Desdemonda reached the training ring and was disgusted at the state of her crew, lazing around like they had nothing better to do. Her crew was made up of herself and three males, Donovan, Keiran, and Ramiro. They were vicious, destructive and ruthless, true killing machines. She felt a regard for them. They weren’t friends, they weren’t enemies, they just existed together. She knew that they were bonded in a way, a way that made them work and kill together seamlessly. She signalled to the ring marshal to let in a few of those who they had taken from the black caskets a few missions ago. She looked at her team and silently sent them the message that they could do whatever they wanted to the humans. This was one of her favourite activities when she was frustrated, the one way to release all of her anger. Getting to maim and torture the humans.
“What’s your name?” Desdemonda asked of a man in the ring.
“Chase,” he said. Desdemonda looked him over and chuckled to herself. Chase was short with brown hair and grey eyes. Eyes that shouted anger and a hatred of the world, grey eyes that bore pain of hurts gone by, eyes that screamed his defiance. Desdemonda knew that this male would make an excellent destroyer.
“Well Chase, I’ve got something really special in store for you,” Desdemonda approached him with a malicious smile on her face, “Try to keep still, it will hurt less”.
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