"Well sorry," the teen said between his gritted teeth. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you stabbed me."

I shrugged. I walked over to him and yanked the knife out of his arm. He cried out in pain, a sound I was used to by now.

"W-who are you?" The boy asked through gasps. "And why do you want me dead?"

"Dead?" I asked. "Who said anything about killing you. Tourture doesn't mean certain death. As who am I, I am the one they call Fate. A fitting name, thought a bit cliché. You will call me mistress or madam."

"Never," the bleeding boy said. His eyes shone with tears but he refused to let them fall. He was very defient. I liked that about him. A challange.

"Aren't you cute," I said with a smile. "I've seen grown men weep at the sight of me. That will be my goal for you. For me to simply look at you or walk into the room and you'll be begging for mercy."

"You're all talk," the boy said through gritted teeth.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Did you see my hesitate when I stuck that knife into you? Did you see fear or sorrow in my eyes?"

The boy hesitated. I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm not some weakling like you." I slashed him across the cheek with my knife. "I am much stronger."

I set the knife down on the table. "Now," I said, looking at my assortent of tools. "Where do we begin?"

~

After thirty lashes with a whip, I was sure the boy would be sobbing. He wasn't. Sure, he was in pain and tears slipped down his cheeks, but he was silent, glaring up at me with all he had.

"You're a lot stronger then you look," I said. "But no one gets out of here sane."

The boy was trying to detach himself from the pain, I could tell. That's how some people made it farther then others. They would try to escape the pain by thinking very hard on being in another place where it was safe and comfortable. I tried not to let them. I picked up my second favorite weapon and turned the boy over. He gritted his teeth against the pain of his open wounds on his back touching the cold stone floor.

The weapon looked like a meat cleaver, but it wasn't as sharp and it had a longer handle. It was made for breaking bones. I brought it down upon the boy's leg and he screamed in pain. I hit him again, but in the ribs. I heard a definat crack or bones breaking. The boy still wasn't a sobbing mess, but he was still holding onto his broken ribs, tears running down his cheeks.

I threw the weapon back on the table. Not all tourture was physical pain. Most of it was mental too. The boy hadn't eaten for at least twelve hours when we captured him, but it could have been more. I walked over to my table, grabbed the bread, and started to eat it. The boy glanced up hungrily, but said nothing. I drank some water too. The boy closed his eyes and looked away. I smirked.

Going back to my weapon's table, I looked through all my toys.

"W-why are you doing this?" The boy asked, barely over a whisper.

I glared at him. "What do you care?"

"You...you must have gone through...through something awful," the boy gasped. "W-what happened to you?

"Hold you're tounge or I'll cut it out," I growled.

The boy did shut up, but he gave me this look which made my spine shiver. I let it go on for about three minutes before I turned and kicked him in the gut. "Stop looking at me like that!"

The boy grasped onto his stomach. I saw that defient look in his eyes. It wouldn't go away! No matter what I did! I trod on his bare foot as I walked back to my table of dangerous toys. I grabbed the scalpel off the table and turned to the boy. "They shouldn't have let a child do a grown-ups job!"

~
I wiped the blood off the scalpel ten minutes later. The boy was whimpering in the corner. No tears came. No tears would ever come. Not ever again. And I didn't have to see that look he gave me! I never had to see those defient eyes again!

I walked briskly over to him. His hands were covering where his eyes once were. There was blood running down his face. It didn't faze me. "We're not done here," I said. "I'll be back." I shackled his feet together and his waist to the wall. "And when I do, I want to break you."

He didn't move, he didn't sob, he didn't beg for mercy. He simply stared up at me with his eyeless face. Those dark holes boring into my soul. It sent a shiver down my spine. I grabbed my meat cleaver and hit him in the side of the head. He was out cold.

I was breathing hard as if I had just run a marathon. I threw the cleaver against the wall and stormed off. But as soon as I opened my door, there was a man blocking my way with a gun pointed at my head. "Give me back my son."

"Your son?" I asked with a smirk. "How cute. You came to try and save him. Sadly, it's too late for saving."

The man gritted his teeth and shoved his way into the room. There were at least six men behind him. One grabbed my arms and twisted them behind my back. It didn't hurt. I was almost unconcous to human contact by now.

The man collapsed on the floor next to his son. "Jason..." he slowly drew his son into his arms. "I'm so, so sorry..."

The boy groaned. "D-dad?" He rasped out.

"He's got will," I said.

The man glared at me. "You did this to him. Let him go."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Or else I'll hurt you like you hurt him." His voice dripped with poison. Just like mine.

"So you'd turn into the man that you despise. You'd turn out to be just like me. Isn't that a great role model for your son?" A smile was stretching across my lips.

"Unlock him." The other men let me go. I walked over to the boy and freed him. He slumped to the floor, shivering. His father grabbed a cloth out of his pocket and wrapped the cloth around the empty sockets in which his eyes used to sit. He would have said it was so the wounds wouldn't get infected. I say he did it so he wouldn't have to look at it.

"We're taking you in," the man said, glaring daggers into me. "There's a nice cell in the Asylum for maniacs like you."

"So the rest of my operation has fallen?" I asked. "A shame really. But I was never in it for them." Before anyone could stop me, I grabbed the boy, pulled a knife out of my pocket, and held it to his throat. "One move and I kill this little brat."

"Shoot her!" The man yelled.

I tisked at him. "You couldn't risk shooting your son here," I said with a smirk. "And I can still slit his throat with a few bullets in me."

"What do you want?" The man asked.

"I want to hear him scream," I said. "To sob. To fear me."

"Please," the man was begging. "He's the only family I have! And he's just a boy!"

I lifted an eyebrow. "Just a boy?" I asked. "Any boy would have lost his mind after the first whipping. Any man too. No, this boy's special. He didn't even break when I blinded him. Just a boy? No. He's special."

The man took a step forward and I dug the knife a little deeper into the boy's neck. Blood slowly started to drip down his neck. The man froze. He was scared. I could feel it. It was almost so thick I could reach out and touch it. I smirked. "Pity that regular humans become attached so easily. It's always so hard to say goodbye." I took the knife away from the boy's neck and threw it at his father. He cried out in pain and doubled over, clutching his shoulder.

I smirked. "I think I'll take your son with me. Maybe brainwash him. I'll turn him into a little pyhcopath, just like myself." I grabbed the tazer off my table as I dropped the boy to the floor behind me. I hit one of the guys holding a gun with it. I threw a knife at the other, then shot the last one, before any of them could raise their gun and fire.

I stepped in front of the man. "Any last words, old man?"

"Stop," came a small voive behind me.

The boy was slowly trying to crawl over to his father. "If you spare him," the boy rasped. "I promise to go with you...willingly. I won't struggle. I won't cry for help, I won't even think about tring to escape."

"Jason...no."

I smiled coldly at the boy. "The struggle is half the fun." I held my gun to the man's forhead and shot without another thought.

"No!" Came the cry of anguish that I so long to hear. He was too weak to even crawl forwards. He reached out his hand, cut I crushec it under my boot. "We're leaving. Now." I took the tazer out of my pocket and hit him square in the chest. He screamed and fell unconcious. I smirked down at the boy. I slung his limp body over his shoulder. "Come on, my boy. You still have much to learn..."