Heart of Spades'
The Heart of Hearts...
Amongst the carnage stood a lone figure, silhouetted in the glow of the houses ablaze.
Long hair, stained with the crimson lifeblood of the slain, flowed in the stale winds that blew through the small village. The air was a flaming cesspool of gaseous oxygen, incapable of sustaining any life. She did not feel it; not while she stood behind the large, red creature in front of her.
Its arm, lodged through the chest of a male, was stained with blood. Its eyes were emotionless, complete devoid of any feeling or life. Turning its arm to its left, it flung the body into a pile of wood. The broken timber was littered with similar corpses; ripped agape, limbs thrown haphazardly - many of which not even with their original owners. The air was filled with the stench of rotting bodies, filling her senses with the overwhelming urge to recoil - to show her inherent disgust in the form of a contorted expression.
But she kept her composure, and with a voice as cold as the stare she held at the scene, she said; "Are you finished, now?"
She was addressing the creature that stood before her. Turning its head to the side, she could see it nod its head in confirmation. "Zor," its own voice was deep, growling in a deathly low voice. 'Fitting' was the only word she could think of for it. However, she'd always failed to notice - and care - about anything other than the Pokemon's killing ability.
It was a part of her protocol, a part of who she was.
Scizor had spent so much time on that man, savoring the instantaneous death its gargantuan claw delivered, that it hadn't even noticed that the girl had moved on for the briefest of minutes. When she'd come back, it still had the male on its pincer; staring like a starving vulture at his slowly decomposing corpse, growing cold from the lack of a heartbeat - or heart, for that matter. Scizor had dealt a quick job with it.
She was sure it was completely destroyed.
Turning to face behind herself, the stained and dirtied gown she wore flowing by her, she scanned the landscape. The village of people had been completely wiped out... all of its inhabitants had either escaped or were parts of the multitudes of piles littered across the streets. She'd made sure to keep them all inside of wood, which would burn quickly. She never wanted her work to be seen.
Looking to a nearby rooftop, she watched as a gaunt silhouette crouched down on another. The figure seemed to be doing something... she knew exactly what. Then, it threw the other, obviously limp, figure from the rooftop onto a pile of smoldering wood. Leaping from the roof, it walked toward her slowly.
"And, you? Are you finished?"
The six-foot tall creature, a Garchomp, growled out its response. Its maw was stained with crimson, liquid dripping from its fangs. Garchomp noticed her stares, smirking to allow her to see more. She swore she could feel her stomach churn from the repugnant sight. Absolutely sick.
And she sighed. What was the goal; the overall need for all of this violence...
Looking to her left, she eyed a red fish-like creature; limp on the ground as its beady eyes stared into the heavens. "All for such a useless prize..." she couldn't help her employers and their desires for a Pokemon of great power. However, a Magikarp was only good once it actually evolved. Until then, the pathetic thing was barely a novelty. Frankly, the creature had been put out of its potential misery; a burning piece of house wood falling onto it. It was obscured, but she could tell that the dead Pokemon would be butane to the fire. Not her problem, anymore.
But she'd failed in her mission, and that was what made her stomach twist. Failure... it was something she couldn't afford, especially what with the things that her employers were capable of. She was... saddened. She could almost feel the tears begin to prick at her eyes.
However, cutting a glance to the two Pokemon who'd accompanied her, she bit back her sadness. The two were busy carving apart the strewn corpses, blood spraying upon them in a macabre shower.
They were murderous, as they were trained to be. She was to be emotionless, as her job required. As an executioner... the Heart.