<div style="text-align: justify">Mallory's head was spinning. Everything hurt, it seemed, or threatened to start hurting any second if no medical help was about to be received; not that she could do much about it, laying on the cold stones in a dark, rundown alley, but her mind refused to acknowledge just how bad her situation was. She wondered, for the second time that day, whether she was going to die - and whether it would be more painful than dying from the little dagger aimed at her near the platform.<br/>
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For a moment, she thought it ironic that the militia beast saved her from the first threat for her only to fall into yet another practically moments after. Her thoughts became more and more clouded, as more and more blood poured out of her nose and onto her lips, later on trickling down her cheeks when she remained, motionless, on her back - exactly the way the rebels left her. There was no fight left in her now, and Mallory knew when she was defeated. Knowing defeat only required intelligence; but accepting it required lack of pride, and that - that the officer had an abundance of.<br/>
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But just when she prepared herself for another kick, hoping it'd be aimed somewhere else than her face for a change, the attack never came. Blinking slowly, her vision slightly clouded as well, Mallory managed to turn her head to the side, but not do much else. She heard the quick steps and muffled voices as her ears still rang, making it difficult to tell which voice belonged to whom. One thing was clear: they left her, alive. And they wouldn't do so without a good reason.<br/>
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"Tsk, tsk, tsk."<br/>
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Mallory didn't even yelp; didn't wince. It was far beyond her abilities right now. Still, her eyeballs moved just enough to get her to look at the large figure crouching next to her beaten up body.<br/>
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"Quite a mess they made out of you, don't you think?"<br/>
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A loud thud filled her ears, and then a horrid smell of blood pushed itself in her nose, a feat she'd normally consider impossible under her current circumstances. The corpse, mangled in a similar way to the one she saw before with her prey, was thrown close to her; too close to her. She felt a bitter glob of bile threaten to fill her throat as she stared right at the devastated face, or what was left of it. "Do I look the same?", the terrified notion crossed her mind. Still, there was one big difference between her and the poor soul in front of her: she was <i>still </i>breathing.<br/>
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"Don't worry. We will find them. They have this very, mmm-" Victor Lavonne tapped his lips with his finger. Even though he was crouching right next to Mallory, it did not seem he was in a rush to help her. Not only that - not even a single feeling of empathy seemed to be overtaking his expressions. If anything, he looked as if he enjoyed the situation he found himself in. His militia uniform was black and red, the silver covered in thick liquid, some of it dried now. "-particular scent." His large hand moved and suddenly, he was touching Mallory's black hair, smearing some of the viscera on it. To someone it could look as if he was caressing the wounded officer, but if Mallory could compare it to something - and knew what Jane'd thought about her touch earlier - it would be exactly that: a predator, a snake, ready to constrict and kill.<br/>
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She desperately wanted to cry out and shuffle out of the man's grip when he picked her up. At that very moment, Mallory wished with her whole being that the rebels would come back and finish her; every fiber of her body screamed at her to get as far from Lavonne as possible. He cradled her in his large arms, picking her up as if she was weightless. Somehow, it did not make her at ease. But she was helpless now.<br/>
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"Let's go home. Someone will patch you up." Victor Lavonne began walking back, not paying attention to where the rebels had ran off to. He seemed content with the situation after all; the corpse he'd brought before was left in the alley. Loud thuds and gentle swaying told Mallory they were moving. She tried focusing her eyes on him, noticing a little smirk he had on his lips. "You'll be good as new. And then we'll hunt them down, every single one of them. I miss Connor a lot already, you know-" the man cooed. "And once we find them, little <i>dove</i>, we're going to make them pay for what they did to a militia officer."<br/>
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They left the alleys. Mallory's head swung back, blood pooling up in her nose before she started coughing. Victor did not change his pace at all. "We'll break their little bones, over, and over, and over again. Pull the fingernails out of their fingers, pick their teeth-" The lithany continued as they made their way towards the platform. Now empty, the city square looked as dull as ever. There were some corpses on the ground, and people running around, mostly in militia uniforms, taking care of the most urgent matters.<br/>
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"I'll show you." Victor whispered.<br/>
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No one dared to stop Lavonne. She wished someone did.<br/>
<br/>​</div>