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*Abduction: Awakening VI

The door knob felt heavy in my hand as I turned it. It opened with little resistance, though I briefly entertained the suspicion that she might know it was me entering, and would put up some meager effort at resistance. Paranoia had become a part of my life, though I’m not sure when it was that it happened.

She hadn’t turned to acknowledge my presence, but instead was reading one of the 30 or so books I had selected for her before her arrival. Each step had been planned, down to the coloring of the room which I had requested changed at great personal expense. Redecorating someone else’s house was a regrettable, but necessary expense. The people that owned the house were about mohair and plastic — a far cry from my house with its cool marble and distinctly Italian influence. A nod to heritage, I’d like to tell people, in truth it was a setting that felt ‘right.’

I walked to the bar and poured myself a glass of Disaronno. When the cubes hit the glass, she turned and looked up. The book fell from her suddenly limp fingers, and she scrambled to stand.

‘Marco.’ She said my name breathlessly, her eyes fixed upon me, wary and alert. I brought the glass to my lips, sliding my gaze along her body before I reached her face. The first indication something was wrong was the smell; it reached my nose before a drop had touched my mouth. I pinned her with a look and she stiffened, stepping away from me as if we didn’t have an entire room of air dividing us.

I placed the glass on the bar and dipped two fingers in, rubbing them together as I brought them back to my nostrils. ‘Think you’re clever,’ My voice was flat as I noted the fine grain the liquid contained. ‘or perhaps, that I am stupid?’ I wiped my fingers off on a towel and reached for, and poured out, the contents of the bottle. ‘Are they all this way?’

Her lips thinned. ‘Just the ones you drink.’ She said it quietly, her fingers worrying the fabric of her shirt.

I stared at her, hard. ‘Fresh prescription?’ I asked it softly, almost to myself, but still she nodded. I mentally made note to ‘address’ it with Lucio. I rinsed out the glass and settled it upside down on a towel. I faced her. ‘Out of curiosity, after you’d killed me, what was your next step? Open the door and leave?’

‘It was an out, Marco. Do you blame me?’ She said it tightly, her arms wrapped around her body in a hug. ‘I was only trying to put you to sleep.’

I walked closer to where she stood, but she didn’t retreat again. I unbuttoned my jacket, slid it down my arms, and neatly arranged it across the caramel-colored leather of the sofa. I leaned against it, studied her for a moment and then unfastened my cuff links. ‘Sleep, hm?’

‘Sleep.’

‘Come here.’

‘What?’ She looked surprised, her face the picture of feminine confusion. I studied her expression, the knitted line of her brows, the parted surprise lingering on her mouth.

‘Come here.’ I repeated, allowing the terse note to reflect in those two words. She didn’t reply; she didn’t move, but stared at me as if I had grown another head. Still I waited, unwilling too, in this display of will, to relinquish and retrieve her. I wanted her to come to me purely out of the fear of what I might do if she did not comply. It was a mind trick, defeated them long before I ever lifted a finger. In truth, her downfall had already been written in my head, before she ever laid an eye upon me.

I cracked my knuckles, allowed the mask to slide into place. She wet her lips and her eyes darted around the room, lingered briefly on the locked door behind my right shoulder before they returned to mine. She blinked and I saw the moisture in them when she opened them again. I noticed the fine tremble that reverberated through her body. Such details were important, enhanced the fine scent of fear that laced the air.

She startled violently when I refined my position, still leaning against the sofa. I tilted one eyebrow, still waiting her response. She moved quickly then, but only scrambled to the soft looking club chair about 6 feet away - decidedly out of arm’s reach. I digested that mixture of acquiescence and rebellion, but rejected it. ‘Come. Here.’ I said again and pointed to the floor directly in front of me.

She shook her head rapidly and shrank further back into the chair, her legs drawn in tightly, wrapped neatly in the fold of her arms. ‘No. No, Marco.’

‘I don’t believe the request, or the circumstance in which you find yourself, affords you the opportunity to be bold.’

She opened her mouth to speak, but I never heard any words. The expression, and her body, froze when I took the choice from her and moved. I pulled her up from the chair with a rough movement, my fingers digging violently into her arms. She screamed then, and her body jack-knifed in an effort to escape. Her dark hair swung violently as she tried to twist her way out of my hold.

‘Annerire.’ I said her name, trying to permeate the fear over taking her. She still clawed at my arms trying to loosen my grip. I shook her violently, until she was still. Her head rolled back on her shoulders, and she was like a limp doll in my arms.

‘Annerire.’ She lifted her head and stared at me.

And then she bit me.

Posted in Abduction: Awakening on November 10th, 2007 by Daemon | | No Comments »

*Abduction: Awakening V

The irony that found me shaving, wasn’t lost upon me. It was my ritual - the ablutions I took more out of habit than anything else. My face was so often the last thing people saw, if nothing else, I considered it a courtesy. It was all business, and I didn’t do business with dirty hands. Hm. Bad choice of words.

I wet the blade and tapped it on the side of the sink. I shut the water off and carefully arranged each item in neat little rows, just as I had the day before. I needed a haircut. And, standing there, as I resisted the urge to take the hour long trip into the nearest town, I knew I was stalling.

I walked back into my bedroom, pulled on a shirt and fastened the cuffs, all while trying to digest whatever was keeping me from walking in there. I was saving her, even if she didn’t know it - couldn’t know it just yet. I wasn’t angry, which was a change from how I usually approached these things. Everyone else had deserved it. Everyone else took steps down the path that led them to meet me. Annerire was just stupid enough to fall for the wrong guy.

I’d known her for as long as I can remember, but never looked at her as any more than a pest. She followed Dante around like he had hung the moon and in spite of my brother’s intelligence, I doubted at 8 he could have done so. When I came back to save Dante what was left of his childhood, she wasn’t around. I never asked. I never questioned, because more often than not, the answer was something I wished I could unlearn. Some things were truly better left to the imagination - or to simply not thinking about.

Anne had simply moved away, I later learned, watching Dante pen a letter to her some time later. I’d raised my brother like any parent. I had worried about him. Put him on restriction when he came home late - that one time. I prayed every day that he would not become like me. Be consumed like I had been. God answered those prayers.

Rizzone had been reluctant to see me, the ‘bastard spawn’ of his sister. He never acknowledged the marriage that had once been, even when I came across the documents proving it was so. I was always Dean’s son - mixed blood, both sides bad. It was ignorance, and blind need that kept me coming to him. I didn’t know at the time why he bothered with me, someone who, so clearly, wasn’t ‘enough’ and came from another family’s gene pool. I think now, it was just so he could turn me into what I was. A killer. Someone he could cut loose if things went badly.

They never had. I’ve had my scraps with the Feds, sure, but nothing life long - and I’d never been to jail. He couldn’t say the same.

I tucked my shirt in, slid a belt through the loops in my pants, slipped my feet into a 900 dollar pair of custom loafers and I was done. I reminded myself, as I made the final adjustments to my suit, slid my arms into the lined material, that she had left me. She had left me. She had left me.

And slowly, the anger began to churn in my stomach. The killer had awakened.

Posted in Abduction: Awakening on October 9th, 2007 by Daemon | | 1 Comment »

*Abduction: Awakening IV

I opened my eyes, and before my vision had adjusted to take in the pale, creamy swirls of the ceiling above me - I had thought of her. I rubbed the heels of my palms over my eyes, and rolled over to look at my watch. It took me a second to register the date. Sunday, just after 6 in the morning.

I needed to bruise her today. The worst of it would come tomorrow, when Tony, a spy for my uncle, would come to see the progress made. With bruises, however, the worst of it took time to show. Today, she’d have to be marked.

I’d left her alone for a few days, resigned to watching her through the cameras I’d installed in the room about a week before her arrival. She was docile, but I suspected that was only because the person bringing in the food was not me — and armed. She wasn’t behaving as I’d anticipated, but then, she never had.

I rolled out of bed, and walked to the bathroom, glimpsing at the monitors. She had covered 4 and 9. The first only showed black, the second one had a fraction of some room detail in the corner. I flicked my gaze to the others, saw her still sleeping in the bed. It was enough to satisfy some part of me.

The light in the bathroom was harsh and hurt my eyes. I frowned, blinking rapidly as my pupils adjusted. Gray hair was the first thing I noticed. It seemed to be a more and more frequent occurrence in the last two years. The burden of the money wasn’t driving my stress, it was having no one else to share it with. Who would have thought I’d be ready to settle down just as it became impossible to do so? Karma wasn’t limited to Buddhists or Hindus then — damaged Catholics were also on the list.

I turned on the hot water in the shower and let it run until the mirror began to fog over. I stared at my reflection until I could no longer see myself, steeled myself for the hot punch of the needles and stepped in. A sound was strangled out of my throat as it assaulted me. I felt the steam slide into my throat and try to choke me.

I knew, somewhere in my mind, that place where my conscience resides, that no amount of hot water, no amount of soap or bleach, would ever be able to wash the blood off of my hands. The part of me that was okay with that, the part that justified my actions as being only a bi-product of their deeds, was killing the rest of me. I feared the day, soon coming, that I looked in the mirror and saw nothing.

Posted in Abduction: Awakening on October 6th, 2007 by Daemon | | 3 Comments »

*Abduction: Awakening III

Her eyes squeezed shut, breaking our brief contact. I turned my back to her and poured some Disaronno in a glass. It was a distraction from the raven-haired girl, woman, who as now struggled to right herself on the bed. I watched her gag, choking back the contents of her throat that spilled forward. Her face was flushed red where it wasn’t hidden behind her hair, or the swath of tape that Lucio placed over her mouth.

I’d untie her once she got past the initial shock of it all, once she allowed her mind to embrace just how screwed she was. And she was, utterly screwed - just as involved now that her name had come up on the damned list Lucio assembled after my brother was killed a few months back. Here I was working for the man, who, no matter what circumstance would have me believe, killed him. Not Lou, Lucio, he was my man, but Joe - Joseph Rizzone.

Information. I doubted Anne had any idea why she was here. While their friendship, strained as it was after our affair, continued, Dante would not have burdened her with this weight. My job now was to make sure she made it off the list alive. Dante. I missed him, painfully, keenly.

I dragged my gaze back to the girl on the bed. She had pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the bed, her legs hanging over the side, bound at ankles and above the knees. Her eyes, dark, stared at me as if she were trying to process the site of me anew. The tape moved where her breath had moistened it and loosened it from her skin.

She was breathing too fast. Her cheeks were flushed. My lips twisted into a humorless smile. ‘You do remember me then..’

I leaned off the bar stool and she jerked back as if the condensing air between us had struck her physically. Tears started to leak out of the corners of her eyes. I never understood this reaction in other people; most of them were killed knowing that their actions had driven them to that conclusion. Anne, however, was allowed those tears.

I moved from the bar and her body stiffened, screaming its unwelcome without any words coming from her mouth. Her eyes were marbles in her head, wide, rolling with the rocking movements her body was making. ‘Calm down, Annerire. You’re making a mess of yourself.’

She didn’t, couldn’t respond, the waves of nausea were a side effect that some people encountered. It was a messy, unfortunate complication. I neared her and she bucked off the bed as if she were in pain, but froze as my hand reached for the tape on her mouth. I smirked at her. ‘You play the victim well.’

That phrase uttered as I ruthlessly separated the tape from her skin. She cried out, coughing, breathing and choking all at the same time – as if her body couldn’t decide if it first needed to be emptied or filled. She gave up, minutes later and coughed up the remains of her stomach before her eyes rolled back and she passed out.

I couldn’t blame her. The eyes she saw me with were as jaded as the ones that peered at me from behind window blinds in the neighborhood, except she knew, first hand, what I had done – could do. I hated that look. Even she had no right to fucking judge me. I did what I had to do to survive.

I was rough when I turned her limp body over, more than I had to be to get at the binds keeping her legs and arms still. Anger rolled through my head, staining my thoughts with retaliation that would kill that look in her eyes. I could empty her out; make her the same hollow, fucking shell.

I pulled a knife out and flicked it open with the practiced ease of a killer. The blade slid under the rope and split it open with barely a sawing motion. I pulled it from her skin. Cut the other ties. In that moment, I wanted to wake her up screaming. My hand tightened on the blade, I saw it a thousand different ways, the blade going into her skin, but didn’t act.

I didn’t act. I gathered the ropes and discarded them in the trash can sitting by the bar. There wasn’t a thing I could do with the comforter until she woke up, and I wasn’t going to risk that happening at this moment. Any doubt I had about the ending of this plan were cemented by the smile I felt on my lips when I remembered her fear.

Oh yea. I was too far gone.

I opened the lid on a bottle of Goose, ignoring the Disaronno, and just brought it to my mouth. I heard a knock on the door before the first drop even touched my lips. I reached for the gun tucked at the center of my back, aimed. ‘Come in.’

Lou’s cautious steps in the door were those of a man used to my greeting. His palms were up. He looked down at the key and I nodded, the gun still pointed at his skull prepared to blow a hole in the back of his head if the need arose. He pocketed the key and turned the lock again before facing me. I lowered the weapon, slowly, and put it behind my back again.

‘He says he’ll do it.’ Lou was casual as he walked towards me. One of the few people close enough to feel safe around me – in spite of the greeting and my guns. I nodded my head at his comment; I hadn’t really expected otherwise. Lou continued, ‘but he wants 4 big ones for the job.’

‘4?’ My eyebrows lifted. ‘Bit much for a little ink.’

‘And he won’t be here until Tuesday – something about us needing him, not the other way around.’

I glanced at the girl on the bed, nodded my head slowly. ‘That’s fine. It’ll look like I’m fucking her up real good.’

‘He’ll want to see.’ Lou pulled out a pack of cigs and took one out, offered on to me. I took it, took the light that came afterwards. A long drag later, I exhaled a cloud of gray smoke. ‘Invite Tony up. He reports back. I’ll give him something to report.’

‘When?’

‘Let’s give her a little time. Monday.’ I picked off a piece of tobacco from my tongue. ‘Yea, Monday.’

He shrugged.

‘Crowne turn out to be what we thought?’

‘Yea, Marco, he’s a real piece of shit.’

Posted in Abduction: Awakening on September 27th, 2007 by Daemon | | 2 Comments »

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