Eventually, Andrei let go, only to look into my eyes. His were already dry, the mask back in place completely hiding any hint of feelings, other than his familiar creepy smirk. "Now, Sasha, the party isn't over yet, is it?" He pointed at the waiter with his head.
I looked at our guy. He was curled up in a ball, his eyes tightly closed and his bloody hands trying in vain to cover his ears. Trying hard to convince himself this was only a bad dream, a nightmare.
I glanced at Andrei, who just nodded. Words weren't needed. They had already been said, after all. I grabbed the bloody toothy pliers, put them in my pocket, and faced the guy, my hand casually resting over his arm. "Hey." I shifted my hand to gently move his so he could hear. "Hey, man. Have you heard Andrei?" I got closer. "He said party isn't over."
The guy tried hard to cover his ear again while letting out a pathetic whimper.
I held his hand away from it. "No, man. Don't do this. It doesn't help anyone, you know."
Andrei had come to our side. He didn't say a word, just grabbed our guy by the wrist and pulled, sending him flying across the room. The poor thing crashed loudly against the glass door to the balcony, smashing the thing and making a bloody mess in the process. He started wailing in pain – smashed glass tends to be pretty sharp.
Andrei again walked up to him, grabbed him by the ankle, and dragged him across all the shattered glass, back into bed. Our guy cried louder in response, but Andrei completely ignored him 'till they both were on the bed. "Sasha, hold him, will you?"
I shifted around to grab his arms, immobilizing them. Andrei sat on his belly, making sure he couldn't really use his legs. Then he drew a knife, took it to our guy's cheek, and started fidgeting with it, without saying a word. Our guy naturally started whimpering yet again.
Andrei grinned at that while letting out a supposedly disappointed sigh. "I'm getting tired of all your screaming, my friend. Sure, the walls here are fully soundproof, but they can only do so much. So, shut the hell up already, or I'll have to make you." He paused for a moment. "You know, since you aren't actually screaming, but more like, wailing, chances are cutting off your tongue won't make it." He smiled again. "I'll have to tear your throat open and cut those pesky vocal chords. THAT will shut you up, that's for sure."
Our waiter bit his tongue, trying hard not to make more noises. Still, it's quite hard to cry in complete silence.
"Now, here's the deal," Andrei continued. "You scream again – you know what I'll be doing. Understand? … Good. Now, Sasha. I believe you had a job to do? Huh?"
Yeah. The guy's teeth. Oh, well. Andrei shifted his hand to hold the guy's mouth open, as I reached for the pliers. The guy started wiggling like mad when he saw them. I closed my thighs around his head, immobilizing it. "Now, now. I can't exactly say no, and he won't exactly change his mind, you know. So, you better cooperate, we make this quick, and before you know, it will be over. Okay?"
Andrei laughed. "Sasha, don't lie to him. This is going to be hell, and you're gonna make sure of it."
I looked into his gleaming eyes for a full second. That gave me the strength to make the decision yet again. I couldn't help smiling. "Of course, Andrei," I said before looking down and latching the pliers into one of his front teeth.
Small twist. High-pitched scream. Pull. … My poor eardrums. Andrei took the knife and stabbed it into the guy's throat, right through the vocal chords, letting it there to staunch the blood – we didn't want his lungs filling with it, after all. He looked back at me. "Keep going, Sasha."
Again. Latch. Twist. Pull. Vain attempts at screaming, that now were just a soft gurgling roar. Much easier on the eardrums, if you ask me. … And again. And yet again. 'Till there was not a single tooth left in his bloody mouth. Quite the sight, if you ask me.
Andrei checked the guy's pulse. "We don't have all that much time," he said, before springing up to open another drawer. He came back with a pulley and some rope.
That's when I looked up and saw it. There were already two hooks in the ceiling. … I didn't want to know what the hell was it with this one hotel room, honestly.
Andrei had climbed onto the headboard and was trying to attach the pulley to the hook right on top of the bed. He quickly glanced at me. "Sasha, can you find the hooks in the case?"
Oh, shit. Okay. Oh-kay. I opened his briefcase, trying hard not to think too much about its contents. But it wasn't easy considering that I had to search through them to find the damned hooks. I finally found them – two shark-sized fishing hooks. Shit.
I handed them to Andrei, who quickly tied them to the rope. "Okay. This is ready. Now, Sasha. If I remember correctly, this was your test? Huh?" He looked at me. And for a split second, I got lost in the sea again, right 'till he insisted. "Sasha?"
I got back into reality and nodded. "Where?" Where do I hook them. "We don't have that much height in here." For hooking an adult guy to the ceiling.
"His knees. I have something for you in mind."
… That's never a good thing. Right? … For once, I was wrong. Anyway, I pierced the guy's legs, just above the knee, with the hooks. Thankfully, they were deadly sharp. The guy of course tried to wiggle and scream, but Andrei was holding him tight, and the knife – and the blood – in his throat turned his scream into a low gurgle.
"Get him up, Sasha."
I pulled at the rope and lifted the guy up – held only by two giant fishing hooks pierced through his knees' skin. Andrei was trying his best to keep him steady, but it wasn't an easy task. "Hey, listen to me, you idiot. If you keep moving, the skin is gonna rip, do you hear me? THAT hurts. Now, stay still already, dammit!"
After a short while, he seemed to understand that the more wiggle, the more pain, so he finally stopped. I couldn't keep my eyes away from him. He looked like a dead pig at the slaughterhouse – a bloody mess.
Andrei hugged me from behind. "Do you trust me?"
"You know I do."
"… What are you willing to do?"
"Just ask." There was no hesitation in my voice. I had already made up my mind.
Andrei sighed. "Okay. Close your eyes and let go."
As I closed my eyes, he gently guided me to lie down on the bed, belly up. Soon I felt something warm dripping over my chest – and I realized what he'd done. I couldn't help opening my eyes to see it – to see the blood dripping all over, tainting my soul like a drop of ink can taint a full glass of water. And I couldn't help smiling as I saw his eyes and understood. No way out, indeed.
2018-08-30
The Ball (12) - His own medicine
Andrei looked into my eyes, a soft, eerie grin mixed with the usual void in his. "Now, what are you willing to do, Sasha."
I closed my eyes. I couldn't drown again in the midnight sea. "Anything."
I opened them back to find him a foot in front of me. "Really?"
"I'll take care of–" I cut myself off.
His expression made clear he wasn't talking about the guy. "Are you ready for another test, then?"
I sighed. What in hell could he have in mind this time, I had no clue. But, if I had a choice, I didn't want it. "Yeah. Ask."
His usual grin was tainted with uneasiness. "I want to see how far you can go, now that you know how it feels. Add in some serum. Make me ask you to stop. And keep going. Make me regret this."
... SHIT. "How... how can you do that, Andrei," I managed to say.
He grinned harder. "Well, I'd say you know the answer already, don't you?"
I sighed. Yeah. I was his target, after all. "Okay. One more question. And I'll do it. Why."
"Oh, you will?" His eyes gleamed hard, but for a split second, I saw beneath the mask – a hint of apprehension. He knew well what he was asking for. He was hoping I couldn't get that far, no matter how much he wanted me to pass the test. Yet the smiley mask erased all that from his face. All that was left was delight and pride. "Well, then, let me tell you why. It's like, the ultimate test, isn't it? If you can manage to do that to someone you care about – to me... you can pretty much do anything. I know what I'm getting myself into, and honestly, it seems like a small price to pay for your soul, Sasha."
I held his stare. So that's what you want. Everything. Well, it's been a long time since I agreed to your deal, you devil. "Makes sense."
"Okay, so, this is what you'll be doing. Start with serum. Twenty, thirty CCs should do it. Then pull it out. I'll ask you to stop – don't. Deal?" He leaned back onto the bed and managed to handcuff himself to the headboard.
I had a stupid smirk in my whole face. Andrei wasn't realizing his mistake of sorts – yes, I cared dearly about him, but he deserved this and then some. Yes, it would be painful to do it... but not as much as targeting, say, an innocent kid. Who really had done nothing and didn't know shit. "You're gonna regret this, Andrei. I swear," I said as I reached for the serum. The few syringes of crystal caught my eye too – but that wasn't really in the script, was it?
He smiled back. "I sure hope so, my boy. Now, make me proud."
"Oh, I will." I injected him with the first 10CC. Then realized, I had no idea of how much was enough. So I grabbed the pliers and latched them – also on a wisdom teeth. The small twist almost made him scream. And I realized what I was about to do. Sell my soul, indeed. Shit. But I had no choice. I had to. I wouldn't disappoint him. I'd make him proud. No matter what. I put on the mask. "Hey, just ten is enough for you? I had you for a lot tougher, man."
He tried to smile, but the pliers twisted it into a grotesque grin.
I gave him two more 10CC shots before testing again. This time he couldn't hide a soft wail – but once I stopped, he signed me a thumbs up. So I went for two more. Fifty in total. Hell on earth for anyone who hadn't abused it – but we'd reached much, much more in 'controlled tests' a.k.a 'let's see how far can we get before we have to stop'. But then, the whole tooth pulling thing was more painful than our usual electroshocks – if only, 'cause it didn't stop at the flip of a switch.
I tested again, and now he screamed to the top of his lungs, his wrists pulling hard against the cuffs. Oh, well. "But you wanted this, didn't you?" I teased. "In fact, you asked me to keep going long past your limits, didn't you?" I unlatched the pliers so he could reply. Big part of the fun was the whole argument thing.
"Goddammit, Sasha, I told you twenty or thirty, not fifty."
"You told me not to stop."
He sighed hard. "Okay. I've changed my mind. You win. I wasn't expecting you to get that far, alright? ... I wasn't expecting you to pass this one."
I smiled, letting the pliers rest on his chest so I could get closer – merely a couple inches from him, as he usually did. "Oh, well. I told you I was gonna make you proud, boss." I said that on purpose. He hated being called anything that was not his name. "I told you I was gonna make you regret this." I got on my feet to bring more serum.
He bit his tongue, realizing he was not in a position to protest a simple name. Realizing his mistake, but maybe not yet the full extent of it. "Sasha. Please. Enough is enough," he said when he saw the two extra syringes. "Do it if you want, but I already have had more than enough serum."
"I thought you'd said there's no such thing as going too far? ... Oh, sure, being there is not the same as being on the other side, up on your high horse, is it? One sees everything from another perspective, don't you think?"
He sighed. "Look, if you're going to get all moralizing to me..." He trailed off as the sixth syringe pierced his skin. His voice wasn't all that creepy anymore – now it was almost teary. Fearful. "Please. Please, Sasha. Stop it. You win, I've told you. You've beaten my best expectations. Now, stop it, will you?"
I didn't say anything else, just gave him the last shot. He just closed his eyes and started to take deep breaths, understanding that I wouldn't stop. He tried to look into my eyes as I grabbed the toothy pliers, but I avoided it. I wanted to get this done. I had done more than enough, indeed. So I latched the pliers, and, after the slight twist, that already sent him wailing, I pulled hard. I couldn't help smiling as he screamed his lungs out, in vain trying to ask me to stop – between the pain and the pliers, all that came out of his mouth was an unintelligible screaming mumble.
In a few moments, it was done. I tested for his pulse – just in case – and noticed his heart was racing. He kept whimpering from the pain, now in somewhat intelligible words. "Please, make it stop already..."
I unlocked his handcuffs –he wasn't going anywhere like that, anyway– and reached for the antidote.
I showed him the small syringe. The game wasn't over. "You want this?"
He tried to turn over and crawl to get it, but was in too much pain to actually move. "Please, you've done enough, please..."
I looked at my hand, at the small syringe. And couldn't help handing it to him. He stabbed himself like a madman, trying to get the soothing chemicals in as soon as possible. He tried to breathe deep, to make the long seconds that it took to act somewhat shorter. Then he bolted up and looked at me, realizing something was wrong, realizing it wasn't only taking too long to act, but the pain was getting worse – spreading all over.
And for the first time, as he realized what I'd done, I saw true fear in his eyes. He could barely mumble a muted "Sasha, please..." over and over.
Crystal. In his pain, he hadn't checked what I'd given him, too eager to make it stop. I had changed my mind at the last moment, actually – I still had the antidote in my pocket.
I knew well what he was going through. Hell. Yes. I'd been through worse. Seventy units weren't that much for us, actually. Add crystal... okay, yes, it was that much. But still, I had been through worse – at his hands. He deserved every minute, every single second of this. And I would make sure he would have it. After all, he used to say he deserved everything I could throw at him and then some – and he was utterly right.
I took in his fear. It's not every day you see someone like him actually fear something. And he'd asked for this. I drew the antidote syringe and sat beside him. "It's funny, hm? Knowing that you deserve this. That you asked for it. And yet here you are, wondering when will I finally stop."
He managed to talk somewhat clearer now. "Sasha... please... just tell me what you want... but stop it... stop it already..."
I couldn't help grinning. "I just want to make you proud of me, Andrei. Tell me. Am I doing a good job? Hm?"
He knew too well begging wouldn't actually get him anywhere, but he was desperate enough to keep trying.
I ignored it. "Now, tell me. Do you really think we can't know? Hm? ... Sure, it's not the same. They fear for their lives. We fear for what we know can and will happen. But deep inside, it's all the same. Or, tell me, and please be honest. Wouldn't you do anything to make it stop?"
"Yes, yes, Sasha, anything you want, I swear, just make it stop..."
I smiled again. "Are you hearing yourself? ... Anything I want? You're taking quite a risk with that, Andrei. Good thing I just want to see you like this." ... That was a lie. To a point. I think. Whatever. "And here I thought I'd never see it. I'd never see you actually fear for anything. Silly me. All it took was you asking for it."
"Goddammit, Sasha... please... You've already done enough..."
"You did worse. Did you realize that? No, you didn't. You see, there was a point in Key's training exercises. It wasn't only about pain resilience, or about keeping your feet on the ground. It was also about getting to know it so you could use it later. Okay, you don't need that last part, right. But the whole keeping your feet on the ground? ... Welcome to reality, boss. Welcome to your own hell."
His curses started getting worse. Realizing I wouldn't stop so easily, he drew strength from the pain and started swearing more and more.
I finally sighed, after yet another good while of teasing. "Okay, okay. I get it. No need to embarrass a sailor. You've had enough." I gave him the last shot – antidote.
It took about a minute to act, but he relaxed long before that. Not having to try not to scream his lungs out did make a difference. Then he looked at me. Broken. And he hugged me, hard, almost taking my breath away. I noticed something wet in my cheek – his tears. This had been harder on him than I had expected. He wasn't used to trying his own medicine, after all.
"Hey. It's over." I said. "Look, I..." ... I'm sorry, I was going to say. I shouldn't have.
But he cut me off. "Cut that crap, Sasha. You did what you had to. You beat my wildest expectations. I want you to know that I couldn't be any prouder of you. So don't you dare to say you're sorry now. ... We both know you'd be lying."
I hugged him harder. It was painful to admit, but he was utterly right.
The Ball (11) - The Tooth
I couldn't hide it this time. Andrei saw my doubts from a mile away. He let go of the guy and came to face me – in his own way. He circled around and rested his hand on my shoulder from behind. "I thought you said you'd do anything? Huh?"
"I... I will. It's just... sometimes it's still hard, okay? I mean, having seen it without the serum, and add three CCs, and... it's not easy, okay?"
I could clearly feel his grin as his hand crept ever so closer to my throat. "You ever tried that one?"
I shook my head.
"Would you want to?"
It took me a second to make the decision. "Do it."
"Sasha, that's not what I asked."
I sighed. Words. Every single time.
Thank the devil he seemed to read my frustration and stopped his word games. "Okay, okay. No need for more. Lie on the bed, and get ready. This is some intense shit."
I took a deep breath. Either he was being completely honest, or this would be hell. Either way, I didn't care. I was painfully sure I'd been through much worse. You see, I was sure if there was no serum involved, it couldn't be that bad. I walked slowly to the bed and laid there, waiting. He took the toothy pliers and softly, almost with a gesture, told me to open my mouth. So I did.
Then he latched the thing on a wisdom tooth. Good, because that meant I wouldn't need to get surgery to repair it, but the flip side was it would hurt a hell of a lot more. Oh, well.
The slight twist almost had me in tears already. Then I felt his hand holding my forehead firmly in place. I barely registered his soft voice. "Here we go."
OUCH. No. That's an understatement. A big one, at that. He started pulling, and I thought he was gonna rip my whole head off. I managed to open my eyes and find his, and realized I was drowning in the sea, painted red by my own blood. The metallic taste became nauseatingly obvious. I tried hard not to scream, but I don't think I succeeded. Andrei was too damn good at his job, after all.
And then it was over. Except it still hurt like hell and then some. I looked at him yet again.
"Well, I must say, not everybody can do that, boy. You barely made any noise, compared to our whiny baby here." He pointed at the waiter, who was sitting against the headboard of the bed, eyes tightly closed, hands trying too hard to cover his ears, leaving blood everywhere in the process. The sight calmed me somewhat. He had it oh-so-much-worse. I was on the right side of the fight – even if that didn't mean the good guy's side. Oh, well.
"It still hurts," I managed to babble, my own blood dripping everywhere. So much for wearing a nice suit. Whatever.
Andrei reached for the drawer full of syringes and handed me something. The antidote to the serum. Actually, a quite strong opioid painkiller. It was about the only thing that could counter the serum, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work for a simple toothache. I took it and fidgeted with it a bit, trying to decide if I could do without it. Andrei interrupted my train of thoughts. "Hey, you already got through the worst part. No need to be in pain for the rest of the night, Sasha. Take it."
I shook my head. "For now I'm good, but thanks. I'll take it if it gets worse." Or so I tried to say. It came out as a bloody babble – literally.
"Sasha, I didn't get a word of what you just said. I know you have a thing for pain, but for hell's sake, take it. Don't try to be such a bullhead." Yet he knew better than to rely on words alone. He took the syringe from my hand and stabbed the needle into my neck.
I soon felt the soothing chemical running through my veins – and in a few minutes, the worst of the pain was gone, leaving only a soft ache behind. "Okay, you were right, this is better."
"Definitely. I can even understand you now." He laughed.
"I... I will. It's just... sometimes it's still hard, okay? I mean, having seen it without the serum, and add three CCs, and... it's not easy, okay?"
I could clearly feel his grin as his hand crept ever so closer to my throat. "You ever tried that one?"
I shook my head.
"Would you want to?"
It took me a second to make the decision. "Do it."
"Sasha, that's not what I asked."
I sighed. Words. Every single time.
Thank the devil he seemed to read my frustration and stopped his word games. "Okay, okay. No need for more. Lie on the bed, and get ready. This is some intense shit."
I took a deep breath. Either he was being completely honest, or this would be hell. Either way, I didn't care. I was painfully sure I'd been through much worse. You see, I was sure if there was no serum involved, it couldn't be that bad. I walked slowly to the bed and laid there, waiting. He took the toothy pliers and softly, almost with a gesture, told me to open my mouth. So I did.
Then he latched the thing on a wisdom tooth. Good, because that meant I wouldn't need to get surgery to repair it, but the flip side was it would hurt a hell of a lot more. Oh, well.
The slight twist almost had me in tears already. Then I felt his hand holding my forehead firmly in place. I barely registered his soft voice. "Here we go."
OUCH. No. That's an understatement. A big one, at that. He started pulling, and I thought he was gonna rip my whole head off. I managed to open my eyes and find his, and realized I was drowning in the sea, painted red by my own blood. The metallic taste became nauseatingly obvious. I tried hard not to scream, but I don't think I succeeded. Andrei was too damn good at his job, after all.
And then it was over. Except it still hurt like hell and then some. I looked at him yet again.
"Well, I must say, not everybody can do that, boy. You barely made any noise, compared to our whiny baby here." He pointed at the waiter, who was sitting against the headboard of the bed, eyes tightly closed, hands trying too hard to cover his ears, leaving blood everywhere in the process. The sight calmed me somewhat. He had it oh-so-much-worse. I was on the right side of the fight – even if that didn't mean the good guy's side. Oh, well.
"It still hurts," I managed to babble, my own blood dripping everywhere. So much for wearing a nice suit. Whatever.
Andrei reached for the drawer full of syringes and handed me something. The antidote to the serum. Actually, a quite strong opioid painkiller. It was about the only thing that could counter the serum, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work for a simple toothache. I took it and fidgeted with it a bit, trying to decide if I could do without it. Andrei interrupted my train of thoughts. "Hey, you already got through the worst part. No need to be in pain for the rest of the night, Sasha. Take it."
I shook my head. "For now I'm good, but thanks. I'll take it if it gets worse." Or so I tried to say. It came out as a bloody babble – literally.
"Sasha, I didn't get a word of what you just said. I know you have a thing for pain, but for hell's sake, take it. Don't try to be such a bullhead." Yet he knew better than to rely on words alone. He took the syringe from my hand and stabbed the needle into my neck.
I soon felt the soothing chemical running through my veins – and in a few minutes, the worst of the pain was gone, leaving only a soft ache behind. "Okay, you were right, this is better."
"Definitely. I can even understand you now." He laughed.
The Ball (10) - Standard Protocol
Our waiter was completely horrified. His little mind, used to the peacefulness of dealing with rich idiots, couldn't start to grasp the nature of our sickness. He was pathetically cute, sobbing and trying to understand what was happening. How could something like this happen – not even to him, just happen. "Please..."
Andrei let the gun fall noisily and drew a knife, that steadily found its way to our man's throat. His voice was velvet soft. "So. We took a bit of a risk with you. Usually, I know your lives almost by heart. But I know nothing about you. Tell me. Do you have someone who will miss you?"
The broken man shattered yet again. Realizing it's not only about your very life, but that the lives of those you leave behind will change forever... that's heart-breaking. He started mumbling nonsense yet again.
"Hey, my friend. I can't understand a single word you're saying. ... I asked you a simple yes or no question. Anyone who cares for you?"
He couldn't talk, but managed to nod.
Andrei didn't bother to try to hide his smirk. "That's too bad, huh? Not because they'll miss you. And, today I'm feeling nice, so neither because I'll go after them. No, it's bad 'cause we have to make sure they never find you. Last time I didn't make sure of that, man, was it a huge headache for everyone."
Our man froze. Disappearing was far worse for everyone involved, the doubt of nobody ever knowing if you've just run away, or got kidnapped, or... who knows.
"Now comes the fun part of the story. Huh? We have a sort of a standard protocol for this kind of stuff. It's quite easy. Cut off everything that can be easily recognizable. Fingertips. Teeth. Bash the head in so they won't identify you. Thankfully for everyone involved DNA testing is too expensive to do on a consistent enough basis."
It looked like our man had given up hope, and was just waiting for the knife to cut into his throat. ... Poor guy. If only.
Andrei kept smiling like a maniac. "Ho, boy. But I skipped the best part. You get to live through all that, huh?" He shifted his arms, dropping the knife right at my feet and fully immobilizing our guy. "Sasha, if you'd be so kind as to slice off his fingerprints, huh?"
I had been expecting this, of course I had. But that didn't make it any better. Stupid me, to think this would be just a 'let's mess around' night. To think that it could end in anything else than a literal bloody mess. Oh, well. I had made a promise to him, and to myself. And I wasn't about to break it.
I took the knife from the floor and grabbed the guy's hand, blade ready to cut into his fingertips. Andrei stopped me for a second. "We have the whole night ahead of us. Make sure it hurts, Sasha."
Shit. Oh-kay. You won't get me to fail you. Not this far down the road to hell. I let the knife dig into his flesh, slowly tearing a good chunk off. The whole fingerprint. His blood ran through my hands, painting them red. And I felt it. The call, the need for more. I couldn't help smiling widely as I slowly cut the other nine fingertips. I didn't even hear his screams anymore. Just saw his blood paint everything in red, and Andrei's eyes, a glistening void. This was my life now. And I had chosen it.
Eventually, it was done. No more fingerprints to ID him by. Andrei broke the newfound silence. "Did that hurt? Huh? Well, then get ready for some actual pain. Sasha. Second drawer. Toothy pliers." Toothy meaning the ones to pull teeth out. They latched onto it, and all you had to do was give it a slight twist and pull – pull really hard, of course.
I couldn't help grinning when I opened the drawer and saw them – perfectly clean. I got them and turned back to meet Andrei's stare. He too was beaming. He shifted again to hold the guy's mouth wide open. "Sasha?"
I smiled at him. "Of course."
"All of them."
... Shit.
Andrei let the gun fall noisily and drew a knife, that steadily found its way to our man's throat. His voice was velvet soft. "So. We took a bit of a risk with you. Usually, I know your lives almost by heart. But I know nothing about you. Tell me. Do you have someone who will miss you?"
The broken man shattered yet again. Realizing it's not only about your very life, but that the lives of those you leave behind will change forever... that's heart-breaking. He started mumbling nonsense yet again.
"Hey, my friend. I can't understand a single word you're saying. ... I asked you a simple yes or no question. Anyone who cares for you?"
He couldn't talk, but managed to nod.
Andrei didn't bother to try to hide his smirk. "That's too bad, huh? Not because they'll miss you. And, today I'm feeling nice, so neither because I'll go after them. No, it's bad 'cause we have to make sure they never find you. Last time I didn't make sure of that, man, was it a huge headache for everyone."
Our man froze. Disappearing was far worse for everyone involved, the doubt of nobody ever knowing if you've just run away, or got kidnapped, or... who knows.
"Now comes the fun part of the story. Huh? We have a sort of a standard protocol for this kind of stuff. It's quite easy. Cut off everything that can be easily recognizable. Fingertips. Teeth. Bash the head in so they won't identify you. Thankfully for everyone involved DNA testing is too expensive to do on a consistent enough basis."
It looked like our man had given up hope, and was just waiting for the knife to cut into his throat. ... Poor guy. If only.
Andrei kept smiling like a maniac. "Ho, boy. But I skipped the best part. You get to live through all that, huh?" He shifted his arms, dropping the knife right at my feet and fully immobilizing our guy. "Sasha, if you'd be so kind as to slice off his fingerprints, huh?"
I had been expecting this, of course I had. But that didn't make it any better. Stupid me, to think this would be just a 'let's mess around' night. To think that it could end in anything else than a literal bloody mess. Oh, well. I had made a promise to him, and to myself. And I wasn't about to break it.
I took the knife from the floor and grabbed the guy's hand, blade ready to cut into his fingertips. Andrei stopped me for a second. "We have the whole night ahead of us. Make sure it hurts, Sasha."
Shit. Oh-kay. You won't get me to fail you. Not this far down the road to hell. I let the knife dig into his flesh, slowly tearing a good chunk off. The whole fingerprint. His blood ran through my hands, painting them red. And I felt it. The call, the need for more. I couldn't help smiling widely as I slowly cut the other nine fingertips. I didn't even hear his screams anymore. Just saw his blood paint everything in red, and Andrei's eyes, a glistening void. This was my life now. And I had chosen it.
Eventually, it was done. No more fingerprints to ID him by. Andrei broke the newfound silence. "Did that hurt? Huh? Well, then get ready for some actual pain. Sasha. Second drawer. Toothy pliers." Toothy meaning the ones to pull teeth out. They latched onto it, and all you had to do was give it a slight twist and pull – pull really hard, of course.
I couldn't help grinning when I opened the drawer and saw them – perfectly clean. I got them and turned back to meet Andrei's stare. He too was beaming. He shifted again to hold the guy's mouth wide open. "Sasha?"
I smiled at him. "Of course."
"All of them."
... Shit.
The Ball (9) - Do you want to die?
After a good while, Andrei stopped me, just a gesture of his hand. I dropped the belt and tried to catch my breath. I never knew giving a whipping could be so exhausting.
But the night was still far from over, as our guy was going to find soon enough. Andrei handed me a knife. "Cut him free."
So I did. At first, I tried actually removing the tape, but Andrei stopped me. "Not now, Sasha. He'll lose too much blood. Maybe later." So all I did was cut the tape that wasn't glued to his skin – leaving the rest there.
Once done, Andrei circled him, sitting behind him, his face almost touching the waiter's, hugging him hard – immobilizing our guy in a sitting position, right on the edge of the bed. "Do you think this is over? Huh?" He smiled, waiting for an answer that he knew well couldn't come. "No, my friend. This has just started. Now, tell me. Do you want it to be over yet?"
The guy again nodded as is his life depended on it.
Then Andrei ripped the guy's tape gag and asked again. "I didn't hear you, my friend. Do you want to die?"
The waiter's eyes shut tightly. Finally understanding. It had all been a lie, there was only one way out, and it was Death itself. Tears started to run down his cheeks again. "P-please... I won't tell anyone..."
"Are you deaf now? Huh? I asked a simple yes or no question. I'm still waiting for an answer. Do you want to die?"
The guy couldn't answer, but he tried hard to shake his head. Idiot. Well, to be honest, it's not as if his answer could change anything.
Andrei kept pushing. His goal was clearly to get a yes. "Oh, well. Alright, then." His eyes locked on mine. "Sasha. Break his legs."
Oh-kay. I stepped forward and stomped on his knees, one by one, holding the legs extended with my left foot. The knee joints popped out of their place, bending in an unnatural angle. I managed to cover my ears as he was starting to scream – 'cause if you add the serum to the overwhelming pain of a knee bending backward, let me tell you – it's not something you can stand up to, even with a lot of training.
Once he calmed down a bit, he started mumbling actual words. "Oh, god, please, okay, okay, just kill me already... Please..."
Andrei drew a gun out of the waist of his pants and placed the barrel against the waiter's temple, softly grazing it. "You sure about this?"
I held my breath. I knew him better than to fall for it, but this wasn't his trusty revolver, always loaded to play Russian roulette – that old trick where he always knew where the single bullet was. This was the pistol – loaded to actually shot when needed. No safety net here.
The waiter had his eyes closed, and was sincerely pondering whether death was better than life – his whole body trembling of fear, terrified of death, scared to death of what life – us – could bring. He finally nodded.
Andrei whispered eerily into his ear. "Then say it. Beg me to kill you."
The guy started whimpering again. Deciding when in agony was one thing, nodding was another, but this... this was too damn much for the poor thing. "P-please... Please, man... don't do this... Please..."
It was painfully obvious that he couldn't say it even if his life depended on it. So Andrei pulled the trigger. ... But not before aiming the gun forward, so all the guy would get was a loud bang on his ear, probably a burst eardrum – but not a bullet through his head. Oh, well. I told you I knew he wouldn't.
Our guy let out a scream, then he realized this dead thing wasn't so bad – or rather, he wasn't dead at all. He looked at me, puzzled. He'd... heard the gunshot, right?
I smiled at him. "My friend, you don't get to die yet. And definitely, not like that. Bang and it's over?" I shook my head. "Do you really think Andrei is such a nice guy to do that?"
But the night was still far from over, as our guy was going to find soon enough. Andrei handed me a knife. "Cut him free."
So I did. At first, I tried actually removing the tape, but Andrei stopped me. "Not now, Sasha. He'll lose too much blood. Maybe later." So all I did was cut the tape that wasn't glued to his skin – leaving the rest there.
Once done, Andrei circled him, sitting behind him, his face almost touching the waiter's, hugging him hard – immobilizing our guy in a sitting position, right on the edge of the bed. "Do you think this is over? Huh?" He smiled, waiting for an answer that he knew well couldn't come. "No, my friend. This has just started. Now, tell me. Do you want it to be over yet?"
The guy again nodded as is his life depended on it.
Then Andrei ripped the guy's tape gag and asked again. "I didn't hear you, my friend. Do you want to die?"
The waiter's eyes shut tightly. Finally understanding. It had all been a lie, there was only one way out, and it was Death itself. Tears started to run down his cheeks again. "P-please... I won't tell anyone..."
"Are you deaf now? Huh? I asked a simple yes or no question. I'm still waiting for an answer. Do you want to die?"
The guy couldn't answer, but he tried hard to shake his head. Idiot. Well, to be honest, it's not as if his answer could change anything.
Andrei kept pushing. His goal was clearly to get a yes. "Oh, well. Alright, then." His eyes locked on mine. "Sasha. Break his legs."
Oh-kay. I stepped forward and stomped on his knees, one by one, holding the legs extended with my left foot. The knee joints popped out of their place, bending in an unnatural angle. I managed to cover my ears as he was starting to scream – 'cause if you add the serum to the overwhelming pain of a knee bending backward, let me tell you – it's not something you can stand up to, even with a lot of training.
Once he calmed down a bit, he started mumbling actual words. "Oh, god, please, okay, okay, just kill me already... Please..."
Andrei drew a gun out of the waist of his pants and placed the barrel against the waiter's temple, softly grazing it. "You sure about this?"
I held my breath. I knew him better than to fall for it, but this wasn't his trusty revolver, always loaded to play Russian roulette – that old trick where he always knew where the single bullet was. This was the pistol – loaded to actually shot when needed. No safety net here.
The waiter had his eyes closed, and was sincerely pondering whether death was better than life – his whole body trembling of fear, terrified of death, scared to death of what life – us – could bring. He finally nodded.
Andrei whispered eerily into his ear. "Then say it. Beg me to kill you."
The guy started whimpering again. Deciding when in agony was one thing, nodding was another, but this... this was too damn much for the poor thing. "P-please... Please, man... don't do this... Please..."
It was painfully obvious that he couldn't say it even if his life depended on it. So Andrei pulled the trigger. ... But not before aiming the gun forward, so all the guy would get was a loud bang on his ear, probably a burst eardrum – but not a bullet through his head. Oh, well. I told you I knew he wouldn't.
Our guy let out a scream, then he realized this dead thing wasn't so bad – or rather, he wasn't dead at all. He looked at me, puzzled. He'd... heard the gunshot, right?
I smiled at him. "My friend, you don't get to die yet. And definitely, not like that. Bang and it's over?" I shook my head. "Do you really think Andrei is such a nice guy to do that?"
The Ball (8) - Pain in a bottle
Andrei leaned back and reached for the bedside table's drawer. That's when I realized this wasn't a random room. He had this planned all along, one way or another. He handed me a small syringe, full of a white liquid. Serum. "Okay, then, let's do this. Show our friend, will you?"
I nodded as I reached for it. Yeah, the night had just begun for our poor guy. Oh, well. I held the needle right in front of his eyes. "Hey. Do you know what's this?"
He shook his head as best as he could.
"Long story short, it's pain in a bottle. More specifically, it makes your nerves far more sensitive. So, anything else will hurt like hell." I stabbed the needle in his neck and proceeded to push on the plunger.
He winced hard at the prick, but then relaxed, seeing that the pain didn't come. That is, until Andrei hit him with the belt – fully extended, the buckle acting as an extra weight for added impact. The guy's scream, even under the gag, threatened to blow my eardrums.
I looked at Andrei, wordlessly asking for instructions. He pointed at the guy with his head, and I understood perfectly. Keep playing with his mind. So I turned his head again to meet his eyes. They had turned into puddles. I got even closer, my own eyes inches apart from his, while I softly caressed his hair. "Do you think that hurt?"
I glanced at Andrei for a split second, and the second hit came. The same scream. But seeing it up close was different. His eyes closed for a full second, and when they opened, they were full of fear – not anymore for his life, but for what was left of it, for what we could do. I couldn't help smiling. "Let me ask again. Do you really think that's the worst we can do? Hm?"
I got up and went to get more serum. That had been one CC, but we could go oh-so-much-further. Five, ten CC weren't unheard of. Though most people without... proper training were barely able to stand just one. That was the point of it. Get past all their physical limits, so their mind would follow – into madness. Into hell.
I almost cursed out loud when I opened the drawer. It was full – not only of serum, but I also saw crystal. The fancy new drug, engineered to cause physical pleasure – thing also acted on the nerves. Together with the serum, the pain was... something else. ... And we had a drawer full of both. In a hotel. ... Yes, Andrei could have definitely been the devil himself.
I took a silent deep breath before grabbing a couple more serum syringes and going back to our guy, again my eyes mere inches apart from his, my mask back on – was it still a mask? "You've had one CC. Now, what happens if I give you another one, huh?" Again I gave him a shot.
Andrei waited a few seconds for it to act, then hit him again with the belt. This time our waiter didn't manage to scream, but his agony was painfully obvious in his face. Good.
"Fancy a third one? Hm?"
He shook his head like his life depended on it.
Andrei ignored him. "Do it, Sasha."
So I gave our guy a third shot. But the whipping didn't come. I looked at Andrei and understood. It was my turn. So I took the belt and hit him – hard. Again and again, without even stopping for him to take a breath. I lost count of the times I hit him. It didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.
I nodded as I reached for it. Yeah, the night had just begun for our poor guy. Oh, well. I held the needle right in front of his eyes. "Hey. Do you know what's this?"
He shook his head as best as he could.
"Long story short, it's pain in a bottle. More specifically, it makes your nerves far more sensitive. So, anything else will hurt like hell." I stabbed the needle in his neck and proceeded to push on the plunger.
He winced hard at the prick, but then relaxed, seeing that the pain didn't come. That is, until Andrei hit him with the belt – fully extended, the buckle acting as an extra weight for added impact. The guy's scream, even under the gag, threatened to blow my eardrums.
I looked at Andrei, wordlessly asking for instructions. He pointed at the guy with his head, and I understood perfectly. Keep playing with his mind. So I turned his head again to meet his eyes. They had turned into puddles. I got even closer, my own eyes inches apart from his, while I softly caressed his hair. "Do you think that hurt?"
I glanced at Andrei for a split second, and the second hit came. The same scream. But seeing it up close was different. His eyes closed for a full second, and when they opened, they were full of fear – not anymore for his life, but for what was left of it, for what we could do. I couldn't help smiling. "Let me ask again. Do you really think that's the worst we can do? Hm?"
I got up and went to get more serum. That had been one CC, but we could go oh-so-much-further. Five, ten CC weren't unheard of. Though most people without... proper training were barely able to stand just one. That was the point of it. Get past all their physical limits, so their mind would follow – into madness. Into hell.
I almost cursed out loud when I opened the drawer. It was full – not only of serum, but I also saw crystal. The fancy new drug, engineered to cause physical pleasure – thing also acted on the nerves. Together with the serum, the pain was... something else. ... And we had a drawer full of both. In a hotel. ... Yes, Andrei could have definitely been the devil himself.
I took a silent deep breath before grabbing a couple more serum syringes and going back to our guy, again my eyes mere inches apart from his, my mask back on – was it still a mask? "You've had one CC. Now, what happens if I give you another one, huh?" Again I gave him a shot.
Andrei waited a few seconds for it to act, then hit him again with the belt. This time our waiter didn't manage to scream, but his agony was painfully obvious in his face. Good.
"Fancy a third one? Hm?"
He shook his head like his life depended on it.
Andrei ignored him. "Do it, Sasha."
So I gave our guy a third shot. But the whipping didn't come. I looked at Andrei and understood. It was my turn. So I took the belt and hit him – hard. Again and again, without even stopping for him to take a breath. I lost count of the times I hit him. It didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.
The Ball (7) - Whore
We got back inside. Our man was still by the door, almost like a trembling mannequin. A battered up one, at that. The whole image was truly pathetic. He was softly whimpering and mumbling to himself, and... well, I've already told you what he looked like. A broken, puked on mess. I really needed to do something about that stench.
I grabbed his arm and led him to the shower. He followed, lost in his own mind. I shoved him in and turned the water on. The poor thing started whimpering harder at the touch of the cool water. I didn't have the patience to wait for it to warm up, honestly.
After a couple minutes I realized the stench wouldn't get out of his shirt – not without a proper wash, anyway – so I simply ripped it all out, which made him cry harder.
I noticed Andrei was leaning against the bathroom's door frame, but I ignored him. The damned stench was still there, and it was starting to make me nauseous. I tried to find some soap to see if it would work, but Andrei stopped me, handing me a knife. "You'll want to take off his pants, too. It honestly smells like our friend also shat himself." His grin was there, wider than usual. "But, don't cut the belt, Sasha. We don't have any more." Our black tie suits meant no belt, indeed.
I sighed before cutting off his pants. Yep, the stench was now much worse, which meant Andrei had been right. I covered my nose, partly mocking the guy, partly trying not to puke. "Take that shit off and wash yourself, man. I'm not cleaning up your shit, you know." I forcefully turned him around and took the knife to his throat. "Are you even listening? Clean up. Or else."
He started whimpering loudly but did as told. Andrei signed me to follow him and leave the guy to his cleaning – which honestly was a great idea. The fresh air of the room was definitely something else.
Andrei sat casually on the bed, staring at me, wildly grinning. "So, what are you willing to do, Sasha?"
I couldn't help smiling. "Anything, Andrei. Anything you want."
He was delighted by my answer. "Show me. Make me proud. Tear him to shreds and then some."
I nodded.
Our guy finally got out of the bathroom, covered in a towel after realizing he couldn't really wear his waiter clothes anymore.
I laughed at the sight. Poor thing. Oh, well. As Andrei says, life's not fair. "Hey, man. Come here." I patted on the bed. "And drop that towel, we want to see what you have to offer."
"P-please..."
I went up to him and torn the towel from his hands. There was nothing to actually laugh at, but I laughed all the same – I had to put up an act, the truth didn't matter anymore. "Oh, boy! Look at you! Is your family from Asia, or something? Well, don't worry, it's a good thing we're not girls for you to try to pleasure – else you'd be pretty much doomed!"
Andrei was openly laughing at the dumb teasing. "Maybe he's the girl, huh? I'm no expert, but I can't really see a big difference." Okay, I laughed out loud at that one. He got up and close to us – to our waiter. "What do you say, huh? Are you our little whore?"
Oh, shit. I totally saw where this was going. Andrei grabbed the guy and brutally threw him onto the bed. The poor thing crashed hard, and was now trying to make sense of what had just happened, trying to get up, when Andrei drew a roll of duct tape out of a drawer – Seriously, what the hell was it doing in a hotel room? – and threw it at me. "Tie him up, Sasha. I'll hold him."
So I did. Legs together, bent over his belly and firmly secured there, arms crossed on his back, and an improvised gag – his constant whimpering was starting to get annoying. Removing all that tape was going to be hell – for him, anyway. It seemed like the kind that manages to get stuck and rips out chunks of skin at a time.
Andrei dragged him to the edge of the bed and then sat beside him, turning the guy's head so he'd see him. "Do you know what happens now, my little whore?"
The guy started crying harder, but the tape gag muted most of the noise.
Andrei let out a creepy smirk, as he softly caressed the man's head. "I'm gonna fuck you up." Without any more messing around, he got up and unzipped his pants – but he wasn't all that hard yet. ... You see, for him, his dick was merely just another weapon. ... A quite big one, if you ask me. Anyway, he had to give it a soft massage before he could actually get started and... fuck the guy up.
And I truly mean up. You see, with me, he tended to be somewhat gentle – we were only playing games, a controlled environment in his own words. This was different. This was real life. And he could be a real beast if he wanted.
Even with the gag, the guy's high-pitched screams echoed in my eardrums, at moments threatening to blow them up. I couldn't help staring. It was a nightmarish sight – but it was also eerily beautiful. The beast that got its prey. Nature at its finest. Except this wasn't a TV documentary on wildlife, this was my boss fucking a poor waiter. ... I didn't see such a big difference, if you ask me.
Before I knew it, it was over. Performance wasn't on the script – as with all weapons, it was the end result that mattered. And you didn't exactly need hours for that. A few minutes were more than enough to tear anyone's soul apart. ... And their asshole too. As Andrei took a deep breath to relax, I realized he had blood all over his thing. Shit. No wonder the guy had been screaming like a girl.
Now our waiter was silent. Fully realizing what he'd gotten into – or so he thought. I knew better. This had just started. We had a long night before us, and our guy had a lifetime of hell – or, well, what was left of it. Hopefully. Though, knowing Andrei, he might as well let him go, and remember. Shit. No wonder so many people sworn he was the devil himself.
Andrei sat and looked at me, beaming. "Hey, Sasha. It's alright, I won't ask you to do that, I know you too have had quite the night." He paused for a moment, so as to stress his funny joke. "But the night is far from over, isn't it?"
I smiled back. "It has just begun."
I grabbed his arm and led him to the shower. He followed, lost in his own mind. I shoved him in and turned the water on. The poor thing started whimpering harder at the touch of the cool water. I didn't have the patience to wait for it to warm up, honestly.
After a couple minutes I realized the stench wouldn't get out of his shirt – not without a proper wash, anyway – so I simply ripped it all out, which made him cry harder.
I noticed Andrei was leaning against the bathroom's door frame, but I ignored him. The damned stench was still there, and it was starting to make me nauseous. I tried to find some soap to see if it would work, but Andrei stopped me, handing me a knife. "You'll want to take off his pants, too. It honestly smells like our friend also shat himself." His grin was there, wider than usual. "But, don't cut the belt, Sasha. We don't have any more." Our black tie suits meant no belt, indeed.
I sighed before cutting off his pants. Yep, the stench was now much worse, which meant Andrei had been right. I covered my nose, partly mocking the guy, partly trying not to puke. "Take that shit off and wash yourself, man. I'm not cleaning up your shit, you know." I forcefully turned him around and took the knife to his throat. "Are you even listening? Clean up. Or else."
He started whimpering loudly but did as told. Andrei signed me to follow him and leave the guy to his cleaning – which honestly was a great idea. The fresh air of the room was definitely something else.
Andrei sat casually on the bed, staring at me, wildly grinning. "So, what are you willing to do, Sasha?"
I couldn't help smiling. "Anything, Andrei. Anything you want."
He was delighted by my answer. "Show me. Make me proud. Tear him to shreds and then some."
I nodded.
Our guy finally got out of the bathroom, covered in a towel after realizing he couldn't really wear his waiter clothes anymore.
I laughed at the sight. Poor thing. Oh, well. As Andrei says, life's not fair. "Hey, man. Come here." I patted on the bed. "And drop that towel, we want to see what you have to offer."
"P-please..."
I went up to him and torn the towel from his hands. There was nothing to actually laugh at, but I laughed all the same – I had to put up an act, the truth didn't matter anymore. "Oh, boy! Look at you! Is your family from Asia, or something? Well, don't worry, it's a good thing we're not girls for you to try to pleasure – else you'd be pretty much doomed!"
Andrei was openly laughing at the dumb teasing. "Maybe he's the girl, huh? I'm no expert, but I can't really see a big difference." Okay, I laughed out loud at that one. He got up and close to us – to our waiter. "What do you say, huh? Are you our little whore?"
Oh, shit. I totally saw where this was going. Andrei grabbed the guy and brutally threw him onto the bed. The poor thing crashed hard, and was now trying to make sense of what had just happened, trying to get up, when Andrei drew a roll of duct tape out of a drawer – Seriously, what the hell was it doing in a hotel room? – and threw it at me. "Tie him up, Sasha. I'll hold him."
So I did. Legs together, bent over his belly and firmly secured there, arms crossed on his back, and an improvised gag – his constant whimpering was starting to get annoying. Removing all that tape was going to be hell – for him, anyway. It seemed like the kind that manages to get stuck and rips out chunks of skin at a time.
Andrei dragged him to the edge of the bed and then sat beside him, turning the guy's head so he'd see him. "Do you know what happens now, my little whore?"
The guy started crying harder, but the tape gag muted most of the noise.
Andrei let out a creepy smirk, as he softly caressed the man's head. "I'm gonna fuck you up." Without any more messing around, he got up and unzipped his pants – but he wasn't all that hard yet. ... You see, for him, his dick was merely just another weapon. ... A quite big one, if you ask me. Anyway, he had to give it a soft massage before he could actually get started and... fuck the guy up.
And I truly mean up. You see, with me, he tended to be somewhat gentle – we were only playing games, a controlled environment in his own words. This was different. This was real life. And he could be a real beast if he wanted.
Even with the gag, the guy's high-pitched screams echoed in my eardrums, at moments threatening to blow them up. I couldn't help staring. It was a nightmarish sight – but it was also eerily beautiful. The beast that got its prey. Nature at its finest. Except this wasn't a TV documentary on wildlife, this was my boss fucking a poor waiter. ... I didn't see such a big difference, if you ask me.
Before I knew it, it was over. Performance wasn't on the script – as with all weapons, it was the end result that mattered. And you didn't exactly need hours for that. A few minutes were more than enough to tear anyone's soul apart. ... And their asshole too. As Andrei took a deep breath to relax, I realized he had blood all over his thing. Shit. No wonder the guy had been screaming like a girl.
Now our waiter was silent. Fully realizing what he'd gotten into – or so he thought. I knew better. This had just started. We had a long night before us, and our guy had a lifetime of hell – or, well, what was left of it. Hopefully. Though, knowing Andrei, he might as well let him go, and remember. Shit. No wonder so many people sworn he was the devil himself.
Andrei sat and looked at me, beaming. "Hey, Sasha. It's alright, I won't ask you to do that, I know you too have had quite the night." He paused for a moment, so as to stress his funny joke. "But the night is far from over, isn't it?"
I smiled back. "It has just begun."
The Ball (6) - Hotel Room
Andrei sighed loudly. "Why do you care so much about everyone? If he's greedy enough to accept it –"
I cut him off. "Well, it's not like you actually gave him a choice, you know."
He had that smirk of his in his eyes. "I thought it was you the one who said there's always a choice?"
Yeah. The choice of 'I'll die before I do this'. And thinking of it, that's what got Key killed. I sighed hard at the thought. No. That had been my decision. That part of the past was over, dead and buried – this time for sure. Andrei realized what he'd said.
"Oh, shit. I didn't mean–"
Again I stopped him. "It's not that. It's... I'm gonna need a better reason for this, Andrei."
He sighed again. "Why do you keep wanting to get hurt, Sasha."
"It's not even that. Andrei, do you have any idea on what you're doing? To them?"
He looked into my eyes, and again I saw the glistening void, the devil himself. "And how would I? Sasha, you don't seem to get it. It's impossible. How will you know about true fear, if you know too damn well you have nothing to lose? How will you know about their pain, when you've gone through a ton of serum and didn't break?"
No. NO, you're not getting it. "I've been there. I..."
He laughed. "You, who would rather die than leave, think you can grasp what's to fear for your life?"
He wouldn't understand. Right? I let go – I pretty much had to as we heard a knock on the door. Our waiter.
Andrei rushed to open it. "Now, why on earth did I give you a key card, you idiot? Let me think – maybe it was so you could open the door all by yourself? Huh? Now, get a chair and sit. You came at the wrong moment. Sasha, come with me."
He led me to the balcony. We had taken off the suit jackets when we got into the room, and so, the night wind felt chilly against the thin shirt. He drew me closer to him. "Make me proud and I'll give you what you're asking for. Deal?"
"That's not–"
He cut me off, his eyes now mere inches in front of mine, his hand under my chin so I couldn't look away, his voice the eerie whisper I had come to both love and fear. "Or leave. Call it a day, go home. Your call."
I closed my eyes and let my head rest on his chest. Man, he was warm amidst the cool night air. "Okay. Deal."
He had that smirk of his when he pulled me apart. "Okay, then. Let's do this. Make me proud, my boy." He winked playfully. Shit. "Oh, and Sasha. We're not in public. Don't be afraid to go too far. There's no such a thing, anyway."
... SHIT.
I cut him off. "Well, it's not like you actually gave him a choice, you know."
He had that smirk of his in his eyes. "I thought it was you the one who said there's always a choice?"
Yeah. The choice of 'I'll die before I do this'. And thinking of it, that's what got Key killed. I sighed hard at the thought. No. That had been my decision. That part of the past was over, dead and buried – this time for sure. Andrei realized what he'd said.
"Oh, shit. I didn't mean–"
Again I stopped him. "It's not that. It's... I'm gonna need a better reason for this, Andrei."
He sighed again. "Why do you keep wanting to get hurt, Sasha."
"It's not even that. Andrei, do you have any idea on what you're doing? To them?"
He looked into my eyes, and again I saw the glistening void, the devil himself. "And how would I? Sasha, you don't seem to get it. It's impossible. How will you know about true fear, if you know too damn well you have nothing to lose? How will you know about their pain, when you've gone through a ton of serum and didn't break?"
No. NO, you're not getting it. "I've been there. I..."
He laughed. "You, who would rather die than leave, think you can grasp what's to fear for your life?"
He wouldn't understand. Right? I let go – I pretty much had to as we heard a knock on the door. Our waiter.
Andrei rushed to open it. "Now, why on earth did I give you a key card, you idiot? Let me think – maybe it was so you could open the door all by yourself? Huh? Now, get a chair and sit. You came at the wrong moment. Sasha, come with me."
He led me to the balcony. We had taken off the suit jackets when we got into the room, and so, the night wind felt chilly against the thin shirt. He drew me closer to him. "Make me proud and I'll give you what you're asking for. Deal?"
"That's not–"
He cut me off, his eyes now mere inches in front of mine, his hand under my chin so I couldn't look away, his voice the eerie whisper I had come to both love and fear. "Or leave. Call it a day, go home. Your call."
I closed my eyes and let my head rest on his chest. Man, he was warm amidst the cool night air. "Okay. Deal."
He had that smirk of his when he pulled me apart. "Okay, then. Let's do this. Make me proud, my boy." He winked playfully. Shit. "Oh, and Sasha. We're not in public. Don't be afraid to go too far. There's no such a thing, anyway."
... SHIT.
The Ball (5) - Lies
Andrei then came to my side and, after making sure the zipper was in place, gently guided me inside – to the service elevator. Out of everyone's view. He soon started chattering about what a good job I'd done, but the only thing I could do was get into his arms and drown. He fell silent when he realized it.
The elevator ride was only two or three stories long – I lost count after the first muted ding. It was only when the doors opened and he let go of me to get out, that realization hit me like a brick. "Andrei... you're not gonna keep your word, are you?"
He looked at me, a devilish grin in his eyes. "Nope."
I sighed a tad too loud, I guess. What had I been expecting? A million for a night? Seriously? ... Not even Key was that generous – and that was saying something. And she was a woman of her word. Andrei was the exact opposite. They say the devil's a liar, after all. Shit.
He lifted my head so my eyes would meet his, now radiating cold. "Do you mind it, Sasha?" He stopped me from stating the obvious. "Lie if you have to."
SHIT. I hated this game with my whole being. Even knowing it was a lie – it takes something to say certain things, doesn't it? ... "No. No, I don't mind."
Service stairwell, 11pm.
The man was in complete disarray. His shirt torn apart, letting in sight a crudely carved wound – a foot tall X, still bleeding lightly. That was not the worst of the sight. He had puked all over himself, so, when a waiter came by him, his first reaction was to cover his nose, and his second, to call security. Our man tried to hide, but soon realized it was pointless – as soon as the waiter greeted him.
"Hey, it's you, man! I almost mistook you for a hobo, looking like that! Whatever happened to you, man?"
Our man had started to cry again. "No-nothing, I swear. Listen, I– I gotta go."
"Sweet Christ, man, that's not nothing. Do you want me to call the police, or something? ... Seriously, what happened? I'm sure I can help you out of whatever it is!"
"... No, no, seriously... I... I'd rather not... not risk..." His voice trailed off.
He was trembling from head to toe, the waiter noticed. Then his eyes managed to lock into the man's chest wound. The waiter stopped in his tracks – sure, that had to do with the mob. And yeah, his partner was right – sometimes calling the cops is the worst idea you can have. Or so he'd heard. "Alright. You know where to find me if you change your mind."
Each of the men continued on his previous tracks – our man hoping for the other to realize that, indeed, calling the cops would probably get him killed. Or worse. He'd used to think death was the worst that could happen – that night he'd realized how wrong he'd been about that.
And yet, the nightmare had barely started.
The elevator ride was only two or three stories long – I lost count after the first muted ding. It was only when the doors opened and he let go of me to get out, that realization hit me like a brick. "Andrei... you're not gonna keep your word, are you?"
He looked at me, a devilish grin in his eyes. "Nope."
I sighed a tad too loud, I guess. What had I been expecting? A million for a night? Seriously? ... Not even Key was that generous – and that was saying something. And she was a woman of her word. Andrei was the exact opposite. They say the devil's a liar, after all. Shit.
He lifted my head so my eyes would meet his, now radiating cold. "Do you mind it, Sasha?" He stopped me from stating the obvious. "Lie if you have to."
SHIT. I hated this game with my whole being. Even knowing it was a lie – it takes something to say certain things, doesn't it? ... "No. No, I don't mind."
- - -
Service stairwell, 11pm.
The man was in complete disarray. His shirt torn apart, letting in sight a crudely carved wound – a foot tall X, still bleeding lightly. That was not the worst of the sight. He had puked all over himself, so, when a waiter came by him, his first reaction was to cover his nose, and his second, to call security. Our man tried to hide, but soon realized it was pointless – as soon as the waiter greeted him.
"Hey, it's you, man! I almost mistook you for a hobo, looking like that! Whatever happened to you, man?"
Our man had started to cry again. "No-nothing, I swear. Listen, I– I gotta go."
"Sweet Christ, man, that's not nothing. Do you want me to call the police, or something? ... Seriously, what happened? I'm sure I can help you out of whatever it is!"
"... No, no, seriously... I... I'd rather not... not risk..." His voice trailed off.
He was trembling from head to toe, the waiter noticed. Then his eyes managed to lock into the man's chest wound. The waiter stopped in his tracks – sure, that had to do with the mob. And yeah, his partner was right – sometimes calling the cops is the worst idea you can have. Or so he'd heard. "Alright. You know where to find me if you change your mind."
Each of the men continued on his previous tracks – our man hoping for the other to realize that, indeed, calling the cops would probably get him killed. Or worse. He'd used to think death was the worst that could happen – that night he'd realized how wrong he'd been about that.
And yet, the nightmare had barely started.
The Ball (4) - Going Down
Andrei grabbed our waiter again and put him on his feet, back tight against the low wall. "So, boy. What are you willing to do, huh?"
He was about to cry. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"Shhh... keep your voice low. The correct answer is Anything we say. Now, say it."
Our waiter hesitated for a second, 'till Andrei took a knife to his throat, pushing hard enough for it to hurt.
That seemed to convince the guy. "A-a-any... anything you– you say."
"Good. Say, was it that hard?"
The guy's look made it clear that yes, it was that hard.
Andrei stepped back and handed me the knife. No need for words. He'd done the convincing part, now it was my time to play. I glanced at him, then stared at our waiter. Tears raced down his cheeks. Fear. Power. Our drug of choice. Time to get high.
I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "Get on your knees. I don't want you tripping and falling down, you know."
He slowly knelt. Andrei took the chance to get behind him and gag him with his hands, then pointed at my knife. "Carve his chest."
Out of script? Maybe. I didn't really care at that point. I tore his shirt open and sliced a big X on his chest. He kept wiggling to get free and scream, but Andrei was way stronger, so our waiter didn't stand a chance.
I knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes. "You'll do as we say. Or else. Think ten stories down is a bad way to go? Think again. ... Think that hurt?" He barely nodded as I paused for an answer. "Then you have no clue on what pain actually is. That much I'll tell you. Now, try your best not to scream, will you? You don't want everybody to see you like this," I said, getting back on my feet and once more unzipping my pants. "Now, open your mouth and be quiet."
Doing it wasn't the worst for him. No, the worst hit was Andrei stepping aside, taking out his phone, and recording all of it. Of course, not before making him fully aware of it. Our waiter was now crying in silence, as I made sure he chocked on me and puked all over himself. The stench didn't help – but it was the price to pay for his fear, his desperation. That's what Andrei had asked for, and what I would deliver.
It took me a while. I was already spent from before, so I really had to focus. But the midnight sea came to the rescue. I was fully conscious of what I was doing, on where I was, but I was not self-conscious anymore. I had this. Andrei was there for me. My glass of water in hell. I felt it coming, slowly but surely. And I drowned in it.
Bang. I was aware enough to do it right – all over our poor waiter, who definitely wasn't expecting that ending. Then my head started to spin wildly, so I had to step aside to briefly recompose myself. I barely overheard Andrei give the guy a room number and a key card – apparently, we had been in a five stars hotel all the night. I'm not good at charity balls, okay?
He was about to cry. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"Shhh... keep your voice low. The correct answer is Anything we say. Now, say it."
Our waiter hesitated for a second, 'till Andrei took a knife to his throat, pushing hard enough for it to hurt.
That seemed to convince the guy. "A-a-any... anything you– you say."
"Good. Say, was it that hard?"
The guy's look made it clear that yes, it was that hard.
Andrei stepped back and handed me the knife. No need for words. He'd done the convincing part, now it was my time to play. I glanced at him, then stared at our waiter. Tears raced down his cheeks. Fear. Power. Our drug of choice. Time to get high.
I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "Get on your knees. I don't want you tripping and falling down, you know."
He slowly knelt. Andrei took the chance to get behind him and gag him with his hands, then pointed at my knife. "Carve his chest."
Out of script? Maybe. I didn't really care at that point. I tore his shirt open and sliced a big X on his chest. He kept wiggling to get free and scream, but Andrei was way stronger, so our waiter didn't stand a chance.
I knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes. "You'll do as we say. Or else. Think ten stories down is a bad way to go? Think again. ... Think that hurt?" He barely nodded as I paused for an answer. "Then you have no clue on what pain actually is. That much I'll tell you. Now, try your best not to scream, will you? You don't want everybody to see you like this," I said, getting back on my feet and once more unzipping my pants. "Now, open your mouth and be quiet."
Doing it wasn't the worst for him. No, the worst hit was Andrei stepping aside, taking out his phone, and recording all of it. Of course, not before making him fully aware of it. Our waiter was now crying in silence, as I made sure he chocked on me and puked all over himself. The stench didn't help – but it was the price to pay for his fear, his desperation. That's what Andrei had asked for, and what I would deliver.
It took me a while. I was already spent from before, so I really had to focus. But the midnight sea came to the rescue. I was fully conscious of what I was doing, on where I was, but I was not self-conscious anymore. I had this. Andrei was there for me. My glass of water in hell. I felt it coming, slowly but surely. And I drowned in it.
Bang. I was aware enough to do it right – all over our poor waiter, who definitely wasn't expecting that ending. Then my head started to spin wildly, so I had to step aside to briefly recompose myself. I barely overheard Andrei give the guy a room number and a key card – apparently, we had been in a five stars hotel all the night. I'm not good at charity balls, okay?
The Ball (3) - The Waiter
Andrei turned around, quickly scanning the rooftop. A few people here and there, minding their own businesses. Then he pointed his chin at the waiter. "Make him a good offer. Let's see what you can do."
"Goal?"
He put on that smirk of his. "Break him. Tear him apart."
I sighed loudly. Shit. I knew well I had to, but... "Andrei, you know... I... I could use a reason."
He sighed too. "You're completely nuts, Sasha. Why."
I couldn't help a soft smirk. "You know why."
Silence. He looked at me for a second before grabbing my left hand and deliberately rolling up the sleeve. I was just staring into his eyes. The midnight sea, faintly glowing under the moonlight. Resignation, maybe. The certainty that this was my price for following him down the road to his hell.
I was too lost in the sea to see anything else, to notice the knife in his hand, so the sudden pain on my wrist got me. I couldn't help a low scream from escaping my mouth, my eyes darting to the deep red gash for a second – nothing too bad, but it was bleeding quite a lot. Oh, well. So much for trying not to make a mess.
Still in silence, he proceeded to roll down the sleeve. The cuff fell exactly on top of the wound, staunching the blood quite fast – and turning crimson red in the process. He looked back up at me once he was done. I saw a frozen sea for a split second, right before he pointed once more at the waiter with his chin. No words needed. I really had to. I couldn't disappoint him.
I took a deep breath before heading where the guy was. Following orders. Yes, that's definitely what I was doing. There was no way out after all. Right?
"Hey sir," I approached him, "my friend there would like to offer you a job. "
"Well, I'm flattered, but I already have a job, you see."
"Well, I have the gut feeling that he's willing to offer quite a big sum." I didn't want to give a number by myself. "It only takes a few seconds to check out, man."
He followed me back to where Andrei was standing, as always leaning casually against the wall. He does have a thing for doing that.
"Hi, sir –"
Andrei cut him off. "Name's Andrei, my friend."
"Sorry, everybody around here expects me to call them sir, you know. Anyway, your... friend said you had a job for me?"
"A million dollars for a night."
"WHAT?!"
"Take it or leave."
"Wait, wait. What... kind of job are we talking about? I'm not about to do anything illegal, you know."
"Sasha here will tell you what it is about, huh?" Andrei looked at me, clearly saying 'I'm not gonna do your job, my boy'.
Nor I expected him to. "Well... we just want to have some fun, man. Nothing illegal, really. Just mess around a bit, you know, we're... feeling kinda lonely."
"The hell does that even mean? ... Look, I told you, I already have a job–"
I shifted gears into negotiating mode. "Well, listen one more second, okay? ... Tell me, how much do you make in this? ... The place seems nice, so, let's say, a hundred thousand dollars a year. Which to be honest, is quite a lot, I'd say real numbers are closer to half that, but let's leave it there, for simplicity's sake. So, at a hundred thousand a year, it would take you ten years to make what you can make in just one night. ... Still wanna leave?"
He looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Nobody offers that for…"
"Well, this is not your everyday job, you see. Let's give it a quick go, okay? You can change your mind after my little test."
Silence.
I patted gently on the low wall. "Sit on here, will you?"
"What?... It's too high, man. I... look, they'll fire me if I take too long of a break–"
Andrei cut him off again. "A single night or ten years' work. More like twenty. Are you sure you wanna leave? ... Hop on the wall and sit."
I held his hand as he clumsily climbed to the waist-high wall, a fall of ten stories behind him. He was trying really hard to not look down. Maybe he was scared of heights, or maybe he could read our intentions.
Whatever, I put on a smile – the work mask had come to come up naturally. "Look back, man. It's quite a fall, isn't it?"
He stopped his silent mutter to interject a tad too loud. "Fuck, what the hell do you want from me?"
For a split second, he looked like he was gonna get down and leave us, but Andrei stopped him, grabbed his arm, and sorta pushed back – just enough to make his intentions clear. "Keep your voice low, I'd rather not make a public mess." He glanced at me. "Grab his legs, Sasha, I don't want him accidentally falling."
I secured them under my armpits, pushing his butt back in the process. If we both let go, he'd fall. He let out a muted curse as he realized that.
Andrei pushed further back, making the poor guy stand over thin air. He glanced at me – he was willing to help, but I had to take the lead.
So I did. Or at least I tried. "Quite the fall, isn't it? ... Listen, here's the deal. You'll do everything we ask – or else."
"Look I– I have changed my mind. I don't want your fucking money, I want to go back to serving drinks to rich people."
Andrei was grinning hard. "If only it was that easy, right? But it isn't. You don't get to go back – you've already seen too much. Now there are only two ways for this to end. One, you end up with a million bucks. The flip side is, you'll earn every single cent of it, I promise. Or two, you're dead. Ten stories. You'll reach the ground alive, and die of the impact – if you're lucky."
I pushed further back, stressing Andrei's words. Smiling candidly. "Well, knowing Andrei here, falling it's not a bad way to go. Only takes a few seconds, and then it's over. Could be worse, man."
He was completely white, eyes tightly shut, muttering something I couldn't understand.
Andrei smiled again. "Sasha is right, you know. We could make it oh-so-much-worse."
"Who– who the hell are you." He managed to say.
Andrei glanced at me quickly to make sure I was holding him tight, then he let go of the guy's arm to draw his ID card. Then he seemed to realize that the guy was hanging just from my arms, and grabbed him by the shirt, and finally the collar, to pull him up. "We're Detentions, boy. This is the kind of stuff we do. We're good at making people cooperate, you know. Now. Last chance, and I swear I mean it. Anything we ask, or fall to your death."
He barely managed to nod, but I guess Andrei thought it was enough, 'cause he pulled him forward. The poor guy didn't manage to land on his feet, crashing instead onto the rooftop's floor. Oh, well. Better than a ten stories fall, that's for sure.
"Goal?"
He put on that smirk of his. "Break him. Tear him apart."
I sighed loudly. Shit. I knew well I had to, but... "Andrei, you know... I... I could use a reason."
He sighed too. "You're completely nuts, Sasha. Why."
I couldn't help a soft smirk. "You know why."
Silence. He looked at me for a second before grabbing my left hand and deliberately rolling up the sleeve. I was just staring into his eyes. The midnight sea, faintly glowing under the moonlight. Resignation, maybe. The certainty that this was my price for following him down the road to his hell.
I was too lost in the sea to see anything else, to notice the knife in his hand, so the sudden pain on my wrist got me. I couldn't help a low scream from escaping my mouth, my eyes darting to the deep red gash for a second – nothing too bad, but it was bleeding quite a lot. Oh, well. So much for trying not to make a mess.
Still in silence, he proceeded to roll down the sleeve. The cuff fell exactly on top of the wound, staunching the blood quite fast – and turning crimson red in the process. He looked back up at me once he was done. I saw a frozen sea for a split second, right before he pointed once more at the waiter with his chin. No words needed. I really had to. I couldn't disappoint him.
I took a deep breath before heading where the guy was. Following orders. Yes, that's definitely what I was doing. There was no way out after all. Right?
"Hey sir," I approached him, "my friend there would like to offer you a job. "
"Well, I'm flattered, but I already have a job, you see."
"Well, I have the gut feeling that he's willing to offer quite a big sum." I didn't want to give a number by myself. "It only takes a few seconds to check out, man."
He followed me back to where Andrei was standing, as always leaning casually against the wall. He does have a thing for doing that.
"Hi, sir –"
Andrei cut him off. "Name's Andrei, my friend."
"Sorry, everybody around here expects me to call them sir, you know. Anyway, your... friend said you had a job for me?"
"A million dollars for a night."
"WHAT?!"
"Take it or leave."
"Wait, wait. What... kind of job are we talking about? I'm not about to do anything illegal, you know."
"Sasha here will tell you what it is about, huh?" Andrei looked at me, clearly saying 'I'm not gonna do your job, my boy'.
Nor I expected him to. "Well... we just want to have some fun, man. Nothing illegal, really. Just mess around a bit, you know, we're... feeling kinda lonely."
"The hell does that even mean? ... Look, I told you, I already have a job–"
I shifted gears into negotiating mode. "Well, listen one more second, okay? ... Tell me, how much do you make in this? ... The place seems nice, so, let's say, a hundred thousand dollars a year. Which to be honest, is quite a lot, I'd say real numbers are closer to half that, but let's leave it there, for simplicity's sake. So, at a hundred thousand a year, it would take you ten years to make what you can make in just one night. ... Still wanna leave?"
He looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Nobody offers that for…"
"Well, this is not your everyday job, you see. Let's give it a quick go, okay? You can change your mind after my little test."
Silence.
I patted gently on the low wall. "Sit on here, will you?"
"What?... It's too high, man. I... look, they'll fire me if I take too long of a break–"
Andrei cut him off again. "A single night or ten years' work. More like twenty. Are you sure you wanna leave? ... Hop on the wall and sit."
I held his hand as he clumsily climbed to the waist-high wall, a fall of ten stories behind him. He was trying really hard to not look down. Maybe he was scared of heights, or maybe he could read our intentions.
Whatever, I put on a smile – the work mask had come to come up naturally. "Look back, man. It's quite a fall, isn't it?"
He stopped his silent mutter to interject a tad too loud. "Fuck, what the hell do you want from me?"
For a split second, he looked like he was gonna get down and leave us, but Andrei stopped him, grabbed his arm, and sorta pushed back – just enough to make his intentions clear. "Keep your voice low, I'd rather not make a public mess." He glanced at me. "Grab his legs, Sasha, I don't want him accidentally falling."
I secured them under my armpits, pushing his butt back in the process. If we both let go, he'd fall. He let out a muted curse as he realized that.
Andrei pushed further back, making the poor guy stand over thin air. He glanced at me – he was willing to help, but I had to take the lead.
So I did. Or at least I tried. "Quite the fall, isn't it? ... Listen, here's the deal. You'll do everything we ask – or else."
"Look I– I have changed my mind. I don't want your fucking money, I want to go back to serving drinks to rich people."
Andrei was grinning hard. "If only it was that easy, right? But it isn't. You don't get to go back – you've already seen too much. Now there are only two ways for this to end. One, you end up with a million bucks. The flip side is, you'll earn every single cent of it, I promise. Or two, you're dead. Ten stories. You'll reach the ground alive, and die of the impact – if you're lucky."
I pushed further back, stressing Andrei's words. Smiling candidly. "Well, knowing Andrei here, falling it's not a bad way to go. Only takes a few seconds, and then it's over. Could be worse, man."
He was completely white, eyes tightly shut, muttering something I couldn't understand.
Andrei smiled again. "Sasha is right, you know. We could make it oh-so-much-worse."
"Who– who the hell are you." He managed to say.
Andrei glanced at me quickly to make sure I was holding him tight, then he let go of the guy's arm to draw his ID card. Then he seemed to realize that the guy was hanging just from my arms, and grabbed him by the shirt, and finally the collar, to pull him up. "We're Detentions, boy. This is the kind of stuff we do. We're good at making people cooperate, you know. Now. Last chance, and I swear I mean it. Anything we ask, or fall to your death."
He barely managed to nod, but I guess Andrei thought it was enough, 'cause he pulled him forward. The poor guy didn't manage to land on his feet, crashing instead onto the rooftop's floor. Oh, well. Better than a ten stories fall, that's for sure.
The Ball (2) - Dinner
By 9 pm we were at the most boring party I've ever had the displeasure of assisting to. The dinner was kinda good, but I was too worried about not getting any of it on the suit to actually enjoy the food. You see, the damned suit wasn't the real problem – getting it soiled in front of all these people was.
It was quite late when we finally got to the rooftop, leaving behind the awful music and the noisy chatter. The soft wind and the cool night made the suit a good choice. Andrei led me to the low-walled edge, and I couldn't help but to look down.
"Ten stories. Quite the fall, isn't it?" He said, hugging me from the back and immobilizing me against the waist-high wall, his voice almost a whisper against my ear.
I knew too well he was just messing with me, so I figured I should play along. "You gonna ask me to jump, or what?"
He laughed softly, his hand keenly reaching for my inner pocket. I barely noticed it, 'till the sharp knife caressed my throat. "I don't know, Sasha. Should I?" The amusement in his soft voice was too damn obvious. Just a silly game. As always, until it isn't.
My breath started to rage as I closed my eyes, grabbing the edge of the wall as if my life depended on it, knuckles steadily losing their color. I tried not to drown into the sensation, but man was it a hard task.
"What do you want, Sasha?" He teased me as he noticed my reaction.
"Do it," I whispered back.
He smiled softly. "Well, we can't really make a mess here, can we?" Yet the edge of the knife dug faintly into my skin, almost a too harsh caress.
I took in the feeling and drowned on it. Heaven, hell, who cares. This was what I was there for. Yet it wasn't enough. It never is. "That's barely a scratch."
"I told you we can't make a mess, didn't I?"
"Screw it all, Andrei. Do it."
"So, you wanna fool around, huh? What are you willing to do, Sasha?" The grin in his voice was obvious – and so, I realized this was the reason he'd brought me to the party. So he wouldn't die of boredom, indeed.
"Anything."
He quickly glanced around to check for curious cats, but apparently nobody cared about some guys talking a bit too close to the edge. In a split second, the knife had disappeared from his hand, only to be replaced by my own hands. He softly led them down, stopping right at the pants button. Shit. Words weren't needed – what he wanted was obvious enough.
My heart was racing as I opened the button, and then the zipper. Then the knife appeared in his hand again, tearing my underpants open with an accurate flick, freeing my dick from its prison. Fuck I was hard.
His breath hitting my neck had me sold, but he still said it. "Have fun, Sasha."
I knew well he had everything in control, I knew nobody could really see what was happening, but still. Being so exposed and completely in his hands made me really self-conscious. And horny. So I grabbed the thing and started jerking at it. First slowly, but then everything sorta started spinning and I lost all sense of time and place, and just let go, drowning in his embrace.
Right until I heard his voice again. "Don't soil your pants, you don't want everyone to know what you did, do you?"
No. I guess. I didn't care about anything anymore. Except I did. Shit. The very thought... Bang. Oh, well. I finally opened my eyes and looked down. There was a mess in the wall, but it looked like my pants were clean. I sighed, letting my head rest on his shoulder. "Holy shit, man."
He laughed softly. "Do you think this is over, my boy?" He shoved me forward against the wall, and with another hand flick – the knife had appeared yet again – cut another gash into my underpants, this time in the back.
The feeling of his hand against the bare skin made my head spin again, but what got me back up was its obvious course – like a river, that twists and turns around the mountains, but always ends up in the sea, so his hand, his finger, ended up, first around, then in, my asshole. And I got hard again. Oh, well.
"Close the zipper. Trust me."
I had no clue where this was going, but I did as he asked. And only then I realized. In. Shit. SHIT.
"Let go."
I tried. But I was too damn self-conscious. And there wasn't nearly enough room in my pants. "Oh, shit, stop it, Andrei."
His hand stopped abruptly. "... You want me to stop?" He said, every word calculated to hint at the correct answer, but still offering the choice – leaving it in my hands.
"Goddammit, just play along, you know what I mean!" I said a little too loud.
He laughed softly. "You almost got me, my boy. Alright, I'll play along. After all, you're always telling me to not let you go, right? Well... no need, there's no way out, is it?"
"Oh, shit..." Everything was spinning again, and his constant murmur only made it worse – only made me harder, mind you. I wondered if someone had ever broken a zipper with a boner. I totally could see it happening.
"No, you know there isn't. You know you like this, or you'd actually stop it. Now, you know how this ends, don't you? ... Come in there. Come on. Do it for me."
Bang. Crash.
He hugged me, hard. He knew well I needed it.
"How." I managed to say while trying not to drown in his arms. In the night sea. How on earth can you do that, you psycho. No need to say every word, he got it with just the first one.
He took a few seconds to answer. "Are you up for another... lesson? A test?"
Shit. I totally knew where it was going. "I'm up for an answer."
"I can't really explain it with just words, you know. Sasha, look at me."
I tried hard to stay afloat as I shifted around, but the sea was quite unforgiving that night.
"You know you don't have to, but I honestly think you could use a lesson. You shouldn't have to ask that question, you know."
Silence. My eyes said everything. I can't. I'd rather not. Shit. I can't say no. Not even for you, for myself. Shit.
"What exactly are you willing to do, Sasha."
It too took me a few seconds to answer that one, my mind still debating over it, yet knowing well the battle was long since lost. "Anything. Just ask."
His soft smile sealed the deal. "That's my boy."
It was quite late when we finally got to the rooftop, leaving behind the awful music and the noisy chatter. The soft wind and the cool night made the suit a good choice. Andrei led me to the low-walled edge, and I couldn't help but to look down.
"Ten stories. Quite the fall, isn't it?" He said, hugging me from the back and immobilizing me against the waist-high wall, his voice almost a whisper against my ear.
I knew too well he was just messing with me, so I figured I should play along. "You gonna ask me to jump, or what?"
He laughed softly, his hand keenly reaching for my inner pocket. I barely noticed it, 'till the sharp knife caressed my throat. "I don't know, Sasha. Should I?" The amusement in his soft voice was too damn obvious. Just a silly game. As always, until it isn't.
My breath started to rage as I closed my eyes, grabbing the edge of the wall as if my life depended on it, knuckles steadily losing their color. I tried not to drown into the sensation, but man was it a hard task.
"What do you want, Sasha?" He teased me as he noticed my reaction.
"Do it," I whispered back.
He smiled softly. "Well, we can't really make a mess here, can we?" Yet the edge of the knife dug faintly into my skin, almost a too harsh caress.
I took in the feeling and drowned on it. Heaven, hell, who cares. This was what I was there for. Yet it wasn't enough. It never is. "That's barely a scratch."
"I told you we can't make a mess, didn't I?"
"Screw it all, Andrei. Do it."
"So, you wanna fool around, huh? What are you willing to do, Sasha?" The grin in his voice was obvious – and so, I realized this was the reason he'd brought me to the party. So he wouldn't die of boredom, indeed.
"Anything."
He quickly glanced around to check for curious cats, but apparently nobody cared about some guys talking a bit too close to the edge. In a split second, the knife had disappeared from his hand, only to be replaced by my own hands. He softly led them down, stopping right at the pants button. Shit. Words weren't needed – what he wanted was obvious enough.
My heart was racing as I opened the button, and then the zipper. Then the knife appeared in his hand again, tearing my underpants open with an accurate flick, freeing my dick from its prison. Fuck I was hard.
His breath hitting my neck had me sold, but he still said it. "Have fun, Sasha."
I knew well he had everything in control, I knew nobody could really see what was happening, but still. Being so exposed and completely in his hands made me really self-conscious. And horny. So I grabbed the thing and started jerking at it. First slowly, but then everything sorta started spinning and I lost all sense of time and place, and just let go, drowning in his embrace.
Right until I heard his voice again. "Don't soil your pants, you don't want everyone to know what you did, do you?"
No. I guess. I didn't care about anything anymore. Except I did. Shit. The very thought... Bang. Oh, well. I finally opened my eyes and looked down. There was a mess in the wall, but it looked like my pants were clean. I sighed, letting my head rest on his shoulder. "Holy shit, man."
He laughed softly. "Do you think this is over, my boy?" He shoved me forward against the wall, and with another hand flick – the knife had appeared yet again – cut another gash into my underpants, this time in the back.
The feeling of his hand against the bare skin made my head spin again, but what got me back up was its obvious course – like a river, that twists and turns around the mountains, but always ends up in the sea, so his hand, his finger, ended up, first around, then in, my asshole. And I got hard again. Oh, well.
"Close the zipper. Trust me."
I had no clue where this was going, but I did as he asked. And only then I realized. In. Shit. SHIT.
"Let go."
I tried. But I was too damn self-conscious. And there wasn't nearly enough room in my pants. "Oh, shit, stop it, Andrei."
His hand stopped abruptly. "... You want me to stop?" He said, every word calculated to hint at the correct answer, but still offering the choice – leaving it in my hands.
"Goddammit, just play along, you know what I mean!" I said a little too loud.
He laughed softly. "You almost got me, my boy. Alright, I'll play along. After all, you're always telling me to not let you go, right? Well... no need, there's no way out, is it?"
"Oh, shit..." Everything was spinning again, and his constant murmur only made it worse – only made me harder, mind you. I wondered if someone had ever broken a zipper with a boner. I totally could see it happening.
"No, you know there isn't. You know you like this, or you'd actually stop it. Now, you know how this ends, don't you? ... Come in there. Come on. Do it for me."
Bang. Crash.
He hugged me, hard. He knew well I needed it.
"How." I managed to say while trying not to drown in his arms. In the night sea. How on earth can you do that, you psycho. No need to say every word, he got it with just the first one.
He took a few seconds to answer. "Are you up for another... lesson? A test?"
Shit. I totally knew where it was going. "I'm up for an answer."
"I can't really explain it with just words, you know. Sasha, look at me."
I tried hard to stay afloat as I shifted around, but the sea was quite unforgiving that night.
"You know you don't have to, but I honestly think you could use a lesson. You shouldn't have to ask that question, you know."
Silence. My eyes said everything. I can't. I'd rather not. Shit. I can't say no. Not even for you, for myself. Shit.
"What exactly are you willing to do, Sasha."
It too took me a few seconds to answer that one, my mind still debating over it, yet knowing well the battle was long since lost. "Anything. Just ask."
His soft smile sealed the deal. "That's my boy."
The Ball (1) - Black Tie
As usual, I knocked on the door to Andrei's office.
"Come in. Oh, it's you," he said as I opened the door and got inside. "Look, there's a ball tomorrow evening. Sorry, not the fun kind, boy," he added before I could say anything. "Charity event of sorts."
I looked at him with a mix of annoyance and worry. "You know I hate social events, Andrei."
He almost laughed. "Yeah, so do I. That's why I would like you to come. So I don't die of boredom. Or worse." … Or mess it up.
I sighed. "Count me in, I guess."
"Thank you, Sasha. I'll make sure everything is ready tomorrow."
It was early evening when I visited him the next day.
"You're early, Sasha," he greeted me with a soft, warm smile.
"I'd have come later if I didn't know better," I teased back.
"I guess you have a point. Anyway, I got you a proper suit, it's in the closet inside." He pointed his head to the safe room beneath his office.
I opened the closet to be greeted by a premium-looking suit bag. I carefully opened it – and couldn't help cursing. He always made me wear a suit – usually navy blue – but this... this was something else. Black tie event. Shit. What kind of charity ball was this? And why did we have to go?
I felt him leaning on the door frame, so I turned around and met his amused smirk. "You don't like it?"
"I... wasn't exactly expecting this kind of...." I trailed off.
"Well, we have to look like everyone else, or we'll draw too much attention."
I took a breath before taking the plunge. "... Andrei, is this any sort of mission?"
"The only goal is to not mess up. So... I guess, no?" His constant grin was making me nervous. Seeing him in such a good mood, when I knew for sure he hated public events, was creepy as hell. Did he have something in mind? Who knows. "Anyway, get dressed, or we'll be late."
I laughed at the joke – I had been quite early – as I got the thing on. It fit like a glove, but that didn't make me hate it any less. And the actual bow tie had to be pretty tight to sit in place. ... He usually didn't make me wear anything at the neck – which considering his obsession with suits and whatnot, was quite a-something.
I was looking in the mirror, trying to decide if I looked gorgeous or totally out of place or both, when he slipped a knife into my inner pocket. I looked at him, wordless in my confusion. He'd said this wasn't a mission, so I had assumed that'd mean no weapons... right? ... Wrong.
"You never know, Sasha. Better safe than sorry."
"I just hope they don't have metal detectors," I joked.
His grin widened considerably. "Well, I hope they do."
"Come in. Oh, it's you," he said as I opened the door and got inside. "Look, there's a ball tomorrow evening. Sorry, not the fun kind, boy," he added before I could say anything. "Charity event of sorts."
I looked at him with a mix of annoyance and worry. "You know I hate social events, Andrei."
He almost laughed. "Yeah, so do I. That's why I would like you to come. So I don't die of boredom. Or worse." … Or mess it up.
I sighed. "Count me in, I guess."
"Thank you, Sasha. I'll make sure everything is ready tomorrow."
- - -
It was early evening when I visited him the next day.
"You're early, Sasha," he greeted me with a soft, warm smile.
"I'd have come later if I didn't know better," I teased back.
"I guess you have a point. Anyway, I got you a proper suit, it's in the closet inside." He pointed his head to the safe room beneath his office.
I opened the closet to be greeted by a premium-looking suit bag. I carefully opened it – and couldn't help cursing. He always made me wear a suit – usually navy blue – but this... this was something else. Black tie event. Shit. What kind of charity ball was this? And why did we have to go?
I felt him leaning on the door frame, so I turned around and met his amused smirk. "You don't like it?"
"I... wasn't exactly expecting this kind of...." I trailed off.
"Well, we have to look like everyone else, or we'll draw too much attention."
I took a breath before taking the plunge. "... Andrei, is this any sort of mission?"
"The only goal is to not mess up. So... I guess, no?" His constant grin was making me nervous. Seeing him in such a good mood, when I knew for sure he hated public events, was creepy as hell. Did he have something in mind? Who knows. "Anyway, get dressed, or we'll be late."
I laughed at the joke – I had been quite early – as I got the thing on. It fit like a glove, but that didn't make me hate it any less. And the actual bow tie had to be pretty tight to sit in place. ... He usually didn't make me wear anything at the neck – which considering his obsession with suits and whatnot, was quite a-something.
I was looking in the mirror, trying to decide if I looked gorgeous or totally out of place or both, when he slipped a knife into my inner pocket. I looked at him, wordless in my confusion. He'd said this wasn't a mission, so I had assumed that'd mean no weapons... right? ... Wrong.
"You never know, Sasha. Better safe than sorry."
"I just hope they don't have metal detectors," I joked.
His grin widened considerably. "Well, I hope they do."
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