An Assassin and a Serial Killer

The doll shop's door emitted a low creak as Yazmin slithered inside. The dolls inside are as impressive as the ones on display.

A female noble in a dress. A male knight in armor shining armor. A female tiefling wearing cleric robes. There were no shortage on the variety of dolls. Yazmin continued slithering, adjusting her vest so she won't get poked by the knives hidden underneath.

Yazmin stopped in front of the buff orc carrying a battle axe almost her size. A toned physique wearing tribal leather clothing that exposed its muscular arms and abs. Its green skin was close enough to the real skin tone had it not for the bright, doll-like shine it had. But the real giveaway feature that they are no more than mere dolls are the ball joints.

(Impressive craftsmanship.) Yazmin praised mentally. The accuracy reminded her or the statues produced by Medusa's gift. But how will the said statues fare when pitted against these dolls in a battle of artistry?

Yazmin's keen senses heard the coming of footsteps into her direction.

"Oh my, a Gorgon! This is my first time receiving one as a customer. You can call me Izma." The man bowed. "Do tell if any of the dolls fancy your taste!"

Sharply dressed and polite, just what you would expect from a business owner. Yazmin found nothing wrong with those qualities.

However, murderers have certain predilections with what to do with their victims. A fellow guild member of Yazmin once cut locks of hair from every kill, another took a single fingernail from each of her mark. These little actions serves no other purpose other than to have a collection, a collage to immortalize their sins of claiming lives in trade of gold. And the most extreme out of them all, was Zisha, one who would go through great lengths to petrify her victims just so she could decorate her garden.

This behavior reminded her of the serial killer they are hunting, how their victims were almost exclusively females. Yazmin has nothing to go on but a guess but it is pretty odd how the female dolls in the shops outnumbered the male ones in a 4:1 ratio.

"These dolls of yours are all of fine make, can you divulge the wood you used to make them or is that craft secret?" Yazmin questioned, turning her back onto the man so she could observe the doll once again.

"Certainly. They are all carved from treants by yours truly." Izma answered with pride.

"Did you know that wood golems are made from killed treants? The magic in the wood allows them use mana if needed. You would achieve almost the same quality but with a lower price if you used Elderwood. Wouldn't you agree?"

The burgeoning suspicion within Yazmin's questions flew over Izma's head. He was once again entranced at the exoticness of this gorgon right in front of her.

Legends say that gorgon's posses unparalleled beauty underneath their masks, combine that with those slender hips of hers and this gorgon would surely make for one exquisite doll! Letting the mermaid go from before haunted him with regrets, he must seize the moment while she is still the only patron in this shop!

Izma's excitement made his heart thunder, his hand reaching out to nest of snakes on top of Yazmin's head, all so he could put a feel on now to sculpt such a complicated set of hair for her soon to be Gorgon doll.

Suddenly, Yazmin heard Izma cry out in pain from behind.

"Ow! Motherfucker! Your snakes bit me!" Izma shouted, clutching his right hand.

The snakes all hiss, baring their fangs at the man, warning them they will bite again if his hand closes in even if it's an inch. Yazmin smiled. Petting her snakes as if congratulating them for a job well done.

"As they should. You dare lay your hands on my snakes, you pay the price. If I were you I'm going to start running to the nearest cleric temple. No healing potion will work against my venom."

Only a few seconds has passed and Izma could already see the swelling in the areas it by the stupid snakes. Necrosis was starting to settle in as the are around the words show discoloration.

The words that the Dollmaker uttered next sealed his suspicion that they were the person they are looking for.

"I'll go and heed your advice…" The benevolence from Izma's demeanor slips into a twisted grin. Moving without a sound, the orc doll from behind the Gorgon raised its battle axe up high. "...right after I harvest your soul!"

The battle axe came crashing down with such force that it would no doubt embed itself on Yazmin's shoulder.

The suspicions she had from the beginning along with her intuition honed through many assassinations warned her that these may not be ordinary dolls. Thus, she was able to draw daggers under her vest, locking them together above her head to shield her from the oncoming blow!

Such a display of reflex stunned the dollmaker. However, he had no time to admire her skills when the likely next target of her daggers would be him! Izma paralleled both of his hands to produce an above average fireball, looking like a miniature sun. He might be a washed up mage, but a spell of this caliber should incapacitate the Gorgon, if it does not outright kill her.

Even Yazmin came to the conclusion that getting hit by the fireball is not going to be a pleasant experience. As the fireball reached its maturity, in the split second that Izma was about to unleash his spell, Yazmin resorted to the Gorgon's very own version of throwing sand in your enemies' eyes. Yazmin's tail coiled around Izma's ankle, pulling him like a rug.

With a surprised scream, Izma's fireball was launched into the ceiling destroying it. An explosion so loud would no doubt prompt the investigation of the city guards while alerting her party member in the process. Yazmin smirked. It was all perfect.

"Let go of me, you damned snake…"

Izma's demand warranted the opposite, Yazmin's powerful tail instead exerted enough pressure to break his ankle. The crisp, cracking of bones were soon followed by Izma's agonizing scream that filled his shop.

…AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"You will pay for this, you will fucking pay!" Izma glared, never mind turning her into a doll, this Gorgon must die.

While Yazmin still locked weapons with the orc, the preternatural activity of the dolls raised her guard further. With a wooden creak, the dolls surrounding them all turned their gazes at her all in the same eerie fashion, their unsettling focused eyes foretold of the souls trapped within.

Embodying their master's wrath, the dolls all moved to attack the Gorgon. For the oncoming assault of magical automatons, Yazmin would need all of the agility at her disposal. Clicking her tongue underneath her mask, Yazmin let go of Izma's ankle.

"Kill her! Kill her and make sure she suffers for what she did to me!"