[WRITING] Snippet of Scarlet Casino prologue

(I'm just rlly proud of how I introduced her,,,)

“Who is it,” Finally, a strong voice struck them back. At the very least that was how their state interpreted the simple statement from someone who had no need to be inquisitive. In reality, this responding feminine voice was a luxurious one, smooth as silk with the faint tinge of Russian heritage that gave it character. “You’re already not boding well interrupting dedicated labor hours so impatiently, I should do the courtesy to warn you of that.”

“It’s Marja Hiltunen, ma’am, from the cleaning staff,” They stumbled over even these simple facts, every muscle in their throat snapping like a mouse trap when they tried to speak to the woman on the other side of the door. They pressed their ear against the door in their desperation for relief. Picking back up their words, they opened their mouth to speak once more, “I have my… the resignation supplies you asked for. The food! I have the meal you requested.”

“Come in,” She answered, watching the lowly employee pull the door open and heave the bag they carried onto the floor. They were excessively careful to not place it on the gorgeous ornate rug leading from the door to their boss’s desk, not wanting to worsen what they already knew awaited them. The room around them was already imposing enough. It was a spacious office decorated with an organized balance of the company’s various awards in silver frames and classical art pieces someone could spend hours attempting to properly understand, however, these simple pleasures were nothing compared to what truly made it an office: the head’s desk. A beautifully carved wooden desk with silver accents and a dark varnish that made it shimmer under the light, currently covered in paperwork being handled by the dreaded woman.

“Mrs. Mammon…” The employee choked, feeling like they had to look miles upwards to find her eyes. Mrs. Mammon– or if you’d prefer, Greed– sat composed behind the desk as she silently eyed the writhing worm. She had distinctly sharp features and a grand presence that warranted such trembling, her shineless brown pupils complimenting her angular eyeshape and defined brow. Her lips were unreadable despite how pleasing her scarlet cupid’s bow was to look at. This face of unadulterated stoicism was perfectly framed by a soft silver mullet which contrasted quite nicely with her softly suntanned skin, a headshot that very few had the pleasure and misfortune of seeing for themselves even if that beauty made their imposing fates more bearable to an extent. Marja, for better or for worse, couldn’t hold eye contact as they spoke to her, looking down at their feet as they mumbled, “I deeply apologize for my m-misdeeds, please, all I beg for is one more chance–”

“Tell me, Marja,” Greed stood from her chair and readjusted the fur boa draped over her arms, her silver card-themed jewelry quietly jingling with the motion, “What exactly have you done? You must understand that, to plead forgiveness, it’s a prerequisite to know why you’re doing so.” Making sure her gloves were completely covering her hand to her upper forearm beforehand, she dragged a claw beneath the employee’s chin to force them to make eye contact, “And I’m not quite convinced you truly mean your apology. After all, you haven’t even let any scent trail when you know I asked you, quite deliberately, to use what I provided you to let enough blood free,” She ever so slightly let a grin dug at the corners of her cheeks watching the poor fellow’s expression fall even further into despair.

“I… I…!”

“You don’t know, do you?” Greed disappointedly pulled her hand away, wiping it off on the side of her sleek black dress before ushering a command to the soul, “Do the company a favor: walk yourself and your bag of butchered bodies up to the confinement, use your key to get inside, gash open the bag, and give the knife to the bloodhound. Let him warm up even if it means he keeps you breathing longer than you may like. Understand me?”

“I understand you, ma’am…”

“Good,” She walked herself back to her seat to sit and finish her paperwork, “And I mean it when I say he should be well warmed up by the time he’s done with you. By all means, struggle if it gets him active, I need him in prime hunting condition.”