Page 135 of Eternal

AZRA

“The Great Gig In The Sky” by Pink Floyd

Present

W e crept upstairs quietly. The guards were exactly where I expected, two by the door, scanning faces like vultures. The other four are probably scattered around the place, probably to make sure no unwanted nuisance would appear.

Damir caught my eye, and without a word, he stepped in front of me, his body pressing mine against the cold wall.

My leg came up, hooked tight around his waist.

His hand slid up my neck, fingers warm under my jaw, like we were simply another couple playing pretend in this place.

But I’m pretty sure we weren’t pretending.

“Play the game, partner ,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine before he bit my earlobe, not gently. I gasped. He smiled like he’d been waiting for that sound. “ Fuck , I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he breathes, voice heavy against my skin.

A kiss. A lick. A bite.

My dress pushed higher, his hands everywhere, like he couldn’t decide whether to keep pretending or claim me.

I felt dizzy.

From him . From the way his breath stuttered against my collarbone like he forgot, for a second, that this was a mission.

His other hand slid down my back, slow, tracing the line of my spine through the fabric. When he reached the small of it, he pressed pulling me flush against him. “I hate that they’re watching you like this,” he whispered, voice gravel against my skin. “When you're all high on pleasure.”

Then, with a quiet, almost cruel precision, he gripped my jaw, angling my face toward the guards, and kissed below my ear, where my pulse stuttered. “Smile for them.”

The guards nodded to each other and passed, eyes watching but not stopping.

Damir straightened, smoothing his jacket. “They’re buying it,” he whispered, satisfied.

“They are,” I smiled and he grabbed my hand to start walking ahead.

The hallway stretched in front of us. Compared to the party downstairs, it was cold and silent.

A guard turned the corner, too casual and too slow .

The knife was already out. One step, one breath, slit him clean, no scream, only a wet and pathetic sound.

A second guard rushed, eyes locked on me like he thought he had time, like I was alone.

He didn’t see Damir, didn’t even get a word out.

Damir caught him mid-step, hand to throat, slammed him against the wall so hard the plaster cracked.

“ Ts ts ts ,” he muttered, a low chuckle, almost tender. “Never her.”

The man struggled, kicked, fingers scrabbling at his arm.

But Damir didn’t move, he simply leaned in, slowly.

“You touched her with your eyes,” he said, sounding deadly calm. Then, a twist. A grotesque, sickening crunch. Spine or windpipe, maybe both.

The body dropped. Twitched once. Damir looked down at it like it bored him. Like it was trash.

Then, he crouched beside them, checking for anything useful, weapons, earpieces, anything that might tell us where the others were.

He stripped the guns from both bodies and handed me one. Then we dragged them into a blind corner under the staircase, a small carpeted storage nook hidden from view.

Limbs bent, heads tucked. Faces gone.

The red carpet was soaked with the blood of the man I killed, but we couldn’t see anything on that black carpet. Perfect .

The office was ahead, tucked at the end of the alley, plain door, no name.

“It’s silent… No one is inside. Where is he?” I whispered.

“Either back to his room,” Damir muttered, “or watching the whole damn party from somewhere we can’t see.”

I stepped up to the lock, no keypad, no retina scan. It was a regular keyhole, and I dug into the side seam of my dress and pulled out the pin I’d stashed there earlier. Not ideal, but it would work.

Deep breath. Pin in. Feel the click. One. Two. Three… There . Got it.

The lock gave with a soft click. And I pushed the door open and stepped back.

Damir’s voice came right behind me, soft and amused. “Who taught you that?”

I glanced over my shoulder. He was next to me, holding a gun in one hand.

I shrugged. “Did it a lot when I was younger.”

Didn’t say more, didn’t say they used to lock me in at night, didn’t say I had to pick the door to get out to get to the fights, to breathe, to be anywhere else but that house even if it wasn’t safer.

Simply said: did it a lot. When I was younger.

He came closer, slipped the gun into his jacket, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

The office was big, sleek, expensive, but nothing strange at first glance. Desk, bar cart, untouched leather chairs.

Damir came in behind me, quiet. And we started. We were careful.

Everything we touched while searching, we put back the same way. Damir handled the cabinets. I moved through the desk. Paperwork, invoices, boring stuff that looked deliberately boring.

But then, I opened the bottom drawer.

Papers again, stacked neat. But when I shifted the middle set slightly, I felt its weight. Not paper .

I slid the stack aside. A laptop. Slim. Powered off. Hidden.

I’d only wrapped my fingers around it when I heard footsteps and voices getting closer.

“The Boss left his phone in here.”

I looked up. Damir was already moving. Eyes on me, hand out. He didn’t speak.

I stuffed the laptop back under the papers, closed the drawer softly, and crossed the room in two quick steps.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him into the closet. The door clicked shut behind us just as the office door opened.

Dark.

Tight.

I shifted slightly, trying to find a bit of space, but it was impossible.

From outside, I heard the guards’ voices casually talking about the party, how smoothly everything was going.

His body pressed hard against my back, hands settling on my waist.

“Stop moving like that,” he murmured, voice rough.

That’s when I realized.

He was… hard .

“Really?” I whispered, “This close to danger, and that’s all you can think about?”

He let out a low, unamused chuckle, his hand drifting down to my hip, holding me firmly in place. His mouth brushed my ear as he spoke, “You're awfully loud for someone who’s hiding for her life.”

I shifted, arching back into him, as his hand slid down, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. His fingers stopped, barely short of anything truly scandalous, making my pulse race.

“Awfully touchy today, but I strangely need it.” I let out.

He kissed the crook of my neck, pressing his fingers a little closer. “You’re too tense. Let me help you, partner .” A lick, behind my ear, slow and long, “Consider this stress relief.”

His hand slipped beneath my dress again, this time rougher, his fingers slick with his own cum on the lace panties I’d taken off earlier and now wore again.

He grinned darkly. “Oh fuck , I forgot you had these on.”

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, breath shaky but relaxed. “It is stress relieving.”

A whimper, a moan maybe, I don’t know but I was still really sensitive. It's insane how easily my body replies to him. It’s not fire, it’s tender, even the pleasure I feel right now, it’s building slowly, but it's pleasant.

Then, from the narrow crack in the closet door, I caught movement. One of the guards was close, really close to the closet. He was distracted, keys in hand, unaware of what was hidden only feet away. And his friend took a glass from the bar at the end of the office to take a drink.

Not the time for them to have a conversation for fuck’s sake.

Damir’s hand came up and gently covered my mouth. “ Shhh ,” he murmured against my ear. “Come on. Be quiet for me.”

I froze for a second, breath caught under his palm. Then his fingers found their way deeper inside me, curling, pressing hard against my clit, slow but insistent, like he wanted to keep me right on the edge but calm enough.

My mouth was sealed by his hand, but his voice was warm and steady in my ear. “It’s me. You can feel that, right, partner ?”

I nodded against his palm, heart hammering.

It’s him . And it feels good. It feels safe . Even in this situation it's safer than it ever was with anyone else.

Close your eyes. It’s him.

“I really want you to feel good. I want you to trust that you’re safe. No need to stress,” he whispered, fingers curling tighter. “Nothing else matters.”

The guard’s footsteps faded as he walked away.

His fingers moved faster, harder, curling deep inside me, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. The rush hit me, raw, fiercely, shaking me to my core.

A sharp inhale caught under his palm.

“You need to hold it for me,” Damir whispered, “Only a few seconds more, baby . He’s getting out.”

I clenched, desperate to obey, every muscle tight and trembling. He pulled back, lips brushing my ear with a dark smile. “You can let go now, Azra.”

He turned me around and caught my moan in a kiss.

The office door clicked shut behind them.

Silence .

We stayed still for another breath. Maybe two.

Then before he reached for the closet door, he leaned in. “Now you can focus,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth brushing my jaw. “Got that out of your system?”

I exhaled, steadier than before. My legs were still shaky, but my head was clearer. “Shut up,” I muttered.

He smirked. “Back to work, then.”

The door opened, and we stepped out.

I headed straight to the desk and pulled the laptop from where I’d hidden it.

Damir moved around the other side, opening drawers and tapping along the edges, checking for false bottoms or hidden compartments.

I lifted the hem of my dress to pull the thin black cable from where it was tucked into the lining. A custom connector, magnetic, flexible, built to link my phone to almost anything.

I plugged it into the laptop’s port and opened the hijack app on my phone. The code deployed in seconds, tunneling into the system, eating through encryption one layer at a time.

Behind me, a drawer clicked open.

“Found it,” Damir said.

I turned my head and saw the folded invitation in his hand, matte black, embossed, expensive. This month’s sermon.

The laptop unlocked, screen flickering to life. I stayed low, fingers moving fast. Mail app. Dozens of messages. No subject lines that made sense. Code names, symbols, placeholders. I scanned until one caught my eye.

This Month’s Choices.

I clicked it. At first, it was a simple white background, but then the images loaded.

Rows of children. Lit in harsh, clinical light. Too many faces. Staring at the camera. Blank . Some smiling, the kind adults make you do when you’re scared.

Each one tagged. Names. Ages. Prices.

Like they were being sorted. Labeled. Ordered.

I stopped breathing.

Girls. Boys. Some looked barely five. Others maybe twelve, thirteen.

None of them looked real. Not in the way they should’ve. They were framed, displayed, like something to buy.

My throat closed. The screen blurred.

No, no, no ? —

I blinked hard. I tried to swallow. I couldn’t. The nausea rose like a wave in my throat.

The office felt colder now. Smaller. Like it was pressing in. I looked away for a second. Then I looked back. Still there. Still real.

This was what they were doing. This was what we were standing inside.

And I snapped.

Not a flinch. Not a scream. Something ripped. Quietly. Deep. Inside me.

The screen blurred, but I saw everything. The faces. Their lives. The fear. The empty gaze.

I knew those eyes. I had those eyes once.

It was quiet. But it was loud for people who understand that pain doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it stares. Waiting . Waiting for someone to finally end it.

A voice rose up from the bottom of my chest.

Not mine. Hers.

The girl I used to be. The one they locked away.

The one who learned to stay quiet. Stay small. Stay alive.

She wasn't whispering now. She was screaming.

Kill them.

Kill them.

KILL THEM.

My hands trembled. My nails bit into the desk.

Kill them. Burn everything. No mercy. No exceptions.

Hunt. Kill. Repeat. No one gets out.

Blood for blood. Break their bones. Make them beg.

“They don't get to breathe,” I heard myself say out loud. “Not after this.”

Rip their names from this earth. No pause. Let them feel what they built.

The voice is so loud.

She’s screaming. Loud. Fucking loud.

Damir stepped closer, slowly. I felt him before I saw him.

He didn’t speak at first, he simply watched me. And he knew.

“I’m going to destroy him,” I said. “Him. Every guard. Every guest in that place.” I turned to him, eyes wild, throat raw. “If this is too far for you, you can leave now.”

He didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch.

Instead, he stepped in. Brushed a shaking strand of hair off my cheek. Kissed my forehead. Then my temple. Then lower.

His lips found my ear, and his voice was a quiet vow, “Partner, I’m here, right?”