*Edited*

his eyes, Muerte was met with the sight of a katana sword in his face, touching his nose. One wrong move, and the sword would draw B- blood.

Not wanting to move, he allowed his eyes to wonder. He was placed in what he would guess was the attic of the warehouse. It was dark with the only light coming from a few dangling, lightbulbs that were dull. On each wall stood a woman with a different weapon used for torture. He could see ninja stars, spiked gauntlets, flails, scythes, and other weapons that he thought he would only see on television.

The sound of a knock came from behind a door, before it was opened and a weed smoking Madame Sinclair came out. The female holding the sword in front of him began to back up, disappearing into the shadows.

The sound of her heels could be heard as her feet slowly stalked towards him, in no rush. Once she made it before him, she bent down, so that she would be at the same eye level as him.

Tilting her head to the side, she released the smoke that was once in her chest, blowing it directly into his eyes.

Quickly closing his soon to be irritated eyes, Muerte scrunched his face up at the stench that filled his nostrils.

Looking at the blunt in her hand, Madame Sinclair realized that she had to put the ash out. Instead of looking for an ashtray, she pressed the tip of the blunt against Muerte's tied down hand, rubbing it across it.

Muerte quickly began to thrash in the chair, trying to move so he could take the burning ash off of himself.

"Bitch!" He shouted, or thought he did, realizing that he had thick tape covering his mouth, withholding his thoughts from them.

Madame Sinclair smirked at him, before taking another pull of her blunt.

"It might not have come out clearly, but I know what you said." Moving her blunt away from her lips, she placed it back on the same spot on his hand, twisting it around. "And I am a bitch. The baddest one around."

High pitch screams could be heard through Muerte's taped mouth. He kept trying to move his hand away from her reach, but the thick rope tying his arms down, denied him that right.

Lifting the blunt off of him, Madame Sinclair snapped her fingers, leaving her hand in the air. One of her workers quickly came and grabbed the crushed blunt, placing another one in her hand. Still holding her hand up, she allowed her worker to light the blunt, before placing it between her lips.

"What I want to know is why you really came here? Are you working with the Wests'?" Madame Sinclair asked ripping the thick tape off of his mouth.

"My mustache!" Muerte screamed feeling the hairs above his lip being ripped out. "Once I get out of here, I'm gonna fuck you up!"

Madame Sinclair remained in front of him in a calm demeanor. Letting out a low whistle, one of her workers came up from behind Muerte, placing him in a chokehold. Another worker came up, holding his jaw in her hand tightly.

Muerte began to move his hands, feening to claw the woman's biceps from off of his neck and reciprocate the feeling on her.

"I would watch how you speak to me, darling. Who knows, I might just take out a couple of teeth." Madame Sinclair said with a smug smirk on her face. "Now I'm asking you again, do you work with the Wests'?"

Muerte's jaw was released and he quickly began to groan at the feeling of the woman's hand still begging on his jaw, but it really wasn't. His head was released from the tight chokehold, and he turned around mentally sending daggers to both woman.

"Your workers could use more manners-" Muerte began to say, but stopped once he seen Madame Sinclair's eyes on him. "I mean they are some lovely ladies. If they ever need a man, I know a few eligible bachelors."

Rolling her eyes, while shaking her head in disbelief, Madame Sinclair raised her hand to signal one of her workers.

"Look," Muerte shouted loudly, to get her attention. "I don't work with the Wests', I actually hate them. I came here today, or maybe yesterday, I don't know how long I was out. Anyway, I came to work with alongside you on taking out Sahir West."

Madame Sinclair started at him for a while, before letting out a genuine laugh. Her workers in the background began to look at each other, in confusion to what they were hearing.

"You must've been smoking some good ass shit before you came, if you expect me to believe that. You couldn't work alongside me, if bread had no crumbs. You lack too much for you to be of use to me." She said once she was able to get her laughing under control.

Muerte's eyes lowered as he cut his eyes at her. One thing he realized about her is that she thought she was above everybody, when in reality, she wasn't shit and she smelt exactly like that.

"You aren't in the same status as me, yet you come here like we're equals." She continued. "Now I have to show you how the superior has to act, when the lesser forgets their place."

With a quick snap, one of her workers stood in front of her with tweezers in their hand. Madame Sinclair stood up from her squatted position, standing in between Muerte's tied legs.

Muerte could feel his head being put in a chokehold and another person holding his jaw, again. This time, the person held his jaw with so much strength, that he had to keep his mouth open to try and lesser the pain.

While his eyes were on the person's hand holding his jaw, he didn't notice Madame Sinclair placing the tweezers into his mouth, until he felt a sharp pain of one of his front teeth being yanked out. The metallic taste of blood began to pour into his mouth, after his tooth was roughly pulled from out of its roots.

"You bitch!" Muerte screamed at the top of his lungs. "I hope when he comes tomorrow, he beats your ass. All of your ugly, manly looking asses." Muerte said angrily, upset that he wasn't able to do anything to the ones inflicting pain on him.

The woman gripping his jaw squeezed tightly, before letting go.

Madame Sinclair stepped back suddenly with a look of apprehension on her face. Quickly masking it with her regular resting face.

"I was going to allow them to simply kill you, but that's too easy." Madame Sinclair said with a smirk. "What we're going to do is act like the words you say is true. I'll be lenient and allow you to go unharmed until tomorrow night, if the Wests' show. If they don't, then I'll continue to take out all your teeth and then your fingers and toes. Then we'll remove your limbs and that useless penis of yours. You'll either die from shock or blood loss, we'll have to hope that we get to find out."

Tilting her head to the side, she nodded, making her worker release Muerte from the chokehold, again.

"I hope your ass dies you badly built bitch." Muerte mumbled out, not caring if he was heard.

Madame Sinclair shook her head with a smile on her face.

"I'm a badly built bitch and you have a badly built mouth. Who would've ever thought." She said walking towards the exit. "I'm feeling so badly built that I want them to take out two more teeth."

With that being said, she walked out of the room and her workers assumed the position from before.

Looking at the woman around him with a menacing glint in his eyes, Muerte yelled, "My name is Muerte and I will kill you, so you better hope that I never get out!"

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This chapter came straight from my imagination, and I don't know if I like it or not.

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