Page 7 of The Raven

Drugs Will Inevitably Kill You

The Raven

I couldn’t shake Detective Mason Roberts from my head. Anytime I thought of him, a strange pulling sensation cascaded through my body, followed by the uncontrollable urge to be near him.

It started from the minute he saw me outside Boogie’s apartment, growing stronger as I watched through the eyes of my faithful raven, as he examined the crime scene I’d left behind.

I was utterly fascinated by the meticulous way Mason worked.

Not one inch of the mess I’d left behind went without his scrutiny.

As the hours ticked by, I found myself wondering if Detective Roberts had been the one to examine the crime scene left behind by the Vipers nearly a year ago in my apartment.

If the cops had been as thorough as Mason was in Boogie’s apartment, why weren’t the men responsible for rape and murder locked away, rotting in a prison cell for the rest of their miserable lives?

Or was it all a front? Did the cops of Hadleigh Peak make it look as if they were conducting an in-depth investigation, but as soon as they returned to the station, the case file was stamped with an ‘UNSOLVED’ label and put to the back of a filing cabinet, forever forgotten?

That would explain why Grim and his boys were still walking and talking like they owned the town.

When the sun began to rise, and Mason headed to his apartment with heavy bags under his eyes, I didn’t want that to be the last time I saw him. I wanted to ask my questions.

How I knew where he lived, though, I didn’t know. I just…did. Or rather, the raven led me to his apartment as if she knew he was exactly what I needed right at that moment.

As much as I had wanted to ask him questions about the investigation into what happened to me and Eric, I found myself struggling to articulate the words because the strangest thing happened.

The closer I was to him, the constant pain swirling in my body began to ebb.

I was only in his apartment for a matter of minutes, and yet, a sense of calm and peace I had been craving since waking up in purgatory descended with every breath Mason took.

The immense need to move closer to him began to overpower me, my fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch him, desperate to experience something other than the nightmare I was stuck in.

But just as the conversation moved to the night in question, my bird reminded me of the clock ticking down to finish what I’d started.

It was time to deal with my next target, which was why I was waiting down a dark alley with my hood pulled as far over my face as possible, hiding in the shadows for Ziggy’s arrival.

Despite one of his boys croaking it, Grim wasn’t letting Boogie’s untimely demise get in the way of business. There were drugs to be sold.

Money to be made.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, tuning into my raven flying over Ziggy’s car, tracking his movements as he made his way to the meeting point, thinking he was going to be meeting one of his regulars.

Knowing he was still a few minutes away, I pushed all thoughts of Detective Mason Roberts from my mind and let my memories consume me, ready to inflict my pain onto Ziggy.

Numbness sweeps through me, and my brain shuts down to protect me from the surrounding nightmare. From behind, Pyro takes his turn, his fingers gripping my hips savagely as he brutally pounds into me.

My tearful gaze is fixed firmly on Eric’s lifeless corpse as whimpers of despair escape me. How had we gone from a romantic evening, drinking wine and planning our wedding, to this?

Grim. That’s how.

Movement behind Eric catches my eye, and I watch as Ziggy flops onto my couch and begins fiddling with a small packet in his hand. A second later, he tips the contents out: a small heap of white powder.

He grabs the credit card I’d abandoned on the table when the gang burst in, and uses it to move the powder into a line. I’d been using my credit card to pay for the wedding flowers. Flowers I would never get to see, for a wedding that would never take place.

I tune out Pyro’s attack and the laughter emitting from the others as they destroy my apartment, my attention focused on Ziggy, and my silent pleas for him to look at me so I can ask for help, even though I know I won’t get help from any of them.

But he doesn’t look my way, too fixated on the cocaine he’s preparing to snort. He rolls a dollar bill up, and his eyes light with glee as he stares at the powder.

“Dude, you know, drugs are gonna kill you one day?” Grim says, humor in his voice as he pauses his destruction of a frame containing a photo of Eric and me at our engagement party, my mom and stepdad hugging us both as we celebrated.

Ziggy ignores him, lining up the rolled-up note before snorting the coke and throwing his head back in ecstasy after the powder disappears up his nose. “Yeah, but what a fucking way to go,” he whoops, his voice hoarse.

Grim rolls his eyes, returning to smash the photo clutched in his hands while the others chortle.

A painful slap to my ass brings me back to Pyro’s thrusting before his body stills and he empties inside of me, his come mixing with Grim’s and Butch’s, who have already taken their turn to rape me.

Ziggy snorts a second line and stands. When our eyes finally meet, I find his are bloodshot, and his pupils wide while he wears a menacing grin on his face.

He unbuckles his pants and winks at me. “My turn.”

Unashamedly, he pulls his hard cock out, not caring that the others mock him for being smaller than they are. Pyro moves, and Ziggy takes his place.

I close my eyes as he pushes inside me, and my brain must decide it has had enough because the next thing I’m aware of is the tangy smell of weed polluting the air around me as Ziggy sits on the couch smoking a joint, a sated grin on his face.

Pain seared my body at the images swirling like a vortex in my brain and almost making my knees buckle. But when a car stopped at the end of the alleyway I was loitering in, I embraced the anguish, ready to unleash it on my target.

When Buck stepped out of the driver’s seat, a flash of panic shot through me. I wasn’t prepared for him. I started to slink further into the shadows, ready to abandon my plan, until the man in question got out of the passenger seat.

I frowned. Usually, Ziggy made his deliveries alone. Perhaps Grim was taking the threat to his boys more seriously than I first thought.

As he should have been.

I quickly deliberated as Buck joined Ziggy on the sidewalk. I had enough gear on me to deal with both men, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed at the prospect of killing Buck right then. I had something extra special planned for his demise.

But I didn’t have to make the decision. On the opposite side of the road to where their car was parked, a woman emerged from the front of a strip club, hollering loudly to get Buck’s attention.

Buck spun to look at the blonde woman who was wearing nothing but a bright pink sparkly bralette and matching hot pants. Her painted red lips moved as she spoke to him, too far away for me to hear, and then pulled into a salacious smile.

Turning his attention to Ziggy, Buck’s grin matched the woman’s. He patted Ziggy’s back before taking off across the road and pulling the woman into his arms, leaving Ziggy to make his deal alone as the woman led him inside the club.

I rolled my eyes.

Too busy getting his cock wet to worry about his buddy’s safety. It went in my favor though, I could stick to my original plans for the two of them.

Chuckling to himself and shaking his head, Ziggy started his final walk to where I waited for him, still hidden in the shadows. With my head bowed, I watched from the corner of my eye as he traipsed toward me, no doubt wondering why his usual contact wasn’t there to meet him.

Simple answer. His usual contact was unconscious, his limp body hidden in a dumpster. I’d injected enough heroin into his system to keep him quiet for a few hours.

“Where’s Barry?” Ziggy said as he neared me.

I kept my head down. “Couldn’t make it. Sent me instead,” I replied, disguising my voice.

Ziggy stopped in front of me. “Not good enough, I don’t deal with anyone but Barry.”

“That’s a shame, I was really looking forward to getting reacquainted with you.”

Without warning, I launched for him. He didn’t have time to react before I grabbed his head, my palms against his temples. The sudden movement caused my hood to fall, revealing my face.

“Ra…Raven?!” Ziggy choked out, his face twisted in disbelief.

“Hey, Ziggy. Good to see you again.”

I closed my eyes and summoned all the memories to the front of my mind, transferring every ounce of trauma and misery from my body into Ziggy’s as the memories swirled.

The fear.

The heartache.

The fight for survival when a plastic bag was tied around my head.

The deep burn in my lungs as my air slowly dwindled.

Ziggy writhed against my hold, doing his best to throw me off until the excruciating agony began to consume him. Just like it had done when I poured my memories into Boogie, Ziggy’s features contorted into horror as his body froze, and he stopped fighting against me.

Still, I didn’t let up.

I wanted him to feel everything he and the rest of the Vipers did to me. I wanted him to feel what it was like to be helpless. What it felt like to watch as the man you loved was slaughtered in front of you, and there wasn’t a single thing you could do to stop it.

When the anguish circling my body began to recede, I released Ziggy. His legs buckled, and he hit the concrete with a deafening thud before sluggishly pushing himself on his ass until his back pressed against the dumpster Barry was hidden in.

“How…” Ziggy stuttered, barely able to hold his head up to look at me as I towered over him.

“My good luck and your bad fortune?” I suggested, shrugging.

“I watched you die!” Ziggy roared, his voice reverberating along the length of the alley.

“So you did. And now, I get to watch you die,” I replied, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the two syringes filled with acid and a discarded dog collar I’d found while waiting for Ziggy.

His eyes widened in fear as I crouched in front of him, his breathing becoming erratic. “Wait, Raven. What…what are you doing?”

He tried to raise his hands, but his body was failing him, just like mine had failed me.

I ignored him as I wrapped the dog collar around his bicep. He was only wearing a t-shirt, giving me easy access to his arms. The shirt stunk of weed, telling me cannabis was already swimming through Ziggy’s veins, along with any other shit he’d consumed before his meeting.

He thrashed, trying to pull his arm out of my grasp as I tightened the collar, but like Boogie, the pain dominating him removed his strength. When a vein began to bulge in the crook of his elbow, I tore off the cap of one of the syringes with my teeth, careful not to get any of the contents on me.

The acid might not have killed me, but I didn’t need to experience the pain Ziggy was about to.

“I’m not an expert at this, Ziggy. You’ll have to forgive me if I fuck it up.”

“No, wait…Raven-”

His cries of protest were cut short as I jabbed the needle into the vein and pressed down on the plunger, pushing the acid directly into Ziggy’s bloodstream.

It took less than ten seconds for his limbs to start twitching.

After another ten seconds, his entire body began to convulse.

I watched in morbid fascination, imagining the acid burning through muscle and tissue as it traveled to Ziggy’s organs.

Screams of distress tore from his mouth as he met my eyes, his shining in desperation.

“Help…me…please,” he moaned, spewing white foam from his mouth.

I smirked, narrowing my eyes at him. “Help you like you helped me?” His response was a garbled mess. Leaning forward so my face was inches away from his, my smirk grew wider. “You should have listened to Grim. Drugs will inevitably kill you.”

I shoved the second syringe into Ziggy’s stomach, having knocked the cap off without him seeing, and piercing his shirt. The contents disappeared into his stomach as I once again pressed the plunger.

Terror filled his bloodshot eyes as his breathing slowed and grew labored from where the acid had reached his lungs. I leaned forward again, this time even closer.

“But what a fucking way to go, right?” I whispered, repeating the words he’d once said.

Blood dripped from his nose, a small trickle turning into a waterfall from both nostrils. When he coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth, I stood, grimacing, and not wanting to get his blood on me.

A wave of peace crested through me as life drained from his eyes.

Two down, four to go.