city_limits Messages In The Dark
There was something insidious about finding one's own premises having been violated. Even if no confrontation had taken place, those who suffered from robberies would attest to it being a somehow penetrative act, not too different from rape of a sexual nature.

That was part of why the Corruptress went as she pleased, pouring herself into private domains, like some disease-ridden oil slick, only to 'count coup' with tokens of favour or threat.

But the messages, themselves, always seemed to have some kind of resonating purpose behind them. Lady Elfleda hardly ever seemed to do things for trivial reasons. Always did a methodology exist, no matter how arcane or awash with poison.

For a certain employee of the FBI, the spectre of Elfleda seemed to have been risen for the first time since events in Nevada. Agent Andersen was getting entangled in the Corruptress' web, albeit in a professional manner and would, once arriving back home, find shards of burnt glass arranged upon her bed in such a manner as to spell out 'GOOD GIRL'.

Because, you see, sometimes Elfleda liked to be taken notice of. In fact, sometimes, Elfleda would reward, rather than punish or even simply, as with now, send a token of acknowledgement, allowing someone to know that, through their actions, they were actually doing the bidding of that which she served.

Agent Andersen might no longer be actively working for Wolfram and Hart, but she was, nevertheless, doing her own small part in assisting the forces of shadow, even without realising it.

I'm watching you, Elfleda's message all but said. I'm watching you and I've never stopped...