12: A bloody reminder

***Trigger warning- mentions of sexual harassment. Please do skip from where I leave the asterisks if you are sensitive to or uncomfortable with this topic, and then continue reading where I have indicated with "safe". This chapter also includes strong violence.***

**Jasmine**

As I ran in the night air, right through the heavily wooded area leading to my desired location, I felt the slight hairs against my legs which were now half wolf, half human, cling to my body due to the impact of the air against them. It was something called a "half transformation" in which a werewolf could transform only certain parts of their body. I probably would have known nothing about it, if it hadn't been for the other werewolves I had met over the past few years. It turned out; all werewolves had this strange scent to them. It was something akin to the smell of something burning and thus very easy to pick up. I still remember the first time I'd met someone like me. I had thought that I would need to face everything alone and deal with all of this werewolf nonsense by myself, until I met him. He was the first person who was ever interested in what I wanted in life, which at the time, I was admittedly uncertain of. As I thought of him, I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing now. Was he on a mission like me? Had he been caught yet? But I knew that no matter how much I wanted my questions to be answered, they would never be. Instead, I'd just live with this worry and wonder, just like how I worried and wondered about...

The walls to the house were tall and had electric fences crackling menacingly along them. In the yard, I could pick up the scent of two dogs, pit-bulls, unleashed, highly aggressive. And so, I quickly formulated my plan carefully. Once I was satisfied, I took out the mask in my bag, tied it tightly at the back of my head and then wrapped the strap of the bag around my neck, crouched slightly on my hind legs, and jumped. As I jumped, I somersaulted above the electric fence, narrowly missing it as I opened my eyes mid-air and saw the thin line of the electrical wire just an inch away from my pupil. Then, I plummeted to the ground and quickly landed into a forward roll. Admittedly, I did feel a bruise beginning to form near my shoulder blades, but ignored it, knowing it would heal soon.
Next came the slightly more difficult part, the dogs. I would need them to stay as quiet as possible seeing as their barking could give me away. And so, I quietly crawled on all fours in the soft grass. I couldn't risk a full wolf transformation as it would no doubt rip my very expensive lingerie, and so I did the next best thing, I upscaled my transformation slightly, hoping that my scent would ward the dogs off as it had so many times before. Thankfully my werewolf smell did not let me down, and I made my way to the front door. When I arrived, I was mortified to find it locked with a bio-metric system. I should've researched this place more carefully.
"Shit!" I muttered. That meant it was time for plan B. So, I went to the nearest window, elongated my claws and began cutting the outer section of the glass with them. It was a delicate process; one wrong move could have the entire window shattering loudly. The last thing I wanted was to be caught. Once the glass was out, I began breaking the metal frame of the window until there was a large enough amount of space for my body to slip through. As soon as I was inside, I began my game of sniff the rat out. He was upstairs in his bedroom, the television was on, and if I sniffed a little more, I could pick up the scent of wine. Expensive, red and paired with a luscious plate of fruit. It all disgusted me. The fact that this man was enjoying his night and indulging in such luxuries knowing what he'd done to the person I was avenging. It made me sick to the stomach just to think how he was at peace and how the sad looking, brown-haired woman I'd seen today was feeling tormented, tortured and weak. And so, I began climbing the stairs, now fully human and walking lightly on a pair of socks I'd carried in the pocket of my coat which was now stuffed into my bag. As I made my way to the door, I couldn't help the smile that began to form on my face. I knew that despite how wrong this was, I was going to enjoy every single sadistic little second.
"Oh Mr Bellgreaves!" I sang as I opened the door revealing myself to the middle-aged man lying on his bed in a gown and sipping from his wine. He froze when he saw me, but not because he was scared or surprised. No, instead he froze and only allowed his eyes to take in my body as he raked them over the exposed skin, drinking it all up.
"Well, hello there. Are you one of those Vixens?" Of course, a slimy man like him would know about the Vixens. Unfortunately, I was not 'one of those Vixens'. No, I was Jasmine, *the* Vixen.
He slowly sat up excitedly, removing his gown and revealing that underneath his gown, he wore nothing but a pair of boxers. His body was nothing to brag about- far from it actually, and just the sight of him all consumed by growing lust and desire had me cringing internally. I was going to wipe that sick smile off of his face in a matter of seconds, but first, I needed to play with my prey. I looked around the room and saw a gorgeous wooden chair in the corner which I retrieved and set right in front of his bed. With a smirk I said darkly, "Sit." He obeyed me and got off his bed, then sat, making himself comfortable.
"Just so you know," He began as he licked his lower lip, "I don't mind it rough."
*Rough? Clearly, he did not know my rough.*
"Noted, Mr Bellgreaves." I said as I got out the ropes and began tying his hands behind his back. He winced as I tugged at them and they dug into his skin. But he said nothing, probably too excited.
“While I work, do you mind if I tell you a little story?" I asked as I tore a piece of his bedsheets and tied it to cover his eyes. I liked the idea of tearing apart his expensive things.
"You can tell me whatever you like..." He whispered out lowly. I smirked and began walking around him as I started my story.

*****Trigger warning*****

"Once upon a time, there was a lovely young woman. She was fresh out of university and was ecstatic when she passed well and was offered a job as an analyst at a big company," slowly I began nearing him, occasionally whispering in his ear. "This woman worked hard and did her best. She often stayed after hours just to get her work done and put in extra effort. And thus, she began gaining recognition for her efforts."
Now I reached into my bag, took out the knife, and instead of pacing, got onto Mr Bellgreaves' lap and he bit his lip in anticipation.
"One day the woman was approached by her very influential boss. He asked if she could come for a few drinks at his home and said there would be others. Wanting to prove her loyalty, she agreed." I then began running my fingers up and down his neck and shoulders after placing the knife right next to him on the chair.
"But, when she got there, there was no one, just her boss. She, however, brushed this fact off, believing her boss would have no evil intentions-" It was then that my fingers sprouted their long claws and soon I began digging them in his flesh, ripping through as I did so. He screeched out in pain and began squirming agonisingly in the chair. I however, used my knees to press hard against his thighs, leaving him no room for escape, and then continued dragging my sharp claws against his skin. He cussed loudly and demanded I get off of him, to which I replied, "What's the matter? I thought you liked it rough!" I then continued with my story, letting his cries of agony resonate through the room like some sort of terrified backtrack to the horrid real-life events I was reminding him of.
"Her boss, however, was a despicable man, and he began making sexual advances which the poor young woman refused. He did not listen though, as he did not respect any aspect of her. Instead, he eventually forced himself upon her. Once he was done, he told her that if she ever spoke of what had happened, or refused him the next time, she would kiss her job and any hopes of a good future, goodbye." I took this opportunity to get off of him and took the knife in my hands. His cheeks were wet with tears and on the floor, there formed small pools of blood dripping from his arms.
"Please... stop..." He cried out, now deflated in his chair.
"Did you stop, Mr Bellgreaves, when you sexually assaulted not only the young woman in my story, but the others you work with?"
At this he let out a few more wails and I began running my knife against his throat. "You need to understand, Mr Bellgreaves, that just because you have money and influence, it does not give you the right to forcefully take other's power away from them. You have done something disgusting; you have taken the power, self-confidence, dignity and mental peace away from those women. You have violated them, hurt them, traumatised them, frightened them and taken away what was and always will be one of the most important abilities that they should have had in the first place. You’ve taken their ability to say ‘no’ away and destroyed the power that the word has and rendered it meaningless. You’ve done something beyond unforgiveable and I’m not sure you understand the lives you’ve ruined because of it."
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please, just don't kill me!"
"Kill you? That's insulting. I will not kill you. No, I am going to let you live with this guilt until it consumes you. Every time you think of laying a hand on a woman who refuses you, think of me. Think of how I will torture you. Think of how I will tear you limb from limb slowly, and painfully. There will be no escape, Mr Bellgreaves, because no matter where you hide, I will find you, and I will become your living nightmare." By now my face was inches away from his, and I was seething, practically dying to let my wolf out to tear this man apart. But I was nothing if not careful and knew I would need to stay focused. So, with knife in hand and hand hovering now above his own which were tied behind the chair, I whispered lowly into his ear, "Now, I am going to leave you with a reminder of this fateful encounter, so you have it scarred deep into your memory.”

*****Safe*****

He began crying loudly and attempted to get away from me, which did not work at all considering how strong I was compared to him. My movement with the blade was quick and smooth, and his fingers fell down to the ground making tiny splashes in the pool of blood. Mr Bellgreaves screeched out in absolute agony and began crying out every single cuss word in his vocabulary- and let me just say, his vocabulary was vast. But I was far from done. Instead, I got off of him and walked towards his bound hands. Then I grabbed one of his fingerless hands and carved into the back of his palm a rather ugly and haphazard copy of my fox mask. I duplicated it on one of his other fingerless hands, taking my time so I could carve this encounter deep into his vile hands. Once I was done with my masterpieces, I walked over to and my bag with the knife still clutched tightly in my bloodied hands, and said, "If you ever tell the police, I will come after you, and I will kill you." These warnings worked in most cases, but not all. The best option would have been to kill him, but I was hoping to not be in the news the next day. It always reduced the time I had left to stay in the same town by a little, and I knew I still had countless requests awaiting me in my email inbox and hated leaving too many unfinished requests for the next person who would take over my job in this town once I moved to my next town. Already the nine of us had way too much on our plates.
Before I left, I untied the ropes around his wrists. They were now soaked in blood. He fell to the ground as soon as I did and weakly just continued to cry. I left him there, satisfied that my job was done, and done well. The memory of pain would be etched into his memory and skin, a constant reminder of what awaited him should he step even a toe out of line.