Their story was one of obsessions, fixations, the danger and heartaches born from damaged minds and twisted psyche's.

He'd been watching her for days, her appearance had changed in some subtle ways, and more drastically in others. It angered him that it had and at the same time it raised his curiosities. For instance, her hair, she had dyed it to match her eyes. Shades of medium grey to almost white with the slightest hints of purple. That was exceptable, but it was short, he didn't like it short. It was functional for her current occupation at a bakery. It made her look… Mature… all gown up. Was that what bothered him? In most of the memories he had visited the years they had been apart she looked so very young. Now she was in her twenties, no longer a child, no longer too thin, finally her body was one of a woman. She was as beautiful as ever, just different, Still he didn't like it. Espascally the short hair. Even though it was longer then the last time he had seen her. That had been three years ago and by his calculations it could have grown thirty inches. Her hair grew at almost twice the average rate. It reached her waist when they first met, she kept it in braids then. While he had been waiting for her, he passed the time recalling that night, almost ten years ago. He had caught her by one of her braids as he moved to cover her mouth with a clorifrom stained rag. She dropped instantly, faster than she should have. He had barely brought it to her nose. He had contributed it to her physical condition at the time. He barely felt the 13 year old Susan Black's extra weight as he carried her out of Arkcume.

THEN

He had been ordered to collect her to use as leverage against her adoptive parents. They were older and in failing health, they wouldn't withstand questioning long. So she was to be tortured in their sted, if it came to that. Falcone had ordered him to use it only as a last resort.

More often than not being in his toy room started people talking, well begging mostly. But he had a feeling the couple (that were seen as pillars of the community) were tough, callous, and nasty beneath the church going hard candy facade. She had been part of that shiny veneer, until she got sick. Til they just suck her in Arkcume. He knew the type, he had been born into a family just like them. A long familure history of antisocial personalitiy socilpaths. When they all died (inseadently not by his hand) he came to the realization that he wasn't the kind that became a CEO. He'd felt… actually he hadn't felt anything when they died. Well not for them, didn't miss them. He paused to wonder (at the time) why he had sirvived, the obvious being he was more physically fit and obvervent than most. He spent most of his life pushing boundaries finding what little pleasure he could in a world that seemed mostly gray. Still any number of things could have caused his death in the cruise line accident. Well a more permanent death. He was brought back by some boy scout younger than he was.

Dying had been wonderful. He'd Never felt such ecstasy, such Joy and peace, such freedom. As soon as he got his barrings he had attacked the kid then jumped back in the river. He wasn't trying to drown or kill himself, he just wanted to be away from everyone and if he died of exsposer who'd care? But once again he lived. What first came to mind when he woke on the shore was how much better off the world would be if he and everyone else on board were dead and gone. A thought that continued to build upon over the next months. Long story short Victor soon came to the conclusion that it was his destiny, his mission to rid the world of useless filth. Why else would he still be living. Humans… humanity is a joke and a lie, he'd never met one turly worth living. He quickly honed his craft, his murders were masterpieces of enlightenment. Each one recorded in his skin. To keep from boredom dulling the taste of secsuss he expanded quickly, Hitman, torturer ever improving and adding to his repertoire. There was no better place than Gotham to continue his work, his life.

Susan's parents had been pleading ignorance. Laying it on thick, going on and on about how old and feeble they were. How they couldn't be a threat to Falcone… blah blah freaking blah. Having killed plenty of the elderly, he knew how they acted… How they responded to the threat of death and bodily harm. He had never been discriminative about how or who he killed. Though at first he favored a knife or straight razor to a throat. His first kills being homeless persons and a few young woman that came sniffing around for his families sizeable fortune. He didn't target either, they just happened to be around when he was "moody". He poured his money into his craft. ...And gaining the knowledge needed to get away with it… The rest gambled away...

But we must be getting back to Susan!

So there they were, annoying and pathetic, Mrs Black was actually praying when he wheeled little frail looking Susan into the room on the gurny. Instently she began crying and redoubling her efforts in earnest

Perhaps they do care about… but that thought stopped as soon as he turned his eyes back towards the little girl. She had gotten out of the restraints "Unexpected" Victor said aloud. Even though buckles weren't much to begin with. He should have known better than to trust the aysume's gear. He stepped in front of her to put her in a pare of his leather cuffs but paused at her smile. He knew that smile, it mirrored his own when it was time to play. She winked at him than began convulsing. It was faked, but a very good job, without the wink before hand he would have believed them to be real. She started making ungodly sounds, ending in a low and deep growle. The convulsions stopped, her body contorted into a unhuman shape and froze. Both the Blacks were hysterical by this point. It was a good day when he would get someone to this point without having them loose conscienceness at least once. He silently laughed, she was doing all the work for him. Amused and curious he stepped back and let little Susan do her thing. Her body relaxed, as she sat up her eyes were white, she still had them rolled in and upward. It was a neat trick, really pulled the who exorcist routine together. Mrs Black fainted, her husband promised everything under the sun "Just put her back, just put her back!" Worried he might have a heart attack before the information was gotten Victor picked up the little demon girl. She vallutted off his chest to the ceiling grabbing on to a winch. It looked like she was crawling on the ceiling the way she moved along the beam. Victor followed beneath her, when she stopped her head seemed to twisted to the point of breaking so her blank white eyes would stare down into his darkened by a sickly humor.

"Ehem!" He cleared his throat as he jestured for her to come down. She hissed at him. Causing him to chuckle. "I won't be ask-" before he could finish her limp body dropped. He managed to catch her enough to stop her skull from shattering. Her eyes were half open, big grey and unblinking. She didn't seem to be faking this, totally comatose. "Huh… interesting…" Maybe none of it was an act. Or it all could be, he didn't care, either way she was interesting. She was returned in the end, her parents killed once the information needed was gathered and confirmed. Mr Black had been cheating on accounts, supposedly to pay to keep her in Arkcume. It had effected Falcones bottom end, not exceptable. That money was returned, yet in a twist of fate their combined life insurance policies would pay for Susan's life long care...So... Happy ending.

She walked back willing, to the van, to Arkcume, to the nest in a tiny little cell. Not once had she miss stepped, though passing over gravel and broken glass. Some might watch a captives eyes or face to judge if they are going to try to run. Victor always watched their feet. Her's seemed to always be dancing without letting the rest of her body know. They guided her perfectly, so why should she care. Most of the time her eyes were closed, or dead unblinking. There was a story, a reason why, at the time he didn't care. It wasn't his job to, it wasn't his unholy calling.

Victor didn't think about her again after she was returned. He didn't forget her either, so when he ended up in Arkcume three years later she was one thing he was looking forward to. He soon learned she was rather famous, "Black Eyed Susan" she was called. From the many lobotomies she had been given over the last eight years. Apparently they never worked. Something else that was quite apparent, she had free run of the place. Seemingly to be able to walk through walls, her ability to escape went beyond artistry to pure magic. Dr. Strange kept her there by the cocktail of "medicines" he had her strung out on. It was so complicated she could die if they weren't given on time. In a few locid moments she helped him escape for a price, for him to return and help her escape when she was eighteen. If they hadn't manage to kill her by then. She was sure she would know the rest of the formula by then…

Now

Three months ago he had her move back to Gotham. One morning she received a letter stating she was returning. Her two weeks notice already given, her lease agreement taken care of. Bank accounts switched over. That was how things had always been. Victor took care of it, end of story. He demand complete control of her. What she'd wear, eat, what she would do, where she would go. Or more accurately, not go, not do, not wear. In the beginning she was almost feral, on very bad days she was tied down to keep her from hurting herself. It was his treatment of her that saved her from the purgatory of her mind, as the poison that had been fed to her most of her life worked its way out of her body. He had been her rock and ruler, all consuming, and hand in hand with that consumption was his desperate need for her. As long as he laid claim to her body and soul, she would own just as much of him, forever in his thoughts and what little was left of his own soul. To be clear ownership wasn't something he had taken, it had been given. Within her twisted world behind hospital and insane assylem walls they had never been able to break her. She was not one to go quietly into the night. Never before had he met such a strong will. A cool hum of power, that could blaze the world to ash. She always repaid in kind, wrong doer's ablitterated, merciful and kind blessed with her grace and protection.

Being a stranger to the world on the other side of the metal bars and bullet proof glass she needed him to guide her. Her intuition was spot on. But her reactions had to be tempered to society. A job Victor never would have dreamed of, teaching someone to be less roughtless, to control a blood lust for vengeance….To "play nice".

He had "stepped back" to only observed her as she settled into Gotham once more. Learning her habits, getting a feel for the little changes in her tells.

Yesterday she had killed one of Fish Mooney's men. It was really more like she had done Fish a favor. He was a particularly useless peice of meat. However the way she handled herself got Fish's attention. She had sent Butch with a car and driver to meet her. Victor didn't expect she'd go herself. Just as Butch left, Victor appeared before Fish.

"Fuck!" She half screamed

"No. Tell Butch to forget the girl. No. Me. No. It's good for your health! And No " Fish blinked dumply

"Beg pardon?" her hands moved down from her chest which she had clutched when startled by the Hitman. They now rested on her hips, a mask of control back in place.

"I answered your questions." She looked unimpressed for a woman who could be taking her last breathes.

"I didn't ask any-" Her voice didn't make it sound like a statement or question. It was more like she was trying to remember if she had, or what would warrent Victor Zasaz in her private bathroom. He sighed healvly

"Am I here to kill you- No. Why am i here and what do I want- You to tell Butch to forget about the girl. Is this an order from Flacone- No. Then who wants you to leave the girl alone- Me. Has this anything to do with business or what Falcone wants- No. So why should you do what I say- it's good for your health." He wingled his hairless brows at her. "No, you don't need to know or worry about anything else, or speak to anyone else about this. Excuse me, you have a call to make…" He turned to leave.

"Victor…" He stopped but didn't turn. "If she's one of yours, that's all that needed to be said. I respect yu…"

"NO ONE RESPECTS ME!" He shouted out in a growle. Then continued in a low whisper. "Most fear me, others hate or hunt me. I have no illusions about why I am useful, why I thrive in this festering whole of a city. Why I play apart in the game. Something YOU should know is even the most twisted insane sadist in Arkcume knows you don't fuck around with Black Eyed Susan. She tallorates my company. So constitter this a public service announcement." With his final warning give he disappeared out the door.