Akari gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers delicately tracing the strands of hair expertly styled by Omani. Despite the precision of the hairstyle, a sense of disdain lingered within her. It served as a stark reminder of a life she had long envied. One characterized by domesticity, sweetness, and the idyllic image of a white picket fence. The events of the previous day had exuded an overwhelming sense of domestic bliss, almost to the point of being unsettling. As Duri skillfully prepared a meal in the kitchen and Omani's skilled hands worked through her hair, a peculiar feeling of satisfaction washed over Akari.
There was an undeniable force hammering against the walls of Akari's mind, a persistent presence that she had been steadfastly avoiding and suppressing since the previous night. The question lingered: could they truly offer her the life she desired? Another voice, one of reason and logic, emerged to quell this notion, dragging it deep into the recesses of her being. It murmured the stark reality that Akari was merely a pawn in their grand scheme.
"Mama, let's go!!" Duri's voice bounced through the guest bedroom.
Akari confidently pushed open the bathroom door, revealing a striking black hoodie adorned with intricate swirling snakes reminiscent of the patterns from the movie "Beetlejuice." Positioned at the foot of the bed were a pair of rugged combat Converse boots, adding a touch of edgy style to the room.
"What…the…fuck?" Akari picked up the boots in her hands and moved them from side to side.
Omani appeared back at the door, knocking. "Come on, Mami, you got to go" he leaned his head against the door, with a gentle smile. "Get done," he winked before walking off.
Akari pulled on the hoodie and stepped into the rugged combat boots, feeling like home. A smile fell onto her face and snuggled into the hoodie. It smelt like them and it was so stretched out that it felt like them. She marched out of the penthouse, ready to take on the next assessment.
…
Akari stood transfixed, her eyes drawn to the dazzling neon lights that flickered and danced across the dim city streets. The vibrant hues cast an ethereal glow against her delicate features as she slowly made her way forward. Ahead, the tinted glass door of the strip club loomed, a gateway to a world shrouded in secrecy and the shadows of night.
As Akari approached, a man behind the reception desk, his greasy hair and sallow complexion betraying the exhaustion of this morning shift. The cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of his chapped lips seemed to mirror the world-weary resignation etched into his weathered face, yet he simply nodded as Akari passed by, seemingly unfazed by the routine of this familiar scene.
Inside, the dimly lit interior was a stark contrast to the neon brilliance outside, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and the heavy aroma of alcohol. Scattered throughout the club, a handful of men sat hunched in their seats. They stared fixated at the stage, where a leggy blonde swayed and gyrated, her hips rolling in a mesmerizing display.
The men, clad in wrinkled, dirty t-shirts, seemed to have forgotten themselves, their mouths agape and drool pooling at the corners, transfixed by the dancer's alluring movements.
As Akari descended the steps, every man in the vicinity turned their attention towards her, their eyes following her every move. But Akari paid them no mind, resolutely moving past the ornate poles and the gilded, yet artificial, railings that lined the area, her focus solely on the path ahead. She made her way towards the back, her steps steady and unwavering.
Ahead, a set of dimly lit stairs beckoned, leading up into a hallway that showed clear signs of water damage. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and flickered, casting an eerie glow over the worn, discolored walls. Undeterred, Akari ascended the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
At the top, a solitary door stood, its peeling paint and rusted hinges a testament to the neglect that had taken hold of this forgotten space. With a deep breath, Akari reached for the handle, stepping into the small office where Atlas sat.
As Akari's gaze fell on him, she couldn't help but notice how strikingly out of place he seemed within the confines of the cramped office space. The walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with towering stacks of filing cabinets, their drab grey hues casting a dull pallor over the room.
Yet amidst this sea of monotony, the man sat tall and proud, his maroon suit a vibrant splash of color that immediately drew the eye. The wine glass he held delicately between his fingers only served to heighten the air of refined sophistication that surrounded him, a stark contrast to the utilitarian atmosphere of the office. But it was the thin, precise scar that traced the top of his eyebrow that truly captured Akari's attention, which only made her smile.
Atlas was a truly captivating and enigmatic figure, possessing a peculiar blend of alluring and unsettling qualities. His appearance was a striking and unconventional juxtaposition. Handsome in a strikingly unconventional way, yet tinged with an aura of macabre darkness. His slicked-back blonde hair gave him an air of calculated sophistication, while his long, thin nose lent an almost predatory sharpness to his features.
"Looks like the little bird has returned," Atlas' hoarse voice moved against Akari's body. "Was my envelope so tempting?" He smirked, leaning back in his seat.
"I am surprised you are alive" Akari crossed her arms, leaning against his desk. "How is the scar?" she vexed, watching his expression twitched.
"What brings you here, little bird?" Atlas sat forward, sipping his wine. "Did you take out your little friends?" he smirked with a dark look.
"Not yet," Akari falling into a chair in front of his desk. "I am putting this straight, I need more money" she lifted her legs, putting them on his desk.
Atlas pushed them off. "I gave you enough money, do the job" he rolled his eyes. "The nerve," he scoffed, sipping his wine. "After trying to kill me"
"But now, I have information" Akari put his legs on his desk again, as Atlas' ears perked up physically.
"Go on," Atlas leaned in with a wide, dark grimace.
"No, no, no, more money, my love," Akari smiled, leaning her head down.
Atlas pulled out a couple of stacked rands. "What do you know?" He hit them against the desk.
Akari picked up the bills and began to count them. "Do you have some merchandise?" She touched the bills gently.
"I thought you don't do merchandise" Atlas eyed her suspiciously.
"I am keeping company," Akari smiled deviously.
"or we could have some fun" Atlas licked his lips, touching Akari's ankle, gliding up. Akari eyed hazed over and Atlas gulped. In a rapid movement, she shot the cocaine package, sending a puff of dusty cocaine. "WHAT THE FU…." His mouth was full with the silencer of her gun.
"I should have done this the first time" a sinister smile crept up Akari's face, she pushed the gun deeper into his mouth. "Did you know you tore my favorite hoodie and combat Converse boots?" Akari looked down at him. He began to mumble, but pushed it deeper into his throat, gagging. "No, no, I am talking now. Those were years and years of stretching and breaking in those, you know how much time it takes" She exhaled. "OK" I cocked the gun. Atlas began to scream with wide eyes, raising his hands. "What?" she pulled the gun out of his mouth.
"Are you going to kill me over some clothes?" Atlas pleaded, looking at her like she was insane.
Without a moment's hesitation, Akari raised her gun and fired, the bullet piercing directly through her target's skull. As his lifeless body crumpled against the chair, she glanced down at her nails, her expression twisting into a grimace of distaste.
"Gosh, I need to cut my nails" she whispered to herself, walking out of the office when her eye caught a flash of paper which was covered in white powder. "Now this is fascinating," she smiled.