<div style="text-align: justify">Mallory observed the woman like a hawk, brows furrowed as she tried to make out the most of the situation in front of her. Chasing and capturing rebels was a given when you were an officer of the milita, and Dome's officials and higher-ups loved their good, loyal and sometimes rabid, as in case of Lavonne, police dogs. But there was a difference between raids and what Mallory was experiencing now; she was not Victor. She believed deeply in her work, her father, and the reason for militia's actions... Suddenly, however, it was starting to become an issue.<br/>
<br/>
She treated her gun and other weapons as the extensions of her limbs; ways to reach her goals without reaching her preys. There was no need to look at them twice, ensure they were dead or captured, no reason to notice the life in their eyes or how it slipped away once a bullet tear into their flesh. She knew many had different approaches to the hunt: some loved being up close, like Lavonne, living off of the fear and pain they could taste and smell from their foes; some, which, in a way, was even scarier than Victor's sick pleasures, felt nothing; and some...<br/>
<br/>
Initially, the woman's words fell on deaf ears. Mallory clutched onto her stomach, sudden jolt of pain and sickness filling it quickly. She ran because that was her instinct; because other ran; because of what Lavonne would possibly do to her if she didn't. But now, stuck in the dusty warehouse with her prize on her hands, Mallory's confidence started to fail her. Post-raids, she would always let someone else take the prey off of her hands. Even though she desperately wanted to climb the ladder of her profession, the dark-haired woman avoided going down to the dungeons like a plague. Whenever it was her duty to stay guard, the screams she could hear in her head afterwards never stopped without a much needed help from a good liquor.<br/>
<br/>
She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could feel the warm blood filling her mouth with the metallic taste. They were her thoughts, and her alone. There was no need to share them.. And falter. Furrowing her brows once more, Mallory looked at the woman in front of her. "Do you <i>always </i>talk so much?" the young officer asked, tired undertones present in her voice that weren't there before.<br/>
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"Even if you think the law in Dome is far from perfect - which is ridiculous in itself - you and your little friends are throwing yourselves at a roaring fire, for nothing." Mallory secured the scarf around the girl's wrists and took a step back. She knew the girl wouldn't be stupid enough to run; not when Lavonne was still outside. "Butchers are sometimes needed." She added. "But rabid dogs like your lot are not. But that's the problem with strays; you take care of one and five more of them appear sooner or later."<br/>
<br/>
When Jane spoke again and mentioned getting off to cruelty, Mallory twitched visibly, her not so pretty features becoming even less appealing as her eyes darkened, and pale lips pressed into a thin line. If she was willing to discuss things earlier, now it was blatantly clear Jane had struck a chord she should have better left alone. Perhaps that's why when Jane mentioned going outside, Mallory felt her chest burning with anger. She grabbed the smaller female by he arm and dragged her to the doors, putting a hand on the doorknob. She could hear her heartbeat, knowing that if Victor is outside, their chances of survival - <i>no, her chance of survival </i>- is minimal.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's see about that." She said, her voice grim, and opened the door.<br/>
<br/>
The alley was empty, but the moment Mallory stepped out, her boot stomped on something soft. Not thinking, she looked down, only to see a mangled corpse. The person's features were pretty much gone; one would have more luck trying to read one's future from tea leaves than guessing who the man was, but Mallory knew enough - the dark and silver milita uniform, though stained with blood, was still on his body, torn and ruined.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Someone had to put Victor down.</i><br/>
<br/>
She didn't wait for her prey to comment on the view, not knowing whether she'd hear a snarky comment or a gasp of surprise and disgust first. "Move." She demanded, and began to make her way back through the alleys with the girl, slow and careful, as if moving through enemy's territory.<br/>
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