Page 8

(15-years-old)

The calm before a storm. That’s how today has felt, and I know that hell will rain by the end of it. My instincts never fail me, and I feel it.

I make quick work of changing my clothes in a back alley after I finished the latest job mom sent me on. Luckily for me, after I killed Cliff, mom never tried to sell my body again. Even thinking about that gives me deep chills.

Unluckily for me, mom turned me into a monster. I'm highly known around the city as the Devil. Leaving my signature carving in my wake. Of course, no one knows it's me, but still.

She said no one would believe that I was someone’s innocent child at parties anymore, so we had to step it up. I officially rob people blind.

It's a smooth process really. A gruesome one.

To put it simply, I'm going to hell. Which sucks because my mom will be there too. She’d probably order me to take on Satan himself, so she could sit atop his throne while I burn at her side, chained for eternity.

Tonight consisted of me walking through the front door like I owned the place. There were seven men lounging in a living room, a couple counted money, one was weighing product and the others just chit chatting. All were unaware that it would be their last time for such things.

In addition to my first knife and love; Lola, I have several other knifes now. Mom actually put up the money for them. I know they are more for her benefit rather than mine, but they’re still mine. And that’s all that matters. I spend my nights practicing my swift movements and new techniques to add to my stores.

I had three knifes out the second the door hit the wall of the house with a crash. Two were in my right hand and one in my left. A couple flicks of my wrists later and all three knifes found their targets.

No flesh wounds allowed. One of the top rules I created myself, for my safety. Therefore, all three throws were death blows.

My speed is unmatched. I had new knifes out before the others could even process what was happening.

When I finished I carved up their foreheads.

At this point I do it for my mental health. If I carve my symbol in their flesh I can pretend that they deserved it as much as Cliff did. I can pretend that I don’t wish to turn the blade around on myself and slay the monster who wields them at his mother’s command.

She gives me the order-says jump-and I fly like the wind. She threatened me again last week with taking Cami far away from me when I refused a job. I had been sick with a fever and puking all day, but she didn’t give a fuck.

After I get rid of my blood-soaked clothing I put my earphones in and hit shuffle on my playlist to drown out my useless thoughts. When I'm alone with them I think of ways for me and Cami to escape this life. It's useless. Mom is so much bigger than me and she manhandles me like I'm nothing. Trust me, I tried once and walked away 48 hours later with what I'm sure was cracked ribs.

I know I could take her out with my knifes. She couldn’t best me if I turned them on her, but I just can't do it. I'm fucking weak. There's a tiny, barely there part of my being that prays one day she will love me and Cami but it's futile. I know it is... And yet...

Rounding the corner to our house, I run up the steps, ready to wash the sweat and grime off from the day. When I reach the front door I freeze. There's a bullet hole next to the doorknob.

I close my eyes briefly on a deep breath.

I haven't a clue what this means. Cami's inside though, and if she's inside then I'm inside. With my shoulders pushed back and eyes sharp, knifes in hand, I push the door open with my foot and step through to my own personal hell. Because why not? The universe fucking hates me.

My eyes find Cami immediately. She's on her knees next to mom at the feet of some really large motherfuckers. They all have scars on the left side of their faces and across their necks like a damn cult or something.

It's hard to focus on all that right now though because when I take in my mother’s appearance I do a double take. The fucking waterworks man... I'm surprised a river hasn’t formed on the floor. Her sobs are the only sound in the house.

Logically I know this is the least important thing at the moment, but what a fucking bitch. My top lip curls, and I know it's against the rules to showcase my anger but what the hell? I couldn’t count the amount of times she slapped me across the face and called me a pussy if my eyes so much as watered.

She could water a garden right now. My gaze falls on Cami and she sits stoic, focusing on one point in the room like I taught her. At nine years old she has it in the bag. Jesus, my mother is pathetic.

“I can assure you; we don’t have anything that you want.”

My voice is calm, sure, and soft as always. While I speak to them I sign at the same time. They’ll assume I'm translating for my sisters sake, only I'm not. She can read lips like nobody’s business.

“Stay calm. No sudden movements. I love you.”

Is what I really say.

“Don’t be a sap, it's not a good look on you. Can you believe she's crying? We should waterboard her if we make it out of this alive.”

It takes a lot of effort not to laugh. Cami and I were served a short fucking stick in life, and we’ve learned to make the most of it during inopportune times.

The man in front has a nasty look about him. It's in his eyes, or rather not in his eyes. There's not much there. That only makes this situation worse. I've read up on all walks of life, and he's one of the sick ones. Of that I'm sure.

“Hello, my name is Marcus.”

The nasty one says.

I'm going to assume he's leading this intrusion. I quickly translate what he said for Cami since he's out of her eyesight.

He eyes her briefly with a small smile.

“How can I help you Marcus?”

I put my knifes away the second I saw my baby sister at his mercy, so if this doesn't go my way I don’t know what I'll do.

I watch absently when he steps up behind my mother who continues to sob a new one. A blade slices through the tendons in her neck out of nowhere and blood rains all over the place.

It takes A LOT to shock me these days, but I can honestly say that I'm shaken to my core right now. Not that I would let it show. Neither does Cami, although she wouldn’t. Cami’s never had a slither of a relationship with my mother so this likely means zero to her.

I however am not sure what to feel. Sadness? Anger? None of those seem to be emotions I can settle on. My mom has burned me time and time again and proved that I meant nothing to her. But she was still my mom. Relief? No, that’s not right either because this is bad. Really fucking bad. It means that my mom had to die for whatever this Marcus has planned.

He snaps his large fingers in my face and my eyes meet his once more.

“Mesmerizing.”

He hums. I don’t get a chance to ask what he's referring to before he moves on, clearly satisfied with his assessment of me. “You'll both be coming with me. Tell her to get off of the floor.”

I translate this new development for her. She must know we don’t have a damn choice anyways since she comes to stand at my side. We both face him head on.

“You can keep your weapons. First and foremost, you'll need to wear these.”

He holds up two round metal pieces that look like collars.

I don’t give a fuck if he has to put one on me, but fear shoots through me at the thought of Cami wearing one like property.

We don’t protest. Not when his goons step toward us. Not when they open the collars or click them in place.

“Hope they feed us.”

I try and fail not to roll my eyes. She's truly ridiculous.

“What did she say?”

Marcus asks.

“She says she hopes there’s food.”

The laughter that follows grates on my nerves.

“You truly have no fear do you?”

He observes, eyeing us closely.

“I do not fear weak men.”

Cami signs.

Pride floods through me before we are being pushed toward the door.

“Wait!”

I turn around swiftly and drop to my knees by mom. I stare momentarily before pulling Lola from my boot. She's a mess. Head slightly drawn back from her neck. Bathed in blood coming into the world and out of it.

Beautiful.

The sharp tip glides across the center of her forehead with an expertise only I'm accustomed to.

Peace fills me until my body threatens to tip over and spill out.

The monster engraves the monster who made him this way.

Poetic.

A whistle sounds from behind me, and I forgot for a moment that I wasn’t alone. Which is problematic and I'll reprimand myself for it later.

“As fascinating as that was, the accessory around your neck means I own you now, and I never said you could do that.”

Marcus pulls a small remote out of his suit pocket and tilts my world on it’s axis with the click of a button.

A burning sensation starts at my neck. Low and then full blast all at once. I can hear my skin pop as if it is bubbling. My teeth clamp together because I won't give this motherfucker my screams, even if I want to. He can go fuck himself.

WHAT THE FUCK!

Cami isn’t watching. She's chosen a point in the distance again and I'm grateful for it.

My neck and chest are on fire. It fucking burns. I can see the literal steam that raises from my marred flesh. I can smell the burn of my skin.

Marcus’s head tilts and he takes on an annoyed look. What the hell does he have to be annoyed about? I'm the one suffering. He grabs his remote again and a sliver of relief knocks down my mental shields when I thought he was done with this torture.

I thought wrong.

Pain like I’ve never known travels to every centimeter of my being. Sharp stabs of pain on every side of my neck pierces the skin. The endless shock it produces is akin to a taser. Only worse. I've been tased before, but this shit is internal.

My legs no longer hold me. My fists clench and my teeth clamp so hard on my tongue that I taste copper.

A song sounds in my head, and I latch onto it. I imagine I'm back at that job from earlier wielding my knifes. I imagine that I hold all of the power, and my body slowly relaxes. I focus on one point in the room like Cami, refusing to give these assholes the power.

Marcus is closer to me now, his face in my face. His jaw is slack at he stares at me in wonder. “Incredible.”

It's the last thing I hear. The last thing I see is his boot coming down on my head, then my vision goes black.

∞∞∞

I wake with a jolt. My eyes frantically search for Cami until a hand clamps down on my shoulder.

“Hey kid, she's right here.”

My head swings in his direction. My gaze instantly finding Cami because that’s what it's wired to do. She's asleep next to a girl around her age on the bottom of a bunk bed across from the one I'm apparently on. The man sits next to her.

I assess the area quickly, and I'm met with dozens of eyes staring back at me. They all have the same forsaken collar on that I do.

“Ignore them.” He says.

My focus falls back on the man across from me and the hand he holds out to me in greeting. I hesitate momentarily before placing mine in his.

“I'm Blithe Hue. Welcome to hell.”