******************
3rd POV
******************

Her brown eyes were polluted by the blind fury, darkening them more than normal.
She glared hard at the man hanging from the ceiling, his wrists and ankles bound by thick chains to make sure he couldn't move.

The dungeon had no window, only a shabby bulb hanging lifeless from the rough ceiling.
The walls were equally unpleasant to touch, damp and moldy.

It had already been five minutes of Matt using Zack as a punching bag.
Five minutes of pain-inflicting blows on his abdomen, face, and even his chest.
But not once had he uttered a single word.
He only glared at the young woman seated comfortably as she watched him being brutalized.

"Where's Jack?" Annie asked authoritatively.

Zack spat out the blood from his mouth, never breaking the scowl they shared.

"Go on!" She permitted, and Matt started another round of blows.

A thin trail of blood made its way from the corner of his lips, and moved down till it dropped to the floor in a single drop.
Despite Luke warning her that the enemy had had brain surgery, Annie still went ahead to put him through this torture.
She cared little about his life, but still didn't want him to die before leading her to Jack and also paying for his grave sins against her.

Low deep grunts once more, reigned in the cell, accompanied by the smacks of Matt's blows.

On the fifth punch, Zack's head fell forward, and his moist hair quickly formed a curtain as if it were shielding him from danger.

A deep frown ate up Annie's face as she rose from the chair.
In her squeaky red heels, she made her way to the enemy, prompting Matt to cease hitting him.

"He's passed out," Matt acknowledged.

"Mmm..."
She lifted her right hand and carefully pushed his hair to the side, revealing his scar which went round his entire head.
There was some blood seeping from it.

"Make some arrangements will you?"

"What sort of-"

"Have Luke move in in the mansion. He'll be responsible for treating Zack while I destroy him."

"Right away, Boss."
With that, Matt turned and left the cell, assured that Annie would be safe with Zack bounded.

"You're in my hands now, you demon. I'll make you suffer like crazy. One day, at a time," she whispered tucking the strands of hair behind his left ear. "Having his face may make it a little hard for me, but evil must be punished, and killed eventually."

"I have so many things planned out for you, including-" her eyes dropped to his crotch, "-castration... Then I'll feed you your balls right before I-" she mimicked a gun with her fingers and pressed them on his forehead, "-bam!"
She was only sorrowful because she couldn't do all that before he told her how he got there and where her beloved was.

"Annie..." A murmur slipped from his red lips, catching her off guard.

"Huh?"
She leaned closer to his face.
"What was that?"

His eyelids suddenly parted, blasting her gaze with a venomous glare. "I'll kill...you!"

A rope of raw fear and anxiety suddenly wound itself around her heart. In her encounter with Zack before, he never threatened her life. Nor did his green eyes make her heart pound with dread.
She held in a frightened gasp and just moved back, away from his face.

The tough woman before him reminded him of someone he had been seeing in his dreams for a month.
But in those dreams, she was younger and naive.

Seeing her in person made him feel all sorts of things; longing, anger, hatred, disgust.
She was his mission. They had shown him her pictures over and over.
She was a menace that needed to be taken care of.
He was supposed to be in the training grounds, so how did he end up bound in this disgusting cell that leaked old blood?

He recalled her name, Annie Raynatt. Leader of one of the most powerful organizations in America, Dark Shadows. An organization that had led to the death of hundreds of WSG agents and would soon throw the rest of the world into chaos.

*********************
ANNIE'S POV
*********************

It was maybe one or two in the morning.
My mind was floating in the dream world which was merging with a nightmare.
The soulless glare of Zack's eyes haunted me.
I saw him snapping his eyes open, over and over till it left me half-traumatized.
His gaze was lazy, yet lethal. If eyes could kill, that particular glare would have been enough to send me to Hades.

At around three, my insomnia struck again.
No amount of activities or teddies in the bed could help me fall asleep normally.
My eyes were hurting so bad from the depraved sleep accompanied by a slight headache.

"Argh!" I groaned realizing the glass on the night table was empty.

Casting aside the option to ring and wake one of the servants, I decided to go get it myself.

The lounge, kitchen, and hallways, all possessed an eerie silence, which was a bit frightening for I could almost hear the sound of my heart beating.
'Courage,' my inner voice whispered as I walked into the kitchen.

My bare feet walked lightly on the wooden floor till I got to the refrigerator. Placing the glass on the counter close by, a rhythmical distant clink made its way into my ears.
My body froze instantly but it couldn't silence the wild pounding of my heart.
I was always on edge whenever I couldn't sleep, sometimes experiencing hallucinations...a side effect of the microchip that had been in my brain.

I quietly picked up a knife, and in my silk shorts, I exited the kitchen, keenly following where the sound was coming from.

Unconsciously, I found myself outside the basement door.
After keying in the passcode, the door u locked with a little click.
A moderately lit staircase awaited me, like a scene from a horror movie. Except, there were no ghosts inside, maybe a threat that needed to be eliminated by the sharp knife in my hand.

I firmed my grip on its handle and began descending the stairs.

The clinking had ceased, although I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck were still stiff.
I licked my dry lips, pushed my eyelids as far back as they could go, and held my breath as I searched in the darkroom for the switch.

Golden light immediately flooded the space upon flipping the switch.
My vision became clearer, and so did 'his'.

His green eyes lifted to me along with his head while he lay on the small bed, wrists cuffed to either side of it like some kinky position.
A white bandage ran around his thick head, giving him a vulnerable appearance.

"Here comes the butcher," he said, an evil grin plastered on his lips.

My eyes traveled to the knife held high in the air.
I lowered the hand, but didn't loosen the dangerous weapon.
"They should have you sleep on the floor. You don't deserve any trace of warmth in your bloody shitty life."

He sneered.
"Says the one who authorized lethal weapons. Bloody murderer."

"Have a look at yourself in the mirror Zack, your skin sweats of all the blood you've-"

"My name is not Zack!" He snapped.

"Do I care?"

It fell silent, only deadly glares were exchanged before his neck gave in and his head fell back on the pillow. "Live out the remaining days in peace. Because it'll be hell when I lay my hands on you."

"Oh, I too have such wonderful plans for you dear Zack," I added with an evil smirk.

"My name is not Zack!"

"Please, do tell. What should I call you, devil? Demon? Lucifer? Hades? King of-"

"Jack!"

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