Othello stood still, his gloved hands folded neatly behind his back, watching the thing in front of him with a faint, clinical smile.
The creature paced like a caged beast, its movements jerky and unpredictable, the chains at its wrists and ankles clinking against the cold stone floor.
The magic suppressing cuffs glowed faintly, threads of enchanted silver etching faint lines of light across its darkened skin.
They were the same kind used by the Investigation Authority, stolen during one of his 'field acquisitions,' though that was hardly an admission he would make in polite company.
It had been a week since Juniper Rowe had ceased to exist. Now, only this remains. A rabid, snarling abomination wearing her skin like a costume that had been designed for it.
Her once bright blue eyes were now pools of bottomless black, with faint red veins spiderwebbing out from the corners.
Her lips curled back to bare teeth far sharper than nature had intended.
