[chapter 8. The Crescent Club]
Trigger Warning: mention of gore and non-consensual acts
"All I want to do is travel around the capital. Moreover, this is my first time here," Selena explained.
"No," grumbled Theodore. Selena resisted the impulse to lash out at him. She had to leave. Her gaze narrowed on the man. If there had not been so many guards and attention on her, she would have left discreetly. But no, Theodore Mariano had arranged for an entire squad to watch her.
"Leave her alone," Liliana said. In betrayal, Theodore looked at his wife. It was not safe for her to leave the house. Not when people were eyeing his daughter like a piece of meat.
Liliana granted her permission to leave. "Bring Garold," she suggested. Selena smiled warmly at her mother. Liliana's spirits rose as she saw her daughter nearing.
Selena smiled inside and turned on her heels, eager to leave.
"I am the head of the household. You're going against my word."
"And I am the lady of the house. Your equal half. My words are as important as yours."
Liliana laughed as she cupped her sulky husband's face in her hands. "If you stop her now, she will only grow apart from us. Accept her, and the girl will begin to accept us," she said, pecking his nose.
"Again," he grunted.
"What?"
"Kiss me again and I'll agree."
Liliana burst out laughing. She rose to her toes and kissed his cheeks with a peppery touch. A big smile crept across his face. "Now go work," she said as she patted his cheek and walked back to the garden, leaving him grinning.
----
"Where are we going, Selena?" Garold asked as he started the car. Finally, the girl had convinced the burly bodyguard to call her name in private. Mariano's rules were aggravating to her. Rules and she never set well.
"It's a body spa, I need to relax my body and have a self-care day," Selena explained as she showed him the GPS location. "It's the self-care day," he said as he drove to the location.
Selena gazed out the window at the bustling metropolis.
The luxury building with the white pristine 'K' logo emerged on their horizon. It was a seven-story building in the heart of the city, with the value and reputation that would make high society drool.
And make them spend money like water.
Selena's eyes grew dim as she scrolled through her phone. Ignoring the voices in her head.
The keys were handed over to the valet by Garold. He doubted her, wondering how she could afford this place. It was a high-end establishment that demanded thousands of dollars per visit. Selena sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Mother gave me a card," she said as she walked into the expensive boutique, flashing him the platinum card. The fresh scent of luxury welcomed them, and the white Victorian decor dazzled their eyes.
"A registration under the name Selena Knight," she said, ignoring Garold's tense body. He jerked when he heard her refer to herself as a Knight rather than a Mariano. His face contorted.
I'm glad the boss isn't here because he would have been hurt and angry. Garold sighed quietly to himself.
Boss, you better grow closer to your daughter, or you will have it hard.
The receptionist gave her a knowing smile. "Please follow me," said the woman in the gray pencil skirt, motioning them to the private floor. Her long nails clanked against the tablet screen.
"As according to your schedule. You will have a complete body massage with aromatic oils and a hair spa for rebonding. Before having a deep conditioning session," she said, listing all the events for today. Garold went into a trance, unaware of what was happening. There were words he heard for the first time.
They entered the fourth floor, where the woman obstructed the muscular man. "Sir, you should come to a stop here," the woman advised. Garold turned to face Selena. "The security here is good. And I'll only be gone for four hours. Garold. There are cameras here; nothing will happen to me," she smiled. Her words made sense, and he was buying into it.
"Well, unless you want to see me half naked," Selena paused as if struck by a realization. "Don't tell me you're a pedophile, Garold," she exclaimed, gasping out.
The man scowled at her. Selena took a step back as if she was afraid of the man.
"Behave yourself, Miss. I'll stay outside," he said as he ran his hand through his blonde hair. "I knew it. You are the best," she winked as she walked into the private room, leaving the guard speechless as he realized he had been duped.
"Ha," his jaw dropped.
----
The woman accompanying Selena became solemn as her smile faded. "Lady," she said, bowing.
In response, Selena hummed, her legs moving toward the table laden with knives, darts, and guns. She took two throwing daggers and a gun and hid them under her clothes.
"The raving red," the woman said as she handed her a beautiful glass bottle containing the eye-catching red color. Selena's lips curled upwards. A red paint laced with enough poison to make an adult faint.
The woman assisted her in applying two coats of polish. "You know the routine. Don't let Garold notice anything amiss," Selena warned subtly. "Yes, Lady," the woman said as she finished applying the paint.
"I'll be back in a few hours. Give Garold some refreshment and keep him engaged," she said as she exited the private room through the back door. And she was out of the building in ten minutes, without catching anyone's attention.
A stunning matte black Harley Davidson stood in front of her. Selena lowered her gaze as she remembered the message.
["The Crescent Club. Tattoo of an eagle."]
Her hand encircled the matching helmet. She got on the Harley, wearing the helmet as her gloved hands coiled over the handle. Her eyes hardened, and she inhaled a large breath.
It was time for revenge.
Selena ignored the stares directed at her. From lechers to those who looked down on her- she overlooked all of them. A girl in this place meant one of two things: she was a whore or a lowlife making her way into the underworld.
Her simple black jacket, white tea, and black jeans with sneakers were enough to make her blend in. She parked her Harley and walked towards the door, blaring music from the inside.
"ID."
The guard dressed in black stopped her. He fixed his gaze on her with one hand on his gun. Selena came to a halt and pulled her white top up to reveal her collarbone and the mark it bore. The guard bowed and allowed her to enter.
Selena carried herself effortlessly. As she walked inside- men called her out, whistled, and slurred. Her jaw clenched.
Her olive mind wandered around the club. Selena could feel hawk-like eyes following her every move and breath; her senses heightened. She wanted to grab her strawberry and slash every eye that looked at her, but she needed to be nimble and patient right now.
She wanted to grab her strawberry and slash every eye that looked at her, but she needed to be nimble and patient right now. One wrong step and it would end up messy.
With each cautious step, her chest heaved up and down. Stranger men looked at her blankly, each seeing her as a threat as she moved deeper into the club. Selena noticed a shift in the environment.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Her steps became heavy, and her thoughts began to race. She cringed as she inhaled secondhand smoke into her lungs. Disgusting.
"Eagle," she said to the server. Her hand was swirling with a bundle of hundreds. The server greedily accepted the money. "Third floor, two right turns," he said as he slipped the thick bundle into his pocket and walked away with the trey.
Selena took the steps while everyone around her was high on alcohol, drugs, or sex. It was just another night at the Crescent Club. Her steps echoed through the silent pathway as the surrounding men stopped to watch Selena walk in.
After seeing the eight men laughing, she pushed the door open. What right did they have to be happy while they were destroying the lives of others?
Their amusement was cut short when they noticed a petite, thin girl who appeared to be underage. The bald man with the eagle tattoo behind his ear put down his beer glass and approached the lovely girl. Selena fist-clenched and reminded herself not to flinch.
"Did you get lost here, kiddo?" He drew like a gentleman. It made her gag.
"She must be a puttana sent by the club, Gab. Use her and then throw her out of the curve," another man responded, eliciting laughter from the audience. (Italian: puttana - whore)
Selena remained silent, but her mind's voice made noises.
Kill them all, a voice said.
No better, torture them all, another voice added.
They hurt you, and you hurt them back- all the voices crooned together.
Selena smiled as she turned her head robotically.
"Yes, sirs. The club sent me to serve you all," her voice was tantalizing enough to drive these muddled men insane. She walked closer to them, watching them gulp and eat her with their eyes.
Her eyes were blank, but she wore an alluring peony smile. Her nails itched as she got closer to the bald man. Selena's red nail dug into his cheek as she trailed it down towards Adam's apple, watching him shudder and his eyes become dazed with lust.
"Won't you let me have some fun with you all, sir?" She purred.
"Yes," he groaned lowly as the men undressed her with their eyes. She was dressed too modestly to be a whore, but lust overcame logic. They wanted her, and she was aware of it.
She giggled and leaned closer to him, and he inhaled her sweet scent with a rumble before gurgling a mouthful of blood as she slashed his neck open.
The men shot up, their eyes wide open and soberer than before. As she leaned back, the curved dagger twirled in her fingers. They aimed their guns at her. Nonchalance on her face.
"Who are you?"
"Would it be too corny to say your death?" she wondered.
The temperature dropped and a dark feeling lurched in the hearts of the eight men in the room—oops, seven men and one dead in the room. Selena's tongue clicked. "I should have used a better punch line. No one of you responded," she pouted, almost disappointed.
"You fucking bitch," yelled a man.
Selena nodded, "Yes, I am a bitch."
"So what?" she asked, looking at the enraged man.
His eyes narrowed in response to the girl's impudent words. He'd make certain to fuck her with some subservience. Yet, this was yet another reason he despised the women here, who thought they could dominate and look down on men.
Women were only good for one thing. Spreading their legs open.
"No one will be able to identify you once I'm done with you," he snarled as he aimed his pistol at her legs. He would immobilize her while his friends had their fun. And then he would enjoy tormenting her body by slowly peeling that skin off and breaking those white teeth that insulted him.
And what did the audacious girl in front of him do? She burst out laughing. She laughed until her eyes teared up.
"Or maybe when I am done with you," she retorted, her legs moving quickly. Her blade aimed for his neck.
The men pointed their guns at her and fired. She dodged each bullet with ease and skill. Her body twisted and twirled around them as if dancing to the cacophony of gunshots.
She chose to use the knives on her body rather than the gun strapped to her ankle. It would be far more satisfying to watch them bleed as their eyes slowly shut and life flew away from them.
The room was filled with the piercing sounds of bullets. But, no one from the outside came to their aid. It was an unspoken club rule. One cleans their shit.
Selena stabbed him. One of her daggers was inserted into his left eye, causing it to swell and blood to run down his face. She repeatedly stabbed the man. Her breathing became erratic as she vented her rage at him.
"Die," she yelled as she slashed his skin. Each cut ripped through his skin, rendering his face unrecognizable. "Fucking die," she screamed, hot tears streaming down her smudged face. She wanted the images of their faces to fade from her mind, so she did. She savagely mauled their entire faces.
They were all dead, all eight of them.
Selena heaved, her eyes watering. This was only the start. All those who had wronged her would pay the price. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold.
Her white shirt was soaked in blood, the thick liquid sticking to her skin as it dried. As her face was splattered with red, her pony released. Yet there was something majestic about her, perhaps the way she held her head up with blazing eyes that saw allure in death.
A man walked into the room. Gray hair and specs adorned his face.
She looked up at the beeping red light in the room's top right corner. Then she turned to face the man in the suit who was watching her, her bloodied face blooming with a disturbing smile before returning to the camera.
"Did I pass the test, Big Boss?"
~~~~
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