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The cellar is dim, but not dark, and when Lynette wakes she'll see the two dogs she met earlier standing not more than about six feet away, watching her. Kraven brought her here, wherever here might be, and chained her up. He hands are held up to either side, the chains connected the the ceiling about as far apart as her arms will allow, in iron manacles. Her feet are allowed to touch the floor, though she's prevented from much range of motion there as well. It's cold down here, but the dogs don't seem to mind, and a single small window casts a bit of moonglow into the room to illuminte it just enough to make out a row of wine bottles along the opposite wall. The drugs he had injected into her neck after knocking her unconscious would be wearing off about now, a few hours after he administered them. But for the moment, Kraven himself is absent; just Lynette and the dogs down here in this makeshift prison.
*
Lynette shakes her head, those curls sent drooping and swaying, though some cling to the back of her head thanks to the heavy 'smack' that knocked her lights out to begin with. Eye-lids fluttering, she groans and feels the heavy, throbbing sensation of after medication and the left over headache from the initial attack. Soon, her dark eyes settle on the dogs in the room, and after giving a soft growl toward them, har arms finally move. Tired, weak, and cold, she can't shift much at all, but it is enough to sound metal links to metal, letting her 'hear' what was going on.
Another growl and the shadows around the girl swell and swirl, creating a blanket of darkness around her. It wouldn't do much, truth be told, but steal the light away that is closest to her being. A bottle on its wrack wobbles, before jolting off and crashing on the ground, splaying wine across the floor along with shards of glass. The another, and another.
*
The larger of the two dogs bark, but both back away a little bit when the darkness starts to close around the girl. Good thing she's locked up, and they've been told in no uncertain terms not to get too close. The bark, and the noise of the bottle breaking, seems to be enough to alert Kraven that his prisoner has woken. The door at the top of the stairs opens, letting light stream in, and he flicks the switch to turn on the hanging bulb about ten feet from where Lynette is bound. "Miss LaCroux," he says as he descends the stairs, his Russian accent thick and deep. "It takes someone special to intimidate Sasha and Baron," he says with a bit of a laugh as he approaches her, not too close for now. "I apologize for the accomodations, my dear little girl. One cannot be too careful with a creature like you, I am afraid. If it helps, you will not be here long. Word has already been sent."
*
"Y'makin' a m'stake." The girl murmurs from her shelter of darkness as it shifts and hugs around her. She can't be seen at that moment, except for eyes that could pierce shadows. Another bottle rocks and breaks, and then another, as if angry ghosts who just so happened to loathe alcohol were boredly playing.
"N'y' ain't sorry f' 'nyt'ing, y' basta'd, so don' even start lyin'." Another bottle flies with a bit of force, but lands a few feet from the dogs, and Kraven's body. The chains clink together, indicating that she was moving every so slightly. They were the actions of a caged beast, waiting, patiently, for their chance to destroy. "Y'betta send y'dogs 'way, or I promise y'…I kill'm both."
*
"Dogs are funny creatures," Kraven says, signalling for them to back off. Is he afraid of her? Not exactly, it's more a respectful acknowledgement of her abilities. And he doesn't want his dogs hurt. They're probably the things he loves most in the world. "They can sense a lot of things that most people can't. Fear, for one, is well known. They can tell if a person is trustworthy, if they are lying. They can also sense where one sits in the pecking order. The food chain, in a manner of speaking. They know an alpha when they see it. These two," he says, motioning to the dogs again, "They aren't afraid of you. They would tear you limb from limb if I ordered it. But dogs can also sense power. And they respect it. As I do."
He moves closer still. The darkness around her is an interesting effect, and he's curious to see her face. "Unless you can break these chains, little girl, there is nothing you can do to me here. But I can do.. whatever I like, to you." He licks his lips, and reaches a hand to touch her arm. "You are right, though. I am not truly sorry. In fact, my feelings about what happens to you are.. nothing. You are a contract, which I have agreed to fulfill. And I shall. What happens afterward though.. is not my concern. Tell me why these people want you."
*
A soft grunt comes from the girl as she strains all the more. Glass drags across stone and concrete, meaty shards float and dangle in the air. It seems she's making a point to 'prove' her conviction on slaughtering his dogs. Yet, they back away, and the glass is allowed to fall, tinkling across the ground. The closer he moves toward her, the more the shadows swallow him as well. Her arm is cold, sweating, and lean. If he were to squeeze too hard, it would be like snapping a bird's bones in two. He can feel her struggling, her muscles tight, but twitching with fatigue.
He can see her face soon enough, full of loathing, hatred, pure and simple. Black eyes flicker and fade, becoming whole with lines for pupils. It was the same look she gave him at the bar before warning him away, and threatening to remove his head from his shoulders with his own knife. She doesn't answer the question, her jaw set and teeth gritting behind her placid lips. There is silence, and darkness. A few more bottles fall and crash freely, one row now vacated fully.
"Don' know." She murmurs calmly. "Guess y'kill 'nough people, s'mbody c'm runnin' 'ventu'ly."
*
"This is certainly true," Kraven says, releasing the girl after a moment and stepping back. "Know this, Miss LaCroux," he continues, still watching her eyes. "I'm going to turn you over to them. And I expect they will want to do some terrible things to you. But you are not some fragile bird. I can sense it, as much as see it. Do yourself a favour.. when they come to take you, finish the job, and perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances. Perhaps as foes, but perhaps not." He shrugs, backing away further. "I suggest you sleep, if you can. The dawn comes soon, and with it comes the end of your imprisonment here."
*