her lips curled into a sadistic grin as she leans back up, head tilting as her brown eyes darkened in pure and unadulterated hate.

Eyes! The eyes that undressed innocent people, eyes that made you want to burn the skin that he saw. The voices hissed as his eyes opened, tears falling freely.

"I'll tell you anything you want! Just please, stop." The man thrashed violently.

Angel placed a hand on his revolting face and his moving ceased. She stared at him, knowing what the voices wanted.

Knowing what she wanted.

No mercy.

She dragged the bloodied knife up to his face again, leaving a line of crimson against his dirt-encrusted clothes and sickly pale skin.

She turned sideways and sat on his arm, pressing it into an irregular angle as he screamed out once more in pain.

"These eyes have witnessed and been the cause for so much pain," the knife made a circle around his eyes, "you don't need them anymore."

She stabbed one of his eyes and his deafening screams filled the basement once more.

Turning the knife in a circular motion, she scraped one eye out as he squirmed violently, desperate cries for mercy escaping his mouth.

She was anything but an angel at that moment.

Sylas was leaning up against the barred door, watching the interaction with interest.

As he watched her move to the next eye with a sick determination for revenge, he couldn't help the thought that crossed his mind.

That's my girl.