Ms. Madison lay on the rough bed in her cell wishing someone had left her something to wear. It was not a warm cell. Nor was it particularly well-kept, with peeling plaster and a dusty floor. She was a little worried. The man had called himself the devil, and she knew most people who call themselves that are less than shining examples of moral virtue. She dropped off after a while, only to wake up suddenly, as someone opened the door. There, outlined in the doorway, was her captor.
"Lynette Madison," the man chuckled. "I have told my people that you are an enemy of the workers."
"That shouldn't worry them," the blonde cracked. "Last time I looked, most of them don't work. Sort of like Karl Marx, don't you know?"
"I'm sorry you're going to have to die," the man laughed wickedly. "You're not," Ms. Madison shook her head.
"Okay," the man confessed, "I'm only sorry I won't be here to see you die, pleading for mercy. But I've got a city to destroy. At last, my desire will be accomplished - London destroyed!"
"Why?" Ms. Madison started forward, looking for the man's face.
A blow from the man's fist sent her reeling back.
"You don't get to know that." The draped man drew back, allowing two large and vicious-looking thugs to enter the cell. You just get to be tortured to death here, while London burns and I see the destruction of the greatest city in Britain. Then I shall make my demands!"
A large man grabbed Ms. Madison's arm, pulling the blonde towards him. He drove his other fist into her stomach. She doubled up, retching.
"And don't ask any more," the man chuckled. "Just let the nice men beat you into a cute little pulp."
"You...you won't..." Ms. Madison gasped.
"Get away with it?" the man shook his head. "Oh, I've been dead a very long time, Lynette. Poor little Lynette...." He continued to watch, as the men continued to batter Ms. Madison's helpless form.
Ms. Madison tasted blood and bile in her mouth. He legs ave way under her, and the men closed in. She heard the evil man laugh.
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