Chapter Text

First time

Karlach entered the corridor in front of Big G's office. He had recently moved to a new location and the girl still couldn't get used to how spacious and rich the place was. Well, her boss was a smart and hard working man, so he fully deserved the success he had achieved. And she was so proud of him!

Karlach exchanged a few words with her colleague, whom she had now replaced on shift as a bodyguard — according to her, nothing unusual had happened, except that Mr. Gortash was visited again by these strange guests. Karlach sighed heavily. Her boss had many different businesses with many different people and never sat still, it seemed he had connections all over the city and even far beyond. Some of his acquaintances she liked, some — didn't. Of course, it was none of her business… But these strange guests of Mr. Gortash were a special category. They didn't seem to be doing anything wrong, and on the contrary, they were the most respectful visitors to her boss. Even too respectful at times, as strange as it may sound. Sometimes it seemed to her as if they were trying to read his mind to anticipate his desires. As if they were barely restraining themselves from bowing before his gaze.

Karlach couldn't understand what exactly was bothering her so much in this company, but she always felt uneasy with them.

When the girl entered Mr. Gortash's office, just as her colleague had told her, she saw these people standing near the wall behind his desk: lined up in a row, motionless, with stony, expressionless faces. They were all dressed in different clothes, but for some reason it still felt like they were in uniform.

"Hey boss, hey um… people," Karlach muttered, not expecting any response from them. The girl had tried to strike up a conversation with them several times the last time they came to Big G, but he had been busy with other things, so they had waited for a while in the hallway where Karlach stood at her post, guarding the door to her boss's office. But that time she hadn't received even a refusal in response. A row of cold eyes had simply glanced at her in unison and then returned to their previous position. As if Karlaсh wasn't just unworthy of their important asses' attention, but simply didn't exist.

"Hello, Karlach, you're just in time—" Big G began to say, but then one human from the group leaned forward and Karlach almost jumped in surprise.

"Ah, so this is the gifted girl you were talking about?" A man about the same age as her boss, only paler and way more wiry, said with a smile. His brown hair was shaved at the temples and braided at the top. The girl thought she saw that strange emerald sparkle in his eyes for a moment, which she sometimes noticed in her boss's eyes too.

Karlach expected Mr. Gortash to scold the man for interrupting him — she had the impression that these people were his subordinates — but he did nothing more than make a displeased face, to which the pale man only chuckled.

"Yes, that's just what I was going to say," Mr. Gortash muttered, rising from the desk.

He went up to the man and put his hand, which was becoming more and more covered with jewels day by day, on his shoulder.

"Karlach, this is my dear friend Franc."

"It's nice to finally meet you in person!" the man smiled at her amiably and extended his hand. "Enver's been buzzing all over my ears about your magnificent talents."

Usually bubbly and outgoing Karlach found that she had lost the ability to speak. She silently thanked the gods or the devils who had given her such ruby-red skin, so now no one could notice how hot her cheeks had become. Big G had indeed been praising her a lot lately, but she hadn't given it much thought. Okay, she gave it a lot of thought — she liked her job, she liked Mr. Gortash, and Karlach was very proud that she had lived up to the expectations of this usually critical man. But she hadn't thought that Big G was so pleased with her work that he even told his friends about her. One of whom, judging by his familiar attitude towards her boss, this Franc really was.

Karlach wiped her suddenly sweaty hand on her pants and shook the outstretched hand.

"Likewise, mister…"

"Oh, you can just call me by my name, I'm not as big a deal as our friend," Franc chuckled and poked Big G in the side with his elbow, drawing a disgruntled snort from him, but then Big G just smiled back.

It was all so unfamiliar to her. Karlach's usually chaotic thoughts became even more tangled than usual. She had never seen Mr. Gortash talk with anyone so informally. However, he must have friends, right? He was such a smart, kind and generous person, of course he must have many friends! It was just... Perhaps it was unexpected for her that one of his friends would be a person from this company. However, Karlach thought that she actually like Franc.

Big G said she had been doing such a good job lately that he would now occasionally give her special assignments that only particularly talented employees could handle. For an increased payment, of course. Like today. Today dear Franc needed an assistant and Karlach will have to help him.

"Of course, boss!" Karlach exclaimed happily, and only then realized that she didn't even know what she had agreed to. "Um… but what do I have to do?"

"Oh, it's nothing complicated. You'll just have to stand next to me and show off your impressive muscles," Franc looked her over from head to toe with an appraising glance. "Just make your face a little more stern, you can handle it, right, girl?" He grinned cartoonishly evil and Karlach couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Yes, Mist… Franc, I can handle that," the girl giggled. "ARRRRRR!" she growled, baring her fangs and frowning. "Is it good enough?"

"Wonderful!"

Both men exchanged satisfied glances against the backdrop of the indifferent people standing behind them like some puppets.

Big G had told her not to bring her axe — she had no need of it today —and now Karlach followed Franc through increasingly narrow alleys with an unaccustomed ease. The less sunlight filtered through the tightly packed hovels, the more anxious she became, though she couldn't quite figure out what she was so worried about.

"Um… Franc?" she called after the man who was confidently walking forward.

"Yes, dear?" he answered without even bothering to turn around.

"Big G said that this was a job that only I could handle. But you said this job isn't difficult. So what—"

"Big G? Ha-ha, who gave him this nickname?" the man finally turned his head towards her. "He really is getting bigger and bigger these days, huh?" Frank patted his toned stomach with a smile. "His business is doing well and it shows!"

"Oh, no, that's not why—" Karlach panicked. She had never called Mr. Gortash that in front of him. But Franc turned out to be such a friendly person that the girl even forgot that he was actually her boss's confidant and began to behave in front of him like with her other colleagues. And she didn't want him, and especially Mr. Gortash, to think that she was making fun of her boss.

"Okay, okay, calm down," the man waved his hand. "I was joking. I know that a good girl like you would never give Enver this nickname out of malice."

He finally stopped at a dilapidated, seemingly abandoned house and fished a key out of his pocket.

"There. Come in!"

Another short scream echoed off the moldy walls of the filthy basement, over and over again, making it sound much longer and louder than it actually was. Karlach winced and fought the urge to turn away. In her short life, she had been in countless fights, broken dozens if not hundreds of bones, and even killed a couple of times. And she had never felt such disgust for what she had done. Violence had always come easy to her, but this time, something was different.

For the first time, looking at the captive's victim's interrogated man's face, battered by her hands, Karlach doesn't feel exited by the feeling of her power — how she always felt when she won a fight. There was no joy of victory in this, only disgust. She felt almost as helpless as the man crouched before her, trembling in his chains. What could be so hard about just beating someone up? She'd done it many, many times. But she never tortured anyone on purpose before. She wasn't the most careful fighter, but she never tried to deliberately increase anyone's suffering. But not today. Today everything was different, new. Today she had to bring as much pain as she can, while causing as few injuries as possible. At first she thought it would be easy, even pleasant — to torture such a vile scum. Oh, the girl's blood boiled at the thought of what abominations this man had done! And she would have killed him without a single regret — as she immediately told Big G as soon as he informed her about all the atrocities of this bastard. She would have even been glad to do so! But torturing even such a pice of shit turned out to be something entirely different. She felt dirty. Karlach wanted to wash her hands of his sticky blood as quickly as possible. But she can't. She hasn't done her job yet.

Franc was watching intently, leaning against the wall opposite Karlach. His attentive, searching gaze reminded her so much of Big G's when he studied the schematics of the mechanisms laid out on his desk in the office, too complicated for Karlach to understand. And now she had the same feeling that she was missing something, unable to notice an important detail from her position.

Karlach hit the man tied to the chair in the stomach once more and he coughed hoarsely. The wet remnants of his previous meal burst out from between his broken lips in a vile yellowish-green slush and landed right on the girl's freshly cleaned vest. This trifle, which Karlach wouldn't have even raised an eyebrow at before, this time for some reason finally broke her. All her anxiety, frustration, fear from not understanding and anger from helplessness burst out and fell on the man twisted in front of her.

"Just answer!" Hit. Scream. "Answer me!" Hit. Scream. "Answer me, you scum!" Hit. Scream.

Karlach was brought out of her furious fog by a warm hand falling on her shoulder. She shuddered and raised her head — Franc was standing above her, smiling warmly again.

"That's enough, dear. He agreed to cooperate."

"Oh... Okay..." Karlach muttered in shock, her voice hoarse from screaming. Her body had been working on autopilot, and only now did she become aware of the world around her again.

"But if you've gotten a taste for it and want to continue..." Frank's smile began to spread into a much more sinister grin.

"No, no, that's enough for me," the girl giggled nervously, purposefully trying not to look at the bloody mass groaning at her feet.

"Then you can wait for me outside, if that makes you feel better. I can handle the rest myself."

Karlach nodded and, relieved, almost ran out of the basement.

"And how did it go?" Mr. Gortash asked as soon as Karlach and Franc returned to his office, looking from one to the other with an appraising glance.

"Wonderful!" Franc patted the girl on the shoulder. "Karlach was a little nervous at first, of course, but she quickly got a taste for it."

"Got a taste of it, you say?" Big G smiled at her.

"Well... it's not that I got a taste for it, it's just..." Karlach muttered, breaking off mid-sentence, not even knowing what to say. But she wanted Big G to know that she hadn't had a taste for it at all. On the contrary, if there was one thing the girl wanted most while she was in that damn basement, it was for it all to end as quickly as possible.

Luckily, her boss knew Karlaсh much better than Franc and quickly understood the reason for her uncharacteristically gloomy mood.

"Oh, Karlach, Karlach. My good girl," the man stood up from the desk and walked over to them. "You have nothing to worry about. I told you that man was a terrible person. Or maybe you don't believe me? I can give you—"

"No, what are you saying, of course I believe you, Mr. Gortash!" Karlach exclaimed.

"Then what, do you really feel sorry for him? A slave trader who sells children?" the man's voice held a note of surprised indignation. "Do you think he's the kind of person who deserves compassion?!"

"No..." Karlach muttered. Mr. Gortash was right about everything and she herself didn't know why she felt so disgusting, so dirty.

"Well, don't bother your head with it then. That's not why I'm paying you," the boss interrupted her thoughts with irritation. He took a small bag of coins out of the pocket of his richly embroidered jacket and threw it in her direction. The girl caught it easily and, after opening the bag, looked at him with surprise — she didn't expect such a large payment for such an unpleasant strange, but essentially, as Franc said, easy job. "Go and rest today. You've done a good job."

"Thank you..." the girl mumbled, but Big G wasn't even looking at her anymore. He and Franc went to the desk and began to discuss something. Karlach turned around and, still stunned by the events of the day, emerged from the office.