Page 4 of Voracious

Such a stupid word to describe the depravity of what they do. Kid fuckers, molestation, rapists convey it better. Pedophile doesn’t, phile means to love. These sick cunts don’t love children. They love causing them pain. Especially Dr. Langston, but his screams are mine now and I look down at the sandwich in my hand. There’s still blood around my nails. Inconsiderate bastard. There’s a scratch on my hand too.

Sasha finally finds her voice and pushes the plate away as she stares at my hand.

“I know it’s you, I’ll tell Yulia.”

Rolling my eyes at her attitude, I take her sandwich and swing my feet as I count the minutes.

“How would I have gotten in the room?”

The dumb idiot shuts up. There’s still no ‘thank you for stopping me being raped’ the ungrateful brat. She keeps staring at me, so I do it back as I eat her sandwich. Fucking seeds. I should have killed him just for that, he’s ruined my sandwiches, the asshole.

When I’ve finished my food, I check the time again to make sure it’s right. It’s been four hours and Dr. Langston’s body will start smelling soon. It’s too quiet, Yulia sent her usual message, but the car should have been here by now. I take all the knives out and hide them under my clothes. The other girls have to wear dresses, their hair and faces clean and shiny. My uniform is militant and gives me enough room to hide things.

Keeping a knife in my hand, I flick it at Sasha and instruct, “Up, we’re leaving.”

There’s something in my gut telling me to run, that this is my chance. They’ve forgotten about me. But Sasha is Yulia’s favorite, since she likes this shit. Her brain has been successfullywarped to believe she enjoys it and finds some fucked up benefit to being raped by dirty old fucks who send their wives away to a resort for a week so they can invite children over.

Staying a step behind her, I look out of each window we pass. The property is set at least ten miles away from anyone else and there’s no sound of tires coming down the lane. Too quiet means that the plans have changed. Like the days Marlo turns up angrier than ever and needs the release of punishing me instead of fucking Yulia.

Sasha keeps walking forward while that gut feeling gets more urgent, making me stay back. She has one foot out of the door when the air whistles and she’s roughly pushed back. Her head hits the marble with a crack, but I don’t go to her. She’s already dead, a hole in her head and blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Am I fuck staying here to join her? She was a cunt anyway and she bullied Nina after crowning herself as queen of the child prostitutes.

My body moves on some instinct to survive, and I drop low, rushing to the back of the house. I fucking hate rich people, they all have huge fucking houses with big entrances. Sasha’s lifeless body is making it even more difficult as her blood flows towards me, making my hands slip. For fuck’s sake, she always helped them in life and now she’s doing it in death as bullets fly through the open door. The wood chips, splinters flying in every direction. The guards know not to shatter the glass since that leaves more evidence and it takes longer to replace.

My bicep burns as a bullet grazes my skin and I’m going to kill everyone. Yulia will be the most satisfying. I’ll make her watch what I’m going to do while I practice on the others, every fucking guard and Marlo. I’ll take his tongue, see if I can rip the full muscle out and examine the anatomy.

Getting to the side door that leads into the garage, I go through each vehicle searching for keys without getting up fromthe floor. I’m not supposed to know how to drive but one of the clients liked having mature conversations when he was done robbing innocence. My lips tip up, finding the keys to Dr. Langston’s prized Bentley, the dead cunt won’t have a use for it anymore and it’s always looked comfortable.

My entire body aches as I pull the now dirty Bentley up outside the safe house in the countryside of Osmotherley. The cars that should be parked at the front are missing and the entire lane is derelict, but there were three cars when I left in the morning. None of the lights are on and my anger is warm against the cold air as I get out of the car. The house is silent as I open the door. It’s not uncommon after the clients have visited but there’s nothing at all to indicate there’s life inside. No breathing or the sound of money being counted. Each room in the manor house is empty and Nina’s things are missing when I go to the room she was staying in. That fucking cunt took her.

Yulia answers on the fourth ring and there’s no sound in the background as though she’s sat in a chamber. I can’t hide my anger and ask, “Where are you?”

She’s going to die, we both know it, but the little rat is hiding. The undercurrent of fear in her voice is weird and has me on alert.

“You can hunt me or search for Nina, she’s been sold as a live in.”

The clever fucking bitch, she knew all this fucking time. She let me kill to bide time for her plan.

Ending the call now that she’s useless, I pull every piece of information I’d collected over the years out of my head. There are only five buyers for live ins from Yulia, they come every threeyears when the girls have outgrown their taste. Relief washes over me at the reminder I carry my papers with me, and I leave the phone on the floor so the stupid bitch can’t track me.

I’ll start in England and work my way through each country. None of the clients were allowed to be Russian, some bullshit rule Marlo and Yulia created, thinking it would keep the image of care intact when they use the properties they have there. But I’ll still search every house there until I find her. I have to find her, to make sure she smiles and no one else hurts her. Then, I’ll find her mama and kill her for letting people take her daughter.

ONE

Dima

Icould shoot Ana in the back of the head right now and make it look like an accident. Stasya narrows her eyes at me in warning as though she’s aware of what I’m thinking. So, I click the safety back on while the infuriating shit beats a dead man, and use my voice to get her to stop, which is less satisfying.

“He’s dead now.”

She’s too violent, which says a lot when I’m the person possessing that thought.And she’s fucking strange. Proving exactly how fucked up she is, Ana turns and only the whites of her eyes and teeth are visible, the rest of her face is smeared in blood. Her bleached hair is tinged red, and her eyes freak me the fuck out. I blink to make sure I’m seeing correctly, and they go back to the dark brown, but for a split second there was a blue crescent. It keeps happening, in all the years she’s been out on my group there’ll be little instances where I could bet my life on that icy curve but then I blink, and it’s gone.

Stasya goes to help her clean up, or to put a sticker on her psycho chart, as a familiar weight lands on my back. Katya bands her forearm against my throat and I move my head pre-emptively as her lips touch my cheek.

“Happy birthday, big brother.”

I grumble something that sounds like thanks when I’m not grateful at the reminder of being an old fuck and she jumps down.She looks from me to the dead man and scrunches her nose up before she shakes her head with a sigh. I know that sigh, it means she wants me to do something. Staring straight ahead because I can never say no to her, she does it again. My sister looks like our mother, each day she gets closer to an age where she will have outlived her.

Unhappy with my avoidance tactic, she grabs my arm and starts pulling on it until we’re at the back of the warehouse. She does that fucking sigh again and her face goes all sad. The one she’d get when her teddy would rip and its stuffing would come out because she’d use it to fight with Tali.

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