<div style="text-align: justify">A gentle wind touched Mallory's face and relaxed her. Dome seldom got any wind around these levels; people said that wind was where the sky was - in the highest levels of the city, reserved for those swimming in money and connections. But somehow, today the breeze made its way down; even though there were no trees to move, and the howling of the wind between the tall dark buildings was quite disconcerting, the young officer felt at ease with the wind blowing against her face and her broken nose.<br/>
<br/>
Mindlessly, she raised her hand - wrapped in bandages, a result of trying to disobey Victor - and touched it. A little bump where the bone had been broken, but that was about it for the damages. Surprisingly, Victor Lavonne did not lie - he truly took care of her, bringing in an official militia medic soon after he had brought her back to the quarters. Mallory did not remember the whole ordeal, but her nose was put back, accompanied by a symphony of pain that exploded in front of her face. It was short-lived, however, and soon enough the young woman could breathe easily again.<br/>
<br/>
"That her? She's Lavonne's pet?"<br/>
"Don't look! I told you not to look!" came the hushed answer, the tone slightly nervous.<br/>
<br/>
Mallory moved her gaze to the side and spotted two young officers looking at her. They were wearing low-ranked uniforms, adorned in silver, but with less ornaments. They moved their heads quickly, avoiding her. She realized they were not the first ones to do so, and quite possibly, not the last ones. But it wasn't like she could blame them. Even looking at herself in the mirror became harder and harder each day.<br/>
<br/>
The past month was very.. Educational. Mallory learned a lot, perhaps way too much, about militia's most wild addition. She realized that no matter how vile and cruel, Victor Lavonne was not a liar in the slightest - and that his cruelty was even more terrifying due to his intelligence. As if his other actions did not matter at all, the massive man kept a twisted code of honor, following it without fail. At first, upon hearing Lavonne tell her about it, the young officer bursted out laughing. The sheer stupidity of the idea produced loud laughter coming straight from her diaphragm. However, one slap from her superior reminded her she was not in a position to giggle at anything.<br/>
<br/>
She raised her hand to her cheek now, touching it, eyelids falling down. The past month...<br/>
<br/>
***<br/>
<br/>
<i>"We appreciate your work, Lavonne, but Hare is not your toy!"<br/>
<br/>
Mallory raised her eyes from the bowl of mushy soup she's been sipping from her metal spoon. Lavonne on the left, towering over the man next to him, commander Purric, whose only job today seemed to be acting as free meat for the former. Still, he stood there, head raised up high.<br/>
<br/>
"She's not." Victor responded, crossing his arms. "She knows she can leave anytime."<br/>
<br/>
Purric shot a glance at her. Was there worry in his eyes? Mallory rolled her shoulders. Again, her "captor" did not lie. The young officer could leave at any point; she almost did, once, too, but came back after feeling Victor's stare at the back of her head. Terrifying and paralyzing at the same time, it wasn't just a look - it was a promise of vengeance for her misbehavior.<br/>
<br/>
"Hare hasn't been out on a patrol for a week." Purric snapped, brows furrowed. No matter the changes in his expressions, the larger man seemed unphased.<br/>
<br/>
"Untrue." Victor smirked and looked at her. "Isn't it, Mallory?" he cooed. It didn't scare her; two weeks with him made her somewhat numb to his face and fake expressions. "I assure you, commander, she had been learning a lot. We are not wasting militia's precious time." Lavonne narrowed his eyes. "Or possessions."<br/>
<br/>
"Learning?" Purric huffed. "Learning what?"<br/>
<br/>
"How to be a good officer. How to strike at her enemies at the best moment possible." Victor smiled and opened his arms. The smile did not reach his eyes at all, leaving them barren and cold. "How to not have her nose broken." There was a slight pause. "I suggest you leave, sir." He added. There was nothing in it that could even lightly resemble a suggestion, however; it was a threat, or perhaps a last chance to get out, last chance for a way out.<br/>
<br/>
And Purric took it.</i><br/>
<br/>
***<br/>
<br/>
She opened her eyes and looked around, but the two low-ranked officers who gossiped about her were nowhere to be seen. They probably took off the moment they realized she was looking back. No one wanted to get on Victor Lavonne's bad side, and Mallory knew full well her little nickname was more than true. She was his pet, and he taught her everything he knew. And more.<br/>
<br/>
Throughout the month spent with him, the young officer burned, broke, pulled and generally tortured the flesh and mind of many of Lavonne's unfortunate victims, all done under his watchful eye. She had no choice - at least not one she was willing to take, considering her situation. But no matter how hard she tried to tell herself it was fine and all of the poor souls locked in the dungeons with Victor were indeed rebel scum she was perfectly fine with hating, it did not work.<br/>
<br/>
It failed to work because everytime the torture would reach it's peak, it was as if an invisible button was pressed in the victim's mind: one that would urge them to talk, spill everything right away. Perhaps some thought that once they shared their secrets with Lavonne, the pain would stop. It never did. Others, as Mallory saw it, seemed to accept their fate and figured chatting before the end could do no harm. For those, Lavonne had other plans, and Mallory was forced to take care of the broken bones and scarred flesh. She still remembered the excrutiating tug she felt at her very soul when a man begged her to let him die as she cleaned his wounds.<br/>
<br/>
But above all, Mallory knew Lavonne wanted to break <i>her</i>. Twisted as it was, the man was gentle with her, except for the single moment she disobeyed him; she half-expected him to lay his hands on her and abuse her in many ways, but it never happened. She felt no gratitude, however. It was not possible to feel anything positive towards the monster.<br/>
<br/>
And every day, every minute she spent in the dark cells with Lavonne breathing at the back of her neck, the young officer refused to break. She bent, twisted and curled under Victor's orders and demands, but the defiance in her never disappeared. Everytime they went out on a patrol and the older officer shared his brilliant ideas of Mallory's revenge, another spark of resistance ignited in her.<br/>
<br/>
With a deep sigh, followed by a pained hiss, Mallory stood up from her spot on a metal bench. The gentle breeze was almost gone; her short time of bliss has ended. She did not leave the headquarters for nothing, after all. It was clear Victor was going to notice she was gone; time was of the essence. She had to act fast.<br/>
<br/>
Picking up her pace, Mallory disappeared in one of the many alleys of Dome, looking more like a ghost of a woman than an actual human being. With bags under her eyes, bandaged hand and a skin paler now more than ever, she was a picture of decay.<br/>
<br/>​</div>