SDF - part 1 - the young assassin (snuff...)


(I guess I'll start off with an introduction of one of the main characters :p. This series' setting will change later on and that's why I put this under teens. )
A windy gust flowed through the night air, sharply ending the silence for but a second. The moon was hidden away behind the wrinkled grey clouds that seemed closer to earth than they should be. It was as if the gods decided to move a little bit closer just to witness the dark events about to pass.
The grass crackled and crunched under the heavy footsteps of a cautious figure. Stone steps of the stairway to hell led from an alleyway next to a broken down bar. Dispite being broken down, though, the bar was filled with crowds of rough-looking men whom probably could belong to a gang. Their appearances matched the stereotype, anyways.
The stairway only led to a supply closet. . . to the untrained eye. Push against the back of the closet and another set of stairs are revealed. They were long and led only to pitch black.
Deep below the cellers, underneathe the abandoned bar was a windowless basement of sorts.

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   The walls were made to be soundproof and the only light was a single lightbulb hanging down from the rotting ceiling. The bulb was swinging back and forth, casting moving shadows at a constant pace. There were two shadows painted against the concrete floor. One belonged to a middle-aged man while the other belonged to a young girl.
The middle-aged man actually looked quite normal, wearing a chestnut-brown sweater and grey pants. He stood around six feet tall and had curly brown hair with black roots. The only thing that was abnormal about it, though, was the look of lust in his eyes and the crop in his hand. A sadistic sneer etched across his face, adding even more to his abnormal appearance. He brought the crop back up again, then struck the girl across the face.
The young girl looked to be only around eighteen, yet she looked as if she'd been through a war. There were cuts, scrapes, bruises, and welts all over her body. The most noteable ones were all over her more private regions: her breasts, ass, and cunt. At full height, she'd probably stand around five feet six. She had blond hair, which was in a mess, and blue eyes, which were stained with tears. She was kneeling on the floor with her wrists cuffed behind her back and her ankles hobbled together.

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   An iron collar circled around her milky white neck. A chain led from the collar to the wall.
Six weeks. . . that was how long she'd been in this hellhole. The young captive remembered walking home from school one day when she decided to cut through some construction site. It was getting late that time. . . though she'd forgotten why she was late getting home. A towel from behind was pushed into her face and the next thing she knew. . . this sicko started the torture.

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   At first, she was made to pleasure her kidnapper and rapist both orally and vaginally. Her anal virginity was taken away not to long afterwards. Then. . . a group of men from the bar upstairs joined in on the fun. That was. . . around four weeks ago? Every weekend, those thugs would defile her and gang rape her for their own pleasures. There was once when they came in four days in a row. She couldn't feel her three holes for a long time after that.
Those didn't compare with what her captor did to her during their little "discipline" sessions, though. The bastard would find some excuse to punish the poor girl whether it was because she didn't respond fast enough or if she didn't do something well enough. Whips, crops, canes.

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  . . she took quite a few beatings.
"Fucking bitch, can't keep your eyes down like I told you to," Mark, the rapist sneered as the crop whistled through the air before cracking down against the girl's left breast.
"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" The girl screamed as she felt the stroke across her mound. Another gush of tears erupted from her eyes as she tried hard not to fall over. She'd be in a lot of trouble if she fell over. Experience taught her that.
"You know, I found that voice sexy when we first started, but now it's just getting annoying," the towering man grinned as he looked down at his slave. "Hmm. . . should I even bother with a gag anymore? Maybe I should use something a bit more permanent. "
"Please. .

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  . no. . . not that. . . " the girl whimpered as she continued sobbing. "Please, I'll be good. I won't scream if you. . . "
"Fucking bitch! Did I say you could talk?!" The crop was raised up in the air again. Eyes of insanity glowered over the whimpering creature before him.

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  . .
The wooden door to the windowless basement creaked open, revealing a third character. A heavily clothed man standing almost the same height as the man with the crop. The new arrival wore almost all black: a black leather trenchcoat, black jeans, black boots, black cap, black gloves, and a grey shirt. He also wore a white ceramic mask with a thick streak of black ink starting diagonally from his top left side.
"Ah, you must be the one here to collect the merchandise," Mark dropped his arm to his side as he greeted the expected visitor. His sneer was still on his face as he approached the masked man. "You must be that assassin I've been hearing about. Yep, that mask is the trademark of that famous killer. I heard you've killed quite a few people back in the days. . . what's it been? Twenty years? Working for slave traders now, huh? Nice choice, choosing a line of work that brings in the cash. Thought you'd be taller, though.

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   What? Can't talk? Cat got your tongue? It's the bitch, isn't it? Pretty hot stuff there, know what I'm saying? I expect to be paid top dollar for this girl, alright?"
". . . . . not me, I'm his disciple," the masked man replied as he moved past Mark to inspect the slave girl. He knelt down and looked at the broken down girl before him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of torture the girl went through. The blond tried not to look up at this unexpected guest for fear of getting hurt even more than she already had. Her body was visibly quivering as she wondered what her fate was to be.
"Huh. . . from your voice, you shouldn't be much older than this slut, here," Mark remarked as he looked at the masked man in surprise.
Ring Ring
Ring Ring
"Hello? Yes, I know.

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  . . I was supposed to pick her up," an aged, but gruff voice answered. "Yeah, well. . . it was too much of a problem having to accept the mission and all. Don't worry though, I sent my disciple to handle it. . . yeah, that teen 'freak' we were talking about earlier. Don't worry, he can handle it. He might still be highschool age, but he can handle the job. He's handled a lot more blood than you'll ever see, so don't worry about it. Yes, yes, I know I've had him handle the last few mission, but.

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  . . I'm useless you say?! Hey! I'm the guy who trained you killer! Now listen. . . Hmm. . . something interesting, you say? Alright, I'll come over. "
"You were late on your payment. . . again," the man with the bloodied mask stood over the dead body of Mark. A shot to the head was all it took. The guy never saw it coming.

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   The young assassin turned his attention towards the slave girl with even eyes. The shiver went up the captive's spine as she looked on in horror at the dead body before her. She hated that dead bastard with all her heart, but a dead body was still a dead body and this was the first time she's seen one. The youngster spoke, "now. . . what to do with you. . . "
The girl looked up at the masked man with a new kind of fright in her eyes. This man. . . he was supposed to be around the same age as her, too! She couldn't believe it. .


  . but there was no reason for the man to lie. Was he going to kill her? Was she going to be released? Was this man a saviour or another bastard about to rape her?
"Neither," the youngster seemed to read the young girl's mind as he knelt down beside her again. He reached up a leather glove to rub the girl's tears away, but the girl flinched at the slightest touch.
Realizing that she may had made a grave mistake, she immediately begged with her life. "Please, I didn't mean to turn away. Please. . . please don't. . . don't kill me, please. . .

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   I'll do anything. . . "
". . . . . " the masked man got to his feet and wielded his magnum . 45 in his right hand. He carefully brought the weapon up and leveled it at the girl's face.
"Please, I'll fuck you! I'll. . . I'll suck you cock! Anything! Just don't kill me, please!"
The girl dropped to the floor, fainting at the sound.

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No blood though.
Just fragments of what was once an iron collar.
Ring Ring
"Hello? Shihfu?" The masked man answered his ringing cellphone. "Mission Accomplished. Huh? The girl? She's fainted for some reason. . . I've nothing stronger to break iron with. Are you done lecturing me, Shihfu? Why did you call me? A gift? From the client? So. . . no money, then? You accepted. . . strange.

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  . . I'll talk with you later. Highschool? No, I don't plan to. . . why? Oh, she's awake. Shihfu. . . stop talking so I can hang up. . . thank you. "

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