The Profilers Shield [COMPLETED]

He walked past the different cells with poise and contempt etched onto his face. The look of disgust as he peered through the clear glass cells made the creatures inside snarl, snap, gnash or bear their teeth. The seller next to him shrunk his size in cowardice, knowing who the dominant one of the two was. The sellers’ fingers clung together in front of him, trying to wring out the sweat that had built up from nerves. Although the seller was well known for unusual wares, it wasn’t usual for such a high class client to come to browse. The tall 6”2 man walked on, not noting anything that was deemed worthy of his attention. His broad frame oozed power, with it being covered by the finest suit money could buy, his long coat balancing on his shoulders and his fingers, both long and sturdy, balled themselves into fists, making it known he was displeased by the selection that was in front of him.   The seller knew what this man came for, it was well known that the upper class liked to have some pets roaming around, and this man was no exception. The reputation everyone knew of this man said it all. The seller glanced at the buyer, his wavy, dark brown hair shielded most of his expressions that the seller could read from the angle he was at but it was no secret he was furious. The seller never felt so weak before; after all, he wasn’t sought after for nothing. He had ventured all over the world to harvest some of the rarest items that came for a pretty price, they weren’t easy to capture if they were alive. Although, he did have some common species from different countries that weren’t seen where they were, and they were popular too.   Popular species were mainly docile, fluffy things that slept most of the day or more dangerous, scaly or armoured creatures that were good for hunting or using as a shield. This buyer was after the latter. He wanted protection. Usually, his boss came round and picked for him but they never lasted. They were usually murdered or killed by his own hands. That was his reputation. He was a ruthless killer if he had to be. The buyer was like a dog to his boss, he was at his beck and call and most people hated it. Very few respected him, like he ever cared what anyone thought about him. His quiet demeanour didn’t mean he was shy, instead he was judging, observing, like he was making a report on them just by looking. No one really knew what he was capable of, only rumours swarmed him like flies and he didn’t correct them, so people assumed all that was said about him was real. Only stupid people went up to him to ask and all they got was he same as everybody else, a glare that could only assume death if another word was spoken to him. He didn’t need any special ability to keep people away; if looks could kill he would’ve killed hundreds so far this year. It was only March. The man only spoke when necessary, and this was one of those times. His cold eyes searched for something to latch onto on the sellers face but the seller wasn’t up for a death wish, he hung his head low, not wanting to upset his most upper class customer. “Anything else?” His voice could cut through diamond with how sharp it was. The seller trembled, not wanting to disappoint a customer that could come back if he was successful to satisfy him. The seller nodded, still not confident enough to make eye contact with the buyer. “Show me.” Although his voice was sharp, it was also like velvet. Just like the fabric, if you’re on its good side, it was soft and perfect to touch; but if not, then it was rough and hard to handle. Unfortunately, the seller had not touched the soft side of velvet since the buyer arrived. The seller shakily took out a metal ring filled with keys of all shapes, sizes and colours. He selected the biggest key of all, a red glowing key. It looked like it was doused in magic. Old magic. Old magic was rare to see and the buyer knew he came to the right place. Most people in the world had some type of ability, this seller was the use of old magic. He must’ve had some ancestor who had that ability otherwise he wouldn’t be able to wield it. The seller noticed the slight glance the buyer had. “It took me three months for me to capture her.” The seller explained and the buyer only gave him a curt nod.   They walked past cell after cell, creature after creature until they were at their destination. A dark, solid door filled with multiple glowing locks. The buyer went to touch one but the seller slapped his hand away, instantly regretting his decision. “T-the l-l-locks can b-burn you.” The seller stuttered out, the buyer only giving him a glare after the explanation. So the seller was an old magic wielder specialised in defence. Interesting. The locks opened using sets of keys in the form of symbols which opened the locks. A secure way to keep whatever was in there trapped inside what looked like a basement of some sorts. The buyers’ eyes narrowed, getting used to the darkness. They walked down the stone steps, the sounds echoing through what seemed like a chamber before another door came into view, the keyhole glowing red. The seller brought out the key he originally selected. He put it in the lock and turned, a swirling red pattern started to glow throughout the door before he pushed inside.   The buyer saw a malnourished woman sitting on her knees. The shackles that held her arms up to the ceiling glowed the same red the door was. The buyer was sceptical, the more he stared the less he knew. Her head hung low to the floor, the scrap of cloth that vaguely looked like a dress was too big, making it look like a dirty brown bag on her. She was covered in dirt, her hair greasy. Not that the buyer cared. Why did the seller think this was worthy enough of his time? His eyes grew even colder, his stare could freeze time. The seller shook where he stood, not being able to do anything. “Why did you show me this…thing?” The woman was still lifeless but the room started to heat and the buyer turned towards the woman, her skin started to turn a pale red, as if she was burning from the inside. He walked forward towards the prisoner. He pulled on her hair forcefully, her head jutting upwards. Her eyes narrowed with so much disgust it almost offended him if he wasn’t too busy looking at her bright red eyes. “You use its ability against it?” The buyers’ cold eyes did not leave the creature. “I extract their blood and use it with magic.” The seller replied, proud of his craft. The buyer was impressed but didn’t show it. In his field, showing emotions was a weakness.   Another minute passed, the buyer scanning the creature. She was 5”10; underweight, her original hair colour was brown, although it was black from grime and dirt. Her ability was some sort of fire, judging by the pale red that was exploding through her body. He wasn’t sure what creature she was, but he didn’t care, her stats were enough for him to be interested in buying. “How much?” “Four million.” “Fine.” Currency was exchanged; the seller stuck out his hand for a shake but the buyer ignored it, waiting for the creature to be unshackled. Instead, the seller took the chains and made them vanish, making the creature crumple to the floor. A small chant was heard and a new set of chains was made, connecting the red shackles together, the seller passed the buyer the chain, grinning happily, probably thinking the customer would come back anytime soon.   The seller laughed as the buyer left with that creature after signing the contract. She had at least 10 previous owners before he had bought her, only for her to be taken back after a week. Of course, the seller wasn’t stupid enough to make a full refund otherwise he would be out of pocket. Buyers were stupid enough to not read the contract fully and could not do anything about the partial refund; after all, they did sign and agree to the sellers requirements. That creature was returned again and again for one reason: she apparently had a temper. A temper when the buyer wanted something… intimate from her. Her last buyer had more than enough interest to learn quickly how fiery that temper could be. The seller wondered how long it would be before he returned her. The buyer in question, Dagur, transported his new shield back. Now that they were outside of the shop, he could properly assess his new possession. One thing that he didn’t need to have a proper look at was how dirty the creature was. It made his face contort into disgust with every glance he made towards her. Profiling her was easy enough; the seller didn’t give Dagur any information to work with, though. The creature's name was Ember, quite fitting for her fire abilities, though he knew not of its origin. A lot of people didn’t know this, but profilers weren’t able to profile people if a certain spell was cast or drug was used. A protection spell or drug that could mask some of the persons profile, in this case it was her origin. Her family, birthplace, age and species were hidden, not allowing Dagur to give a thorough assessment. This creature knew what she was doing when it came to hiding her identity. What he did know were her sizes, weight, height, when she came to the seller, which was a year ago. Her strengths, weaknesses and especially her fire ability were interesting. The list could go on, but there was little personal information that he cared about and didn’t bother inspecting those. He didn’t care about her favourites or her dislikes and hobbies. He didn’t need to know those. Dagur needed someone capable of being his shield and would last longer than the others, and the creature seemed to be a worthy enough fit. The seller didn’t bother mentioning the temper she had, though. He wanted a quick sell and that was what he got. He also didn’t mention the 10 other buyers before him who sent her back for the same thing: the temper due to forced s****l intimacies. That temper stopped them by the looks of her other part of her profile that claimed she was untouched, but Dagur was not that way inclined. Being a bachelor in his line of work was easier and safer for himself, and for a potential partner. He smirked at the other 2 previous owners on the profile, both of which scorched to death, and definitely not mentioned by the seller. She was feisty, and that was something he needed.   Ember looked at the new master with a glare, she knew what he wanted, she didn’t need to know the language to realise it. The past 12 she was able to fight back, but this was unlucky number 13, a baker’s dozen, or whatever saying fitted the most. He felt his cold gaze on her, as if he was seeing right into her soul, and Ember didn’t like it one bit. What was he doing? His nose crinkled in disgust every now and again. So what if she smelt? She hadn’t been out of that cell for god knows how long; so of course she would smell funny! The fire inside her ignited, not wanting to feel like she was some disgusting caged animal that he now had to raise for his benefit, the fire within her rising throughout her body. Embers hands were clenched into fists, her legs stiff yet jelly-like as she walked as she was not used to standing and moving around so much. They turned into alleyways one way and another, constantly changing directions as if he was lost. Did he not know his way to his destination?   For Dagur, directions were not his strong suit. He had recently moved once again so he was still finding his way around the area. Sure, they took a few wrong turns, and the creature he just bought did not look appreciative of the extra exercise, but he didn’t care. After what felt like hours, which was in fact 20 minutes instead of what should have been 10, he finally found his new home. Fortunately, he had means of transportation that didn’t rely on his directional knowledge, but he had thought it would be simple enough to get back, as he had lived there for a couple of months. He was wrong. At least his work didn’t involve too much travel unaccompanied. He travelled with his boss or whoever the boss had hired him to most of the time and very rarely by himself. His home itself was on the top of a high rise building, they both walked in and the receptionist looked at the creature and scoffed, obviously not used to seeing someone in need of a good wash. But then again, Dagur presumed that she didn’t look in the mirror very often, her make-up was so thick he was sure she couldn’t get it all off and her hair looked as if birds lived in it as a nesting place with at least a whole can of hairspray to keep it in place. Dagur wondered how she was hired in the first place, but then he remembered his boss, who owned the building, had some peculiar taste in women. Women who took too much time working on their face than on their personality.   Dagur grabbed the creatures’ arm, the heat radiating from inside her skin but he ignored it, and dragged her into the lift and pressed a button to go to the penthouse. So far, no words were spoken to each other and Dagur preferred it that way. Useless conversation was, well, useless. “If you lay a hand on me I shall burn your balls into ash.” Dagur heard her talk in her mother tongue, not being able to translate just yet. Another ability Profilers have was being able to learn languages quickly, up to two hours of talking or listening in on people talking the other language. Dagur was fluent in many languages due to his ability which has helped him in many situations, both good and bad. He didn’t need to know the language to hear the venom in her voice, almost spitting out the sharp words. Her voice was sure and strong, another requirement of his when it came to his shields. Confidence, even if the shield is not sure if they can win the fight, is useful when it comes to trying to deter the enemy. He recognised the language and started picking it up by only a sentence. He had heard the language before, but only brief sentences that weren’t enough to learn the language fully. He had to make her talk.   Dagur had dragged the creature as soon as they went into his home to the bathroom; her screaming what he knew was foul insults. It was good for him to learn the language but also bad because he noticed how much brighter her skin was, almost the same red colour of her eyes, as if her skin was about to break into fire. “No! Stop it! I don’t want to, let me go!” Dagur smiled to himself, already learning what the creature was saying but it was misinterpreted, her eyes went wide and scared. His grip was terrifying to the creature, his hand around her arm like a vice, something she hadn’t encountered with her previous buyers. They were weak and overly cocky with nothing to show for it and it was easy for her to fight, but she knew her fighting was in vain with this buyer. He flung her into a room and slammed the door shut without a word.   Ember rubbed her arm, no doubt bruises would show soon, and looked around the room she was shoved into. It was a bathroom. Her skin calmed down a little. She almost lost control earlier, she was about to burst into flames and shift until she was in the bathroom. She felt her face wet with tears and fresh ones still running down her face. Ember didn’t want this; time and time again the same routine happened: dragged back to their home, washed, guided to the bedroom and she had to fight her way out before being sent back to the vile seller. Tears were washed away, replaced with the warm water. She needed the shower, but hated what it initiated. It seemed like forever as she washed dirt and grime off her body and out of her hair. Due to her ability, she was blessed with a smooth, hairless body although to her she didn’t like her genitalia looking like a prepubescent child even though she was all woman. The toiletries provided in the shower weren’t to her taste, but she couldn’t complain after how long without a shower and feeling fresh, even her monthly turmoil wasn’t taken care of in the cell she was kept in. But she could complain about what came after her shower. Dread ran through her body and made her feel sick. Her hands shook as she shampooed her hair, taking her time before the inevitable.   Some time had passed and Dagur wondered if she was dead already. Not that it mattered; he needed the full refund judging by the contract if something were to happen like that so he would get his money back. One thing that would irk him though would be the effort he put into his hobby for the creature: sewing. Stereotypes were things of the past in the New World and no matter what gender, all hobbies were thought to be calming and in this case, useful. Dagur usually didn’t do this for his shields but due to the creatures… assets, a new piece of clothing would be beneficial. He never had a female creature before so making new clothes wasn't necessary, he could just adjust his own to fit the previous shields, but he doubted this creature would appreciate clothing that was more suited for male appendages. Also that cloth she was wearing didn’t fit and wouldn’t be appropriate for her new job.