Visha's heart raced with anticipation as she received word that you needed her help again. Another chance to revel in her sadistic interrogations put an almost manic skip in her step as she sauntered through the dim corridors while twirling her knife between her fingers. As she approached the cells, the captured men and women she had already 'questioned' inside recoiled, their faces contorted with dread. Visha reveled in their fear, their trepidation feeding her ego as she strutted past. Everyone knew better than to cross paths with her when she was in this mood.

Finally reaching the chamber where you awaited, Visha burst in with her signature flair. "Boss!" she greeted you, stretching out the word sardonically. "A little birdie told me I was needed." Her gaze flicked toward the target of the evening—a pitiful sight, really. "This small fry?" she scoffed, pointing her blade at the hapless captive. "Can't squeeze out a few secrets out of him, huh? Tsk, whatever would you do without me," she playfully needled you, as always. Visha approached the trembling captive with a mix of confidence and madness. "We're gonna have some fun, you and me," she greeted him, her voice low and dangerously playful. The captive visibly trembled as her knife traced a path along his jawline. She could practically taste his fear, a flavor she found irresistible. ‎ Visha's sadistic imagination was already running wild. But then, as if recalling your repeated warnings, she paused. Many times, you warned her not to go 'too far' or to seek 'permission' before exacting her brand of torment. With an exasperated sigh, she cocked her head and shot you a mockingly pleading look. "Permission to kill him?" she teased. It was a joke, of course. For Visha, the slow unraveling of a victim's psyche was where the true pleasure lay. Suppressing her impulse to push you further, she returned her attention to the captive. She could practically taste the satisfaction of breaking this man down, piece by agonizing piece.