This is something that Terrex asked me to write a while back on my old account, just under a different name. It's basically a follow-up to his story about a girl called Anna, a little girl who's out to take over the world and there's a chance she very well might succeed.
Melantha was sat in her chair, resting her legs on the desk before her. A devilish smile played upon her lips. Before her was a coward of a man, his name Thurman Nestoruk. His hair was wispy and thinning atop his podgy head. His blue eyes were filled with terror and what he knew was inevitable. His lips trembled.
Melantha Thunders looked down at the bloodied man with a sadistic curiosity. His cheeks were decorated with cuts from her own fingernails. His blood dripped to the floor with an odd rhythm. Drip, drip, drip. His forearms were adorned with bite marks from her 'pets'. His left calf was missing, torn off at the knee by the same teeth that had torn the skin on his arms. Blood pooled on the floor, thickening slowly.
Thurman Nestoruk dared to glance up at his captor. She was merely looking down at him, with an interest like a cat watching a mouse. She had never spoken to him, and he'd never even seen her. He'd been chained against the wall of a cell somewhere else in the large building. He'd just been waiting for her next orders for his torture.
He hadn't even known she was a woman, he'd imagined some big burly man with cropped hair and scars all over his face. Instead he got a girl, about 16, 17 years of age. She had dyed red hair that fell down her back with the straightness of a ruler. Her eyes looked black, no matter the light. A long sword lay in front of her, a dagger in her hand. Thurman had nothing. His hand were cuffed behind his back and his left leg had been ripped off by the wolves they'd set on him. He shivered convulsively with the memory.
Melantha had been watching Thurman Nestoruk for just under an hour. But to him it had felt like a millennium. What does she want with me? was the only thing at the forefront of his mind. His wheezing was the only noise in the room. He looked at the girl looking at him. She was more than half his age, what did he have to be scared of?
He didn't know why he was scared of her. He didn't know that this girl, this mere teenager, had downed a thousand men, and would down a thousand more before she met her end. She'd laughed and reveled in the pain she had inflicted on every single one of them. Melantha Thunders was a sadist, one of the worst ever to walk the earth.
She'd struck her parents dead when she was young. Her strength was unlimited, and she never ran out of new ideas of causing pain in those she held captive. She could brandish any weapon and kill hundreds without even exerting herself. She'd been lying low for a few years, in an underground chamber built as a military hideout, but she'd come to the surface once again as news slowly trickled through the soil of a girl more than a match for Melantha.
She wanted to meet this girl, a girl of only 5 years. A girl that spoke as if she were an adult, a girl that had been evil even before her birth. Melantha Thunders brought her feet down off the table and sat forward in her chair.
"What do you know of Anna?" she asked.