If I didn’t, I’d be staring down death’s door. All I saw was failure. Because I had choked before, and in a desperate attempt for redemption, I couldn’t let the need to be seen in high regard drive my decision. I took the pristinely folded paper from my back pocket and stared at it for longer than I should have before going back inside for another drink. I needed to drown my thoughts, and this was the shit I had to think about and then wash away.
* * *
Walking into the small building, I checked for lurkers. There seemed to only be one way inside. When I entered the first room, the lights flickered on, illuminating the space. I’d died and gone to a torturer’s dreamland. On the adjacent wall, pleasure tools lined the metal racks. Crops, whips, chains, and even dildos were spread out in front for all to see. The next wall held blades, knives, and sharp items meant to draw blood. I ran my fingers over the cool metal, curious about the weight of each. On the third wall, I noticed belts, collars, spikes, gags, and tools used to extract confessions from the unwilling. The last one held guns and rifles, quick-kill weapons needed in a flash. They decorated the middle of the room with leather tables, chairs, and hooks hanging from the ceiling.
I licked my fangs in delight. This room was a party waiting to happen, and all it needed were the guests. Everything was white, black, and metal. I would make sure I spilled blood and it wouldn't stay that way.
“Where is he?” I turned in circles, not knowing where she was located.
“You’ll get that information soon enough. What’s your answer?” She still hadn’t shown herself.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I exclaimed, tired of this back-and-forth game.
“You are. I’m not sure that you understand the risks. You’ll either win or lose. There aren’t any gray areas.” Where was she?
“I know,” I stated, trying to locate the figure in the room.
“Do you? Because I can smell your fear from here. You’ll fail, you know that, right?” Her voice surrounded me, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.
Would I?
“There’s no honor in death.”
Says who? I turned in a circle, waiting for her to appear, not wanting to get surprised by where she hid.
“As luck has it, he’s fallen into our graces. All you have to do is get the information from him. You can manage that, right?” She paused. “I don’t know what she sees in you.”
I was going to answer, but the lights went out as black-clothed figures entered the room. They rushed toward me, hitting me with weapons and fists. Taking a deep breath, I gathered both my strength and bravado because even if I died this night, I’d do it with the honor they accused me of not having. I thought I was doing well. Landing blows and fighting back, I’d even stolen a weapon. But then something hard crashed down on the back of my head, making me stagger forward, losing my balance. Then I crashed to the ground where the violence against my body continued.
ZENDAYA
Her mouth moved. She was speaking, but I didn’t recognize the girl. I couldn't make out anything she was saying because her voice was muffled, as if one or both of us were underwater. She waved her hands, trying to pull my attention toward her as if she was trying to get me to see her, which seemed ridiculous. My eyes were wide open, and I could see every movement her body was making, from the movement of her lips to the flailing of her arms. She was trying to pull my attention to her.
She started vibrant and full of energy, but the harder she worked to gain my attention, the more defeated she appeared. The darkness pushed the edge of my sight, making her grow distant. My focus turned inward until I no longer could see. Just before the darkness completely took over my vision, and it pulled me from one universe to the next, a frustrated scream rang out.
I jumped up, ready to fight the clothed figures, only to see them gone. Standing alone in the middle of the room, the silence was deafening. Looking around the empty room made me realize I was alone. The room was undisturbed, apart from the droplets of blood where I once lay. It’s like I hallucinated the beating I just took.
Groaning in agony, the stiffness taking over my body, my muscles protesting. I checked to ensure nothing was broken by moving my limbs. Everything seemed intact. The aches and stiffness are just from the assault. My face felt like it had swollen to triple its size, and as I raised my hand to touch the pain in my lip, I hissed. Pulling my hand away, the streak of blood on my finger from where it split. A knock at the door draws my attention to the wooden door.
Grabbing a paddle from the wall. A weapon just in case the figures decide to come back and finish me. I make my way to the door and open it with the key that is hanging from the handle. Four of them from earlier enter, dragging a man behind them. They blindfolded and beat him, much like they did to me. Placing the key into my pocket, I watched as they shuffled to the middle of the room and dropped him.
“Who is he?” I asked, as they lifted him from the floor and placed him on the hooks attached to the ceiling.
“Your target.” One of them states before walking out of the room.
Another clothed figure slaps two vials of liquid in my hand. “It’ll knock him out.” Then they left. The door closes with a heavy bang, locking out the rest of the world and leaving me with an unarmed man.
Moving closer to him, I focused on his thoughts. A skill I had that allowed me to tap into the minds of others. I had to be close to the person to use it and if their mind was clear enough, I could control their thoughts.
“Where the fuck am I?” His thoughts were both disoriented and confused him.
I walked over to the wall and grabbed a knife. Testing the weight of it in my hand, tossing it back and forth, from right to left, the weight feeling nice in my grip. Deadly. Someone had sharpened the blade recently when I lifted it to his neck, he stiffened. Cutting away all the layers that he wore. Taking my time not to mark his pretty skin. Dark as oak wood but much more delicate, it would be a shame when I had to tarnish it.
He hung completely naked and vulnerable. I paced around him. Strong broad shoulders that narrowed his body at the waist. His butt was round and full, firm but soft enough that my teeth would sink in nicely. His legs were muscular and darker than his face. A deeper brown trailed between his legs. As I moved in front of him, the wide space of his chest enticed my eyes to travel the trail down to his stomach. His flattened abdomen, ribbed from whatever his daily regime entailed, led down to his… I tilted my head, noting how endowed this man was. The thickness between his legs wasn't erect, yet he had to be at least nine inches long. His girth was choke worthy and demanded applause. I couldn't help but wonder what he would look like if he was at his full potential.
Scars decorated his skin as if they were stories that held badges of honor. Proof that he’d survived battles that belonged to only him. This man was no stranger to war or fighting. They too were perfect and proof that he could survive and do what it took to come out on top. A fact that I needed to remember. He was the enemy. The queen deemed it so.
“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me, or are you going to tell me who you are?”