[ ✠ Closed RP // @eyesintheshadows ]
After numerous failed attempts to capture the so-called nightstalker, the Borgia passed the task down into his hands, to someone suited to the dark streets of Roma — And, specifically, someone to test the limits of the nightstalker’s resilience. As this man didn’t simply die… but that would prove no issue.
The alleyways of the poor district were like a maze, twisting and turning like an inescapable nightmare, but one that the doctor had etched into his mind, able to navigate without a single error — from any starting point.
It was only a matter of time until this man wandered into these alleyways… and tonight was that night.
With thick shadows as his cover, and light footing, Malfatto followed the other — as silent as a ghost — cautiously moving closer and closer…
Finally, he saw an opening, swiftly stepping out of his cover and slamming his victim up against the nearest wall, head first — leaving no time for the man to retaliate before the syringe pierced his flesh, emptying it’s contents into his throat. Malfatto’s large arms kept him firmly in place, holding his mouth closed tight; Until finally, the poison took hold and robbed him of his consciousness…
With a slight twitch of a smile appearing beneath the mask, the doctor let the man’s unconscious body go limp, easily lifting him in his arms — somewhat surprised at how light he was…
It would require even less to get him to talk, in this case.
It was a quick and effortless trip back to his office, hardly bothering to avoid the guards, as they wouldn’t question a doctor of his patient’s condition.
Pushing the door of his clinic open, he quickly began working — Gloved hands worked rope around his doctor’s table, securely fastening his victim’s body down; tight enough to hurt, to bend, to stretch. He wouldn’t allow this man any comfort until he gave him what he wanted.
The pain would bring him back… eventually; But with the large dosage given, it would take a while longer.
The doctor had patience, in abundance.
Italy wasn’t Joe’s preferred area to roam, and it showed in how uncomfortable he felt when he traveled. He kept closer to the corners, to side streets, and glanced over his shoulder much more than someone like him had any right to be doing. The darker areas, poorer districts, he avoided like a true plague.
Yet he didn’t quite know why until chills ran down his back a moment too late, and his head collided with the brick before him. Lights burst before his eyes, hands pressing to the stone in a fight-or-flight instinct to try and push his assailant away and get himself out from being pinned; it proved futile as cold metal cut through his scarf, pierced into his skin.
Eyes widened as he choked out, the poison spreading through him much faster than anything he’d felt before. It didn’t take long for him to fall limp, and when he awoke, his head pounded. A weak groan escapes him, and he doesn’t even need to try moving his arms to know he was fastened down. An assault like that, it only meant he was being taken captive.
God, he hated Italy already.
The place was still dark, and he guessed that it was still nighttime; his eyesight slowly focused, and he gingerly lifted his head, looking around. “What the fuck do you want?”
