A lucky evening

We were out celebrating our friend Mr. F's … recent acquisition of a new club in the city, by having some drinks in said club. We were headed to a VIP booth when Mr. F's eye caught something… unusual.

Mr. F signaled to our guide and bouncer. "Blair... will you be an excellent bouncer and throw out that old guy over there?"

Blair looked at him in surprise. "Sure man, what's the beef though?"

"He's a fucking asshole," Mr. F said coldly.

I looked at them both, trying to figure what was going on. It wasn't like Mr. F to randomly throw a fit over an old beef… right?

Blair grabbed the man and dragged him out forcefully, making him start yelling something in what sounded like Chinese…

My eyes started darting back and forth from him to Mr. F and back again, I couldn't believe our luck that day…

Mr. F waved at the man "Try the fish!!" making us all laugh loudly. Ah, the beauty of karma -- when you're in the right side of it, that is.

"Blair, wait," I said, still smiling, "lead him to the office, will you?"

"Sure thing, Boss…" he replied with a smile as he dragged him up the stairs.

"And someone make me a VERY hot coffee," I said to nobody in particular.

The sexy bartender came over to take my improvised order, particularly concerned. "Is… everything alright?"

I smiled at her dismissively. "Yes, don't worry."

"VERY hot coffee, extremely warm. And send it up to the third floor, " added Mr. F.

I nodded. "Just boil the milk."

She was still confused about the ordeal. "Wait… which room?"

"The office. Or wait, I'll take it upstairs myself."

"Andrei, not in front of the strippers. That's just nasty," pointed out Mr. F. You see, he's a weird one. He's cool with our job, but at the same time he can be too damn nice.

I nodded. "Don’t' worry, that's what the office is for. But there's no need for Mrs. Rose here to bring up the coffee, I can do that myself." I paused for a moment, I'd had yet another idea. "Oh, dear," I told Rose, "and a bottle of your cheapest vodka."

The rest of our friends were just having a chat with the personnel about the recent acquisition of the place over some drinks, as I waited for my peculiar order to arrive.

Rose soon came with the order: a tray with a pot of boiling coffee, an unlabeled bottle of something sold as vodka, and a small jug of milk.

"Thanks, dear." I smiled to her. "Now, if you all excuse me… " I said to the others as I took the tray and brought it upstairs. Thankfully the tray was fancy isolated one, or I'd have burnt my hand on the way up. … It wasn't exactly easy to go up three flights of stairs with it, you know.

In the office, I found the old man sitting in a chair blabbering unintelligible Chinese noises.

He threw me a death glare. "YOU! Thieving coffee man! You no paid!"

I smiled softly at him. "You got off easy last time. But I heard you like coffee, da? Well, I'm a nice man, I brought you the real thing." I made a big deal of pouring the boiled milk in the coffee jug, playing the part of a good host. He kept staring at it, not knowing whether to make heads or tails out of this. I helped him by kicking his knee and throwing him onto the floor.

The old fart started cursing in a weird mix of Chinese and Russian and English. "You fuck yourself!! Da? FUCK! Tā mā de!"  He kept ranting as he flipped me the bird, bits of saliva flying everywhere with every single word of his.

I smiled at him. "Shush, old man. I'm here to pay for that coffee, da? … With some more coffee, you see," I said, as I let the coffee start, first dripping, then pouring, all over him.

He screamed his lungs out in a weird noise that sounded like an angry cat, somehow trying to get away, but in too much pain to actually move more than a couple inches.  

As the jug was mostly empty, I simply turned it upside down, letting the last of it drop on him. I looked at him. "There. A coffee for a coffee, da? We good?"

His screams now had turned into a pleading noise -- I think it was Chinese, but the tone said it all.

I laughed. "Don’t' be such a crybaby, hot coffee isn't THAT hot. Speaking of, I got you a gift." I smiled at him. "Now, I hope your clothes aren't plastic, because, you see, plastic has the annoying habit to catch fire too easily…"

The man started whimpering. "Bù xièxiè…" He seemed to realize I had no clue of Chinese. "no…. No, please…"

I opened the bottle and took a sip. FUCK it was CRAP. "Ahhhhh… da, da, the cheap crap…. I love it…" I offered him the bottle. "Want some?" Then I realized… the carpeting. It felt most definitely faux fur. The kind that goes up in flames almost by itself. … Sure, fire regulations were a thing, but… setting Mr. F's new club on fire wasn't in today's agenda. I cursed to myself as I grabbed his broken leg and dragged him out.

Of course, he started screaming like a whiny bitch.

"Oh, shut up already, will you?" I mostly ignored his pleas as I kept dragging him forward. But he wouldn't stop, and there were … civilians around. Can't have them freak out. I loaded him on my shoulder and put my hand firmly over his mouth, muzzling his screams enough to not attract so much attention.

And then the idiot had the brilliant idea of biting my hand. I swear, it's like they have never been in a mildly … uncomfortable situation.

"You IDIOT," I said, as I dropped him on the floor chin first -- dislocating his jaw. Then I simply kept dragging faster, as he was now making weird noises. I rushed past the main floor, but I'd sworn I caught Blair eyeing us. Oh well, good thing he's not an idiot.  Finally at the restroom, I got him in one of the stalls and sat him on the toilet, and glanced around. Yes, no flammable materials… no risk of setting the whole building on fire.

He kept whimpering in a weird mix of Chinese and Russian, not helped by the fact that he couldn't move his jaw at all.

"Now," I pulled my knife, "stay still, da? I don’t' want you bleeding out." I carelessly ripped off his clothes, then took another sip of the bottle. "Good crap, da. Say. Want some?"

He was looking at me without seeing, a low, unintelligible whimper coming out of his throat.

I slapped him. "I asked you a question."

He started sobbing a bit louder. Not only he couldn't really talk, but apparently his brain had overheated and couldn't process my question, much less find an answer.

I sighed as I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, leaving his mouth fully open, and emptied the whole bottle in it -- most of it spilled around, helped by him getting quite choked by so much fluid in such little time. "Not bad huh? At least compared to your coffee, da?"

He was too busy coughing and trying to scream as the alcohol burnt stung his already burnt skin.

I couldn't help smiling. This was always my favorite part. You see, vodka boils at about 80C. It's HOT, but not hot enough to actually cause any major damage… I grabbed a match and lit it up in front of his eyes, smiling at him.

More, louder whimpering. It was SO heart-warming.

In silence, I took a step back and threw the match at him -- the alcohol immediately caught fire.

He tried to scream, but again ended up sounding like a cat with a sore throat.

I laughed. "Stop wailing like that, it's not good for your throat. Besides, this isn't that bad, you're lucky I didn't bring my work case today…" As the fire died, I grabbed the empty bottle and smashed it on his head, knocking him out. I shook my head, made sure the stall's door was locked, and headed back to meet the others.

June (2) - Hate

It was still dark when the phone rang, jolting me awake from the early morning slumber. As I pressed the reply button, a known voice greeted me. "Good morning Andrei, this is Kostya. Operations made a couple of high-profile detentions yesterday night, we need you to come in and deal with them… discreetly. We can't afford an international crisis."

I sighed, then realized it was June already. Damn gay pride month. Idiots going out to display their stupidity, as if saying "look at me, I SO want to go to prison tee-hee, can't wait to drop the soap bar in the showers". I cursed loudly before hanging up the phone. Guess it was time to give some of those idiots a good fuck.

Sasha was looking at me, still half-asleep.

I sighed again before addressing him. "Get moving. It's June already. And apparently, some big idiot was caught being an idiot."

The ride to Central was strangely silent. I glanced a couple times at Sasha, who was deep inside his mind. Something was upsetting him. I could only guess what.

- - -

After checking in at the main entrance, we took the elevator to my office, still in silence. Once in, I locked the door and looked at him. "Sasha. Got anything to say?"

He sighed and pointed his head at the door to the safe room. "Mind if we… keep this private?"

"Sure," I said, unlocking said door and locking it again after we both got int. "So?"

"It's… I … heard you this morning. I…"

I sighed. "Sasha. I know what's in that head of yours. You care too damn much about everything and everyone. But tell me," I said, softly caressing the once again fresh scar on his cheek, "who do you work for."

He looked intensely at me. "You."

I nodded and smiled at him. "Exactly. And what is your job?"

"To follow orders."

"Bingo. Now, let me tell you one thing: those idiots got themselves into this mess."

He grabbed my hand as I was about to open the door. "… Don't you feel like a hypocrite, Andrei?"

I couldn't help laughing and winking an eye at him. "Why would you say that, my boy?"

- - -

Back in my office, I checked the files on the detainees. Vyacheslav Yakubovich and Lev Kalinin. Two high-profile gay rights activists. This time they had apparently been harassing some news channels to correct some misleading numbers of yearly detentions during the gay pride events. Officially they had been brought in for harassment. In reality, they probably had sent a couple too many letters, and someone with some common sense and very little patience for bullshit reported them. And now our job was to make sure they learned the lesson.

I skimmed over the rest of their files. Almost yearly detentions, every time for some similar nonsense. It annoyed me that I had to waste my time on this nonsense instead of going after the real terrorists and mobsters, but hey, I wasn't about to complain about work.

I called Sasha via comms chip. "Sasha. I'm sending you the files. I want you to start by yourself, you're better at playing nice than me. Your job is to seduce them. Make them show their rainbow colors on camera. And don't worry, we'll edit out anything that could get you in trouble."

He smiled. "Of course, Andrei."

- - -

Sasha lightly touched his scarred cheek and took a deep breath before smiling to himself and unlocking the door to the cell. The room inside was our everyday white room -- full tiled walls and floor, with a harsh cold light radiating from the whole ceiling. In the center, a polished steel table, along with four steel chairs, the furthest ones occupied by the two men.

They made a funny couple. One of them was on the round side -- chubby and quite short and apparently had never heard about shaving razors. The other was tall, a gym rat, and didn't seem to have a single hair on his body. The first thing they did when they saw Sasha enter was kiss passionately.

Sasha sighed. He'd finally gotten it. They were idiots who didn't know when to stop fighting and swallow their stupid pride even if their lives depended on it -- or maybe they didn't even realize their lives were actually on the line.

The two men finally broke the kiss and giggled like teenagers, Lev winking provocatively at Sasha, as if saying "yes we're gay and proud and there's nothing you can do about that."

Sasha sighed again. "That was very romantic but you're here for harassing some media workers."

They looked at each other before looking back at Sasha. "We all know why we're here for, honey," said Slava, his voice a forced high pitch that almost made me want to turn audio off.

Sasha looked at them and shrugged. "Well, that's what your file says, guys. But maybe you want to tell me your version of it?"

"We never sent those letters, but it seems like someone likes us enough to want to see us every other year," said Slava. "Whoever it is, keeps making up stuff to arrest us."

Sasha sighed. "You really think lying to me is gonna help you?"

"We don’t lie, honey," replied Lev in a similarly annoying fake high-pitched voice.

Sasha got up and went to disconnect the main camera. The two men followed him with their eyes, Lev 'absentmindedly' whistling as he gave them his back. Sasha ignored it and sat back. "Okay. So. I'm willing to be impartial here and listen to your version, but, ahem, for obvious reasons, it has to be off the record. So, care to tell me what is supposedly going on?"

Lev took the lead. "Look, we never sent those letters, somebody did it in our name. Every single year is the same. We haven't done anything, we're just the way we are, and we don't even go out of our way to show it."

Sasha rolled his eyes at what was probably the worst lie of the year.

Slava corrected his friend. "You think … our welcome was an obvious display, and it indeed was. But see -- we won't let anyone shut us down. This is what we are, and nothing will change that. We're tired of your lies, of making up stuff to bring us here when the actual reason is painfully obvious, honey."

Sasha looked at them. "Look, if you insist on lying, I can't help you." And with that, he got up and left.

- - -

I called him as soon as the door closed. "Sasha, the hell was that? Don't tell me you have any problem?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I know they're telling the truth, I don't care. But you asked me to get them on video… and I'll tell you, now that the main camera is off, it's a matter of time before they get bored and start having gay fun."

I laughed. The boy was simply brilliant.

June (1) - Love

Ah, the spring. After the winter leaves and the snow melts, and everything is clean, and the sun is setting as we come home from work, setting the whole sky on fire. It really is breathtaking.

… I don't think Andrei really cares about the view. You see, he's more of a winter person. Yeah, Russians are like that. Still, he kept glancing at me the whole car ride back home, without saying a word. He finally parked the SUV in the alley, then looked at me.

The sea in his eyes was more than enough to quench the sky. I wanted nothing more than to drown in his arms, to get lost in the ocean even if it meant not seeing the sunset ever again.

Of course, he seemed to read my mind. The soft smile accentuating his words made my heart want to jump out of my chest as he patted his leg. "Come sit, my boy."

Almost in trance, I sat on his lap. I didn't even register the wheel digging into my ribcage, I was just drowning in the ocean, nothing else existed. Then I felt his deliciously warm hand slowly crawling up my arm, until it reached my shoulder and then softly landed over my nape. The slight pressure like gravity, pulling me down, down into the ocean… I closed my eyes as I sank fully into the water, our lips at first barely touching, then the scene turned into a nature documentary of the predator eating his willing prey.

After a while that felt like an eternity in heaven and hell at the same time, we both pulled back, gasping for air. His eyes darted down, and he burst into laughter. "Oh my, spring is really doing a number on you, huh?"

I felt the heat rising to my face. I… no! Yes? Had it been the fire, the ocean, the eternity?

It didn't matter. Andrei's hand was already softly brushing the bulge in my pants, which only made it grow tighter -- it was starting to hurt so nicely. His smile didn't help. "So, do you want me, Sasha?"

The part of my brain that does words stopped working, and thus I could only nod -- but it was more than enough to him.

He winked at me. "Then get on your feet. I can't do miracles yet, boy."

I shifted around and leaned against the wheel, only to feel the cool air on my ass accompanied by the sound of fabric ripping, which only made my cock throb harder. Then I felt his now moist fingers play 'get lost in the mountains', tracing a mesmerizing journey before reaching the mountain pass -- sorry, I mean the hole. I involuntarily let out a moan as it got in, my whole body now throbbing. I heard him smile as he pulled me back, impaling me as I fell on his lap, making me moan harder.

He smiled in silence as he started thrusting hard from below, every move, every shift in posture making me more and more light-headed, until everything faded and there was only his eyes, his soft smile, looking at me in the darkness. "You love this, don't you?"

… my word brain still wasn't working so I simply nodded.

He hugged me, hard, almost taking my breath away. … He wasn't one to say the magic words, but there was no need. We both knew.

Still lost in the middle of the sea, I carelessly put on the new pants that he offered me before leaving the car and going inside the house. We were both too tired for anything else but sleep, so we got straight into bed, where he spooned me to sleep.
 

- - -

 
(Next day, early morning)

The phone only got me into a slumber, but Andrei's curses in Russian jolted me awake. This was bad.

He finally hung up and looked at me. "A new day of work dawns, my boy. Come on, let's move, this is urgent."

Tools

Tokyo's outskirts, Kogu's apartment, early morning, a few days after.

Kogu was still in bed when I got in. Her first reaction was to reach for her sword -- the fancy new Katana Andrei had… acquired for her a few days ago, but she stopped midway when she saw it was just me. "What are you doing here."

I shrugged. "Thought I'd check in on you, you know, see if you're doing alright."

She glared at me. "You should not be here."

"Don't worry, nobody saw me on the way in. So, nobody else found you yet?"

Kogu shook her head in silence.

"See? Told you you'd be alright." Andrei had made sure the authorities moved on, after all. I sat by her side -- she had already shifted into a sitting position. "So, anyway, I brought you a target."

She looked at me, a hint of surprise showing in her almost black eyes.

"But first, this is how we do things." I handed her a phone. "It will only unlock with BOTH your face, fingerprint, and password." I dug for the password on my own phone and showed it to her. "Will you remember it?"

"That's an easy one."

"Good. Now, unlock it, and I'll send you your first target."

- - -

Her eyes darted to meet mine. Silence.

I waited. We knew she wouldn't be happy about having to kill the blacksmith, but she was a tool, a weapon. Tools can't afford to have feelings, or they won't serve their purpose. … Damn, Andrei is so good at bullshit.

"The Master," she said, almost to herself. Then silence.

I nodded slightly.

She broke the silence, her eyes still locked on mine. "Why should I."

"Well, you did say you're a tool. You also said you owe Andrei."

She looked down, visibly agitated. "I can't. The Master Blacksmith -- he's… a friend."

"Weapons can't afford to have friends."

"You wouldn't understand."

I smiled. "It's not my job to understand, I'm just the messenger here."

On a second, she drew one of her short swords and placed the tip against my throat. "Well, you know what they say. Killing the messenger can send a powerful message." Too slow.

I looked into her gleaming eyes. She was a weapon indeed. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"You can't ask me to kill the Master. Now leave. Before I kill you."

I got on my feet and raised my hands, and took a couple steps back towards the door. "Yes, I'll leave now." I grabbed the long sword I'd left beside it and threw it to her. "Here's the first part of your payment." A katana from our metalworks division, much better than anything the blacksmith could do, despite him being … probably the best in the whole country. … Thus why Andrei wanted him dead. Business. "You have 24 hours to fulfill the contract," I said, turning around and opening the door to the communal hallway.

The sword stabbed the doorframe, mere inches away from my head. "NO! Just leave and take your goddamned sword!"

I turned around to find her ready for battle -- her two short swords in her hands, her whole body screaming for blood. I pulled my gun and pointed it at her chest. "You're nowhere near fast enough, we already showed you that. Put those down."

She sighed as she lowered her hands, apparently in defeat -- but she was an open book to read. I could only smile as she pulled a gun from under the bed and pointed it at me. "LEAVE!! Or I swear I'll kill you!"

"You're welcome to try. But mind the consequences."

Her eyes locked on my own. Bad move. That's how there's no way in hell you're hitting me.

I smiled as she pulled the trigger, ducking right in time, tackling her before she could take another shot, sending her gun flying to a corner. My face now inches from hers, I couldn't help smiling again as I choked her. "Told you."

- - -

I had to work fast, I had a couple minutes at most 'till she woke up. I didn't need half of it, a quick tourniquet and a shot of anesthetic later, and I had… enough time to actually work on her. My orders were clear: we need to trust her -- one way or another.

Not five minutes later, the ring was in place, tightly wrapped around her spine, and I was stitching shut the hole in her lower back, when she shifted a bit, her hand trying to figure out what was happening on her back.

"Don't move," I told her, "sewing skin isn't easy if you shift around."

Kogu stood still for a few more moments as I finished, and then turned around to meet my eyes, silence and confusion filling the air.

"Well, you tried to kill me, so you left me no choice. Andrei's orders are crystal clear -- make sure we can trust her. … So I had to put you a ring." I couldn't help smiling as her eyes glanced at her hands. "Oh, no. Not that kind. Feel your back yet?"

She nodded.

"Alright, let's test it. Andrei, can you hear me?"

A familiar voice greeted me from my comms chip. "Yes." … It was the middle of the night in Moscow, but the man didn't seem to ever sleep.

"She's got a ring, it's in the DB already. We need to test it so she knows how it works. Turn it on."

… How do you hear a smile? A glint in someone's eyes -- when that someone is literally on the other side of the world? … I still swear the man is the devil himself. "Of course."

Seconds later, Kogu's screams pierced the silence.

I covered her mouth with my hand as I realized the apartment was most probably not sound-proofed.

Tears started flooding her eyes as she tried to fight it, but the mere pain from the ring prevented her from doing anything. Then, silence.

Andrei's voice beamed again, this time from both our comms chips at the same time. "You think that hurts, little tool?" He laughed hard. "That's not even close to painful. It's a 3/10 on power scale alone. You should also know that full power will knock you out."

She managed to stop her silent sobs for a moment. "I… I can't kill the ma-- the blacksmith. You don't understand. I can't."

I looked at her, understanding. "Let me guess, he's not just a blacksmith, is he? He's your swordmaster."

Kogu looked at me. HOW did I know?

I smiled as Andrei's voice answered her thoughts. "Lover too, it seems. Too bad you need to prove your loyalty to ME, hm?"

Screams again as he flipped the switch. I did what I could to contain the noise, but I wasn't having much success.

Then silence again, broken by Andrei's soft voice. "Gag her."

I searched the case, but the only thing that could do was tape. So, as gently as I could, I taped her mouth shut, while Andrei kept giggling over comms.

"Now have fun with her."

I almost froze in place. … Okay. What was I expecting? EVERYTHING is ALWAYS a test with him. So why would this be different? I sighed before addressing him. "Andrei, can we… talk for a moment?"

"Sure."

Silence filled the air as I left the tiny apartment, closed the door behind me, and sat on the stairwell. "You know…"

His voice was now cold as ice. "Sasha, what are your orders."

"…To make sure she cooperates. Look, I'll… I will do anything needed -- no, anything you want. But -- hear me. This is going nowhere. This… is history repeating itself."

A hint of a smile. "She's a tool. And a tool HAS to serve its purpose. If she fights back, then we need to hit harder. Break her."

I had to swallow. "Alright."

Now he was full-on grinning. "Break her, Sasha. Tear her apart so we can rebuild her into something useful. Tools can't afford to have feelings. Your job is to teach her that lesson. … So, make me proud, will you?"

I nodded in silence before realizing there were no cameras, so I quietly said yes before getting back on my feet. A test. As Always. … Make him proud. I smiled to myself as I opened the door again.

- - -

Kogu was curled into a ball in her bed, sobbing with her whole soul, the makeshift gag removed leaving her snow-white skin painted pink. She didn't move as I sat by her side and gently rested my hand on her shoulder.

"Look, I'm… I'm sorry. … Andrei… well, he doesn't give you much of a choice."

The sobs stopped. "I could help you."

"No. No, you can't, nobody can. There is no way out. You see…" I sighed from my very soul. "You remind me so much of a friend. Always a fight in her, always fire in her eyes." Pause. "I had to kill her -- she too was a weapon with a mind of her own, you see. So I had no choice."

She shifted around to meet my eyes.

Meanwhile, a cheerful voice coughed in my ear.

I coughed back. Please, not now, Andrei. I got back to Kogu. "You see, she was… more than a lover. She was my everything. Then life got in the way, but… I still love her." I kissed the girl passionately.

She joined, a hint of surprise in her otherwise amazing kiss. She looked confused as I pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I…" I closed my eyes. "This all reminds me so much of her, you know. I couldn't help myself, Kogu. I… I still miss her."

She kissed me this time -- for a long time.

"You have the same fire in you. The same wild passion." I took a deep breath. "So… please, let me… feel it once more. Just once. Please."

She understood. And kissed me harder.

My mind was a strange place. The was only one way for this to work, and it was letting it be true. Soon, clothes flew into the corner and we started softly caressing each other. I have to admit, she was really good -- I'd rather not know why. I stopped her as she tried to go down on me. "Don't. I'm…" I sighed again. "Andrei is a … complicated man. He… has me used to… well, take him whole."

She looked at me, almost shocked by my confession.

I looked into her eyes, my soul heavy. I was feeling every bit of it, I was opening my soul for her to see. "There's… there's a strap-on in the case. I know I'm asking a lot, but … it's the only way I'll get anywhere"

She glared at me. "Your friend. She never did that, did she?"

I closed my eyes and nodded in silence. "You'd be surprised."

- - -

My memory gets a bit hazy after that. I remember not being really there, but a few years before, with Kay wildly pounding me as I asked for more. Pain and pleasure indistinguishable from each other. And then, after the hurricane… silence. Back to the present, to a little Japanese girl, exhausted, lying sleepily on my chest. I hugged her. "That really… REALLY reminded me of her," I said, almost in tears.

She hugged me harder.

"Listen, I… I know I'm … complicated but would you mind… being the big spoon? I'm… I'm too used to it. And I could use some cuddle love."

She nodded, and thus we shifted around so she could hug me from behind.

I woke up to a ray of sunshine hitting my eyes. I sighed hard when I saw her -- but I had to leave. I had to leave before she woke up.

- - -

Back in the hotel, the room was cold, damp, dim -- almost reflecting my own mood. I threw myself on top of the bed -- those blankets couldn't warm up my soul, so why bother.

A familiar voice greeted me from the comms chip. "You alright there, Sasha?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's just, this job took a toll on me."

"You didn't do as I asked."

"Sometimes the fastest way to break a heart is from the inside. I swear I'll get results, Andrei."

I heard him smile. "I don't doubt that. But, say, you weren't lying. To her, I mean."

I sighed. "You know well there's only one way to do this -- to fool a lie detector, if you wish. It needs to be the truth."

"I know, my boy, I know."

My mind played yet another trick on me. A pair of warm blue eyes, a hand like a sea caressing me. … I didn't miss her, no. I missed him.

"You alright in there, boy?"

I sighed again, the illusion shattered. "I miss you."

Colombia (12) - Hope's death

Kay was on a cargo train, hiding in a crate, on her way to leave the country. I have to admit, she's always had that fighting spirit.

Most of the rest of us who had anything to do with the fires had been caught and were now starting to rot inside the local overpopulated prison. Some others hadn't been … that lucky, and had been killed on the spot.

The worst part about prison were the TVs. They were nearly everywhere, at full volume, usually showing some random instructional shit, sometimes the news, especially news about those we cared for.

This time they were showing a whole assault squad board a train, led by the Devil himself, his lapdog close behind. Many of us closed their eyes -- that man, HE was the sole reason things were as they were. I couldn't close mine. I knew what was going on -- as did many of us. I guess someone broke down and told them she was going to try to escape on a train. Why had she told us, I'll never know.

The squad soon reached the cargo compartment, all guns pointed to her crate. But no. Hers wouldn't be a quick death. We all knew that. The Devil, with his usual stupid grin, greeted her. "I know you're there, Kay. Come out, let's talk, shall we?"

We heard her curse --comms had long since been restored-- and then laugh as the crate's lid opened and she got on her feet. "Oh, wow, didn't think you'd come to kill me yourself. You make me blush, boss."

He slapped her at full force, causing her to fall sideways. "Name's Andrei."

Not bothering to get up, she laughed. "Sure, boss. Sure."

He sighed. He couldn't win that one battle apparently.

Sasha also sighed. "You brought this on yourself, you know."

She couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, my little boy finally grew up, huh? Well, you see, you didn't manage to kill me last time. So I guess you're back to try again, huh? …please, make sure you don’t' fail again. I hate being a ghost, really."

Sasha smiled as he crouched by her side. "You know. All this time, I've missed you. I've had my bouts of deep regret. … You were everything for me back then Kay."

She looked at him, still smiling. "But now you got him, who's even worse than me, so everything's alright! Come on, get it over with. I don't like being about to die, you know. I'd rather be dead already."

Sasha kissed her passionately, then paused for a moment. "But… yes. This time has also made me realize I made the right choice. … you know, I'd say I'm sorry, but I would be lying."

They both looked at each other's eyes as Sasha pulled a knife and placed the edge softly against her throat.

Kay smiled at him. She could have stopped him, but what for. No. This was it. "I know, Sandy. I know."

He smiled back at her, and with a quick movement, slit her throat open, so deep that the knife got caught in her spine. He just kept slicing at it 'till the whole head was separated from the body, then he sighed. "I won't fail this time, that's for sure."

Prison Showers

Sasha entered the prison shower room. There, tied to a bench, was the aftermath of a glorious battle. Will against reality. Reality being five big thugs known for brutally raping anything they could get away with. Will being a poor idiot, too stubborn to realize willpower doesn't get you anywhere when you're against such a Reality.

And that had not even been the first assault. Before Big D and his guys, all the prison guards who worked for me had also had fun with our poor guy. They were physically nicer than the thugs. But then, physical pain is only a part of the game – playing with their minds tends to get you so much further.

Sasha had to play nice now. Let the guy catch his breath. If only for a moment, before the next assault started. He gently untied the knots and let the guy free. "Hey. Hey man. You okay?" You could hear the tenderness in his voice. He was such a great actor.

Mr. Will stopped whimpering to look up at Sasha, taking his kindness for more nasty teasing. "Do I look okay to you?" He let out a whimpering sigh, maybe realizing his animosity wouldn't get him anywhere. "I'm anything but okay."

Sasha ignored it and proceeded to carry him to one of the shower stalls. "Hey. Some warm water may help you. Let me try to help, yes?"

They both sat under the streaming water, the poor idiot still whimpering. Sasha fell silent for a moment, letting the guy process – to some extent – what had just happened. "It's over now. Just breath, okay? … I'll take you to the infirmary later so they can check on you, make sure you're at least physically okay. But first you have to calm down, you know."

The guy sat in silence. The water from the shower washing away both memories and tears. Except those memories were the kind that will never ever wash away. I had made sure of that.

"Anyway," Sasha continued after a long pause, "lemme give you some advice, okay? You can't win this war. You can't win against Andrei. That's how it is. You're getting hurt for nothing."

The man's attitude changed. Will was back into the battle, with renewed strength. "I won't. I… I can't, no matter what."

Sasha sighed hard. "You're a stubborn one, huh? Look, I know you think you can take this. But you can't. Let me tell you. I've seen him do worse. And he'll do it. He always does that – literally whatever it takes to get results. There's no way in hell you can stand against him."

The guy looked at Sasha. "Why are you doing this. You're with him, stop messing with my mind." He tried to get up, but he was too beaten up for it. So he sat again, eyes closed. "No matter how you ask, no matter what you do, I won't."

Sasha got up, ready to leave. "There's a reason so many people swear he's the devil himself, you know." Soaked to the bone, he left the showers to met me in the observation room. "He's too stubborn, Andrei. He won't do it."

I didn't bother trying to hide the smile creeping into my lips. "Not yet."

- - -

A while later, we were back in the shower room. Sasha carrying the ghost of another man, one that had been through one too many days in hell – in this prison. He had no voice other than to say "please, please, no", in a barely audible whisper. … The target. Another idiot of a journalist who had though publishing classified files was a good idea. He had been charged with treason and sent here. Now that his minimum serving time was over, some human rights groups were campaigning for his liberation. I was going to make sure that didn't happen – loudly. Namely, he couldn't be released if he was dead.

Sasha sat him on another bench, while I grabbed Mr. Will and tossed him against the other guy. "Look what I brought you."

His voice betrayed him – his will was starting to falter yet again. "I – I swear I won't, no matter what you do."

I almost laughed out loud. "Oh, yeah. Right. You're too stubborn, aren't you?" I handed him a knife. "Spare yourself of this hell, man. Kill him already. Just cut his throat open. It will only take a few seconds."

"NO!! No, I will not!!" His eyes locked in the knife as if it was a venomous snake trying to bite him. To spread its poison through his veins, tainting his very soul. … And to a point, it would. Not the tool by itself, but the decision to put it to use.

I knelt by his side, the poor idiot holding to the bench like it was a life-saving float. I left the knife in front of him before looking into his eyes. My hand absentmindedly grabbed his shoulder. "…Do you think you had a bad day today, huh? Well, we have time. We can repeat it as often as you want. The guys will be really happy to hear that you're so much into this shit." I got a little closer. My hand randomly tracing the huge X-shaped wound that was still lightly bleeding. "Ten units of serum twice a day, morning and evening. That's like, five times what you got today. Then, the guards will come, and then Big D and his friends. Every day. Until you change your mind."

"Go to hell." He mumbled between his teeth, probably louder than he had intended.

"Oh, but we're already in hell, my friend. Ask him." I pointed to the ghost with my head. "What's this if not hell itself? What could be worse than day after day after day of what you've gone through? Huh? … Let me tell you. Yes, I can indeed make it worse." I grabbed the knife. "Have you heard? It's an old Asian method, or maybe from the old Inquisition, I can't really remember. They called it the death by a thousand cuts." I let the knife rest lightly over his forearm. "See, I can cut all the shit I want, and as long as I don't let you lose too much blood, you'll survive. … Eventually, you'll die of blood loss, obviously. But it can take a REALLY long time." I let the knife slice through his arm, leaving behind a long, thin gash.

His scream echoed in the tiled room.

"And you think that's the worst? … Oh, no. Not at all. Skin cuts aren't that bad, actually. It's when you start with pieces that it gets nasty." I looked up at Sasha. "Show our friend, will you?"

Sasha could have been a robot. He drew a knife, forcefully grabbed the ghost's hand, and sliced one of his fingerprints off. The poor man couldn't even scream anymore, just started sobbing almost silently.

I gently smiled at him. "Sasha, I meant the whole tip, you know."

His voice was cool, yet almost velvety. "I thought we had the time to do it bit by bit." … Whoa, boy. Yeah, we do. I nodded at him to keep going on. ... He peeled the nail next. Then sliced the flesh under it, this time really slowly. And finally dug through the joint to pop up all that was left - a tiny bone.

All the time, our ghost was just crying in silence. Knowing all too well that trying to stop it was not just useless, but even counterproductive. Cooperating was always the best option – even under these circumstances.

I grabbed Mr. Will by his hair and made him look at me again. He had a trail of vomit running down his chin, up to a puddle by his side. Thank god he was on an empty stomach, else it would have stunk really bad.

"Look at me, you idiot."

"I won't fucking kill an innocent man, I swear."

"… You can swear all you want. You'll both share the same fate. Piece after piece. Until you're both lying dead on a pool of your own blood."

"I WON'T!"

"Not even to save him from hell, huh? … Even though his fate is written. Well, I can keep raising the stakes. Make it even worse. A piece every hour. First one will be bad enough. But think, you'll have a whole hour to think about the next one. And after that, another hour to keep thinking about all the blood there is, and about how much it hurts, and about whether it's a sign of infection. … Oh, I'll make sure it indeed is, just to add fuel to the fire, you know." I grabbed the knife again and sliced his pinkie's fingerprint.

My guess is he tried to scream something like "I fucking won't you fucking bastard", but it was completely unintelligible.

I couldn't help smiling. "And what do you think happens after the fingers are gone, huh?" I held his hand to the harsh light. "We'll have to move to the next bones." I let the knife trace them along the back of his hand. "These are tricky, man. But don't worry, I have more than enough experience to do it right."

He looked at me like he'd finally seen the devil. He was on the very edge, a step further and he'd finally break.

"… And then? … I've never gotten past there, you know. … I don't even know how you'll grab a knife if you have no hands. Guess we can tape it to your wrist. That is, until your arms are also gone, bit by bit. Or did you think you get to have one big bone cut off at a time? … Nah. Too much blood loss. Too fast."

One more step…

"Oh, and silly me. I was forgetting about the serum. They didn't have that in the old ages, but now we do. A unit every hour. Soon, that alone will be too damn much to handle. Add the hourly cut. … Told you we're in hell."

It was Sasha's turn to deliver the last blow. "Or you can skip all that, spare not only yourself but also an innocent man from all that pain. All it takes is a few seconds. A quick slash. … Save yourself, man. Save him. There's no winning against the devil."

Mr. Will finally took the knife.

The Ball (13) - Blood

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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."

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.

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 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?

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.