Purgatory

by Hayley Smyth

  And Marnie. Would she keep this quiet? Or was it something far too big for her to contain?

  My brain ached, and I held my head in my hands.

  “Something on your mind, Ella?” Vladimir asked, his deep voice slicing the air and drowning out the soft music playing through the speakers.

  I looked up and gave him my award-worthy smile. “Just tired,” which wasn't a complete lie.

  Vladimir unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and grinned at me. Jozef leaned into his ear to whisper something, and for once, I wasn't even the slightest bit curious. I just wanted my bed.

  “Well, you have been busy this evening, haven't you, sweet wife?” His words sent a chill through my spine, and I looked at Marnie, brows pinched, and then quickly back at Vladimir. “However, you didn't make a fool of me nowhere near as much as I thought you would. Perhaps you can teach an old dog new tricks.” Vladimir and Jozef laughed, clinking glasses, the sound drowning out Marnie's scoff.

  Pushing back, the chair scraped against the floor, and Marnie grabbed the half-empty bottle of champagne and downed several mouthfuls down. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked between the three of us.

  “I'm going to bed; are you coming, Jozef?”

  Jozef shook Vladimir's hand and quietly escorted Marnie out of the room, leaving me alone with my husband.

  The silence was profound. In my thirteen years as his captive, I never found a way to decipher his moods or guess what I may have done to upset him, and tonight, for the first time, I thought I knew.

  “People seemed to enjoy themselves tonight; all the girls sold for a good amount I hear?” I asked, voice trembling, eyes downcast.

  Vladimir sipped his scotch, and his lips smacked as he spoke. “They did, Ella. Our profit went beyond my wildest imagination; it's incredible how much a man will pay for pure and submissive pussy.” My husband's sweaty palm reached out to grip my neck. His fingers dug into the skin, and I fought the grimace.

  “But the night's not over yet, sweet wife, I have a rather important job for you.” Vlad's hand moved to my throat, his thumb skirting over my windpipe, and I swallowed hard.

  A job for me? At this time of night?

  “The Murdoch has been making noise about seeing his...friend.” His black eyes bulged from the sockets when his hand moved farther down my throat, between my breasts. “You do this for me, Ella, you do what I want to my standards.... and I'll think about letting you keep that photograph of my daughter.”

  I couldn't even obsess over his usage of the word my, he was trying to provoke me, trying to set me up for failure before I'd done what he had asked, and this time I was not prepared to fail. I'd have chewed off my leg to have something to remind me that she was real and that she was mine.

  With my heart fluttering in an unknown rhythm, I nodded.

  He smiled, releasing me so he could stand. “Good, then come with me.”

  Vladimir led me through a maze of corridors I'd never seen before, a winding trail of dark and dim hallways that all looked the same. There was nothing I recognized about this part of The Mansion, and it was impossible to concentrate knowing that, if this went well, I'd soon have a piece of my heart back with me. Pigs were flying. Hell had frozen over. At last.

  Eventually, we came to a set of black double doors, and there was a red P painted across the opening, so half was on the left door, the other half on the right door. Beneath that, though, was a word that made my blood run icy through my body. "Morgue."

  I gasped upon seeing it. “Vladimir, why...”

  “Part of my conditions here, wife, is that you do not ask questions. You do not do anything unless I tell you, you do not speak unless I tell you to, and if you ever speak a word of what you're about to see,” he leaned in close. His scotch ladened breath hit me like a fist. “I'll kill you both.”

  The dress I was wearing had started to make me feel sick, it's tight fabric around my waist, under my breasts, and at my hips pushing all my nerves into my throat; I could hardly breathe.

  Vladimir pulled a set of keys from his pocket, located a gold key on a chunky round chain, and inserted it into the lock. With a heavy push and thick fists, Vlad opened the doors. My eyes were greeted by the sight of a black body bag on top of a silver table.

  Several drawers were lining all around the room, drawers where only the worthy deceased would wait before their funeral. Who was in this bag? And what could I possibly do to help?

  I hadn't noticed Vladimir locking the door until the room ceased to echo with my footsteps.

  “Vladimir, who is this?” I asked.

  From nowhere, as it so often was, they was a harsh blow to the side of my face, sending me flying to the floor. My hip landed first, sending a sharp pain throughout my body, my hand raised to feel the warm blood flow from my lip as I looked up into the eyes of my captor.

  “No questions, Ella. Do you listen to a word I say?”

  Tears threatened to fall, but I blinked them away. “I'm s-sorry.”

  He rubbed the back of his hand and left me on the floor before I heard the telltale sound of a zipper.

  With blood trickle down my jaw, I got on my feet and nearly fell straight back down as Vladimir revealed the body. The leather bag flopped opened either side of the woman's lifeless body, exposing her nakedness, the brutality in which she was killed. And what made the vomit spew from my mouth was when I looked up, expecting to find a beautiful sleeping face, I found nothing but a face pulled back to the bare reality of muscle.

  Burning acid poured from my lips, and I tried to ignore Vladimir's tuts of annoyance, but he was in no mood for my dramatics.

  Grabbing my upper arm, he yanked me closer to the dead female and held my chin in place, so all I could look at nothing but the icky red sight of her tortured flesh.

  “Fucking, look!” He bellowed. “Look at this, Ella, look at what your future could hold if you continue to upset me. If you continue to lie..”

  “I haven't lied...”

  “Don't. Fucking. Interrupt me.” He screamed now, directly into my ringing ears.

  Letting go of my arm, Vladimir walked over to a large silver cabinet, yanking open the doors he began to rifle through an array of tools. Tools I imagined only qualified doctors could use, even if they were on a dead body.

  Walking back to me with a blade of some kind now equipped, I felt my legs give way once more. The smells, the sights, the blinding strip lights overpowering my senses.

  “Here, take this,” he demanded, hand outstretched with the blade resting on his palm.

  I shook my head but reached out. “Vladimir, please. Please, this is too much.” I whispered, hoping to God that a whisper wouldn't cause him to hit me again.

  “Too much? Well, if it's too much for you knowing you'd get to see the little one, knowing I'd give you something you could keep close to your whore heart, then I'll just take it away...” His big hand went to snatch the metal weapon, but I was quicker this time.

  Shaking my head, I tried to locate my bravery. “No... I'll... I'll do it. Just tell me what you want done.”

  Vladimir grinned, his deep-set eyes hanging heavy, his yellow teeth and stale breath swarmed my nostrils, and I stole a deep breath.

  “Good, sweet wife.” With lips I despised, he kissed my cheek, a soppy kiss that would cause me to scrub my face raw later, and I watched as he gestured to the female once more.

  “She needs a little...work, you see? A few chops of flesh here and there.”

  My belly churned, and then my heart fell as Vladimir's hands rested on the tiny swell of her stomach. Oh, my God. No. It couldn't be.

  “Start here, with her face, I want deeper wounds, especially around her eyes.”

  Vladimir took hold of my hand and guided me, he pressed the tip of the blade at the corner of the woman's eye, the spongy muscle just moving back into place without the force needed to cut it.

  Tears I could no longer hold fell down my cheeks
and splashed my bare arm as Vladimir made me make the first incision. The muscle tore easily, and he soon let go and jerked his head for me to continue. I did so. Hoping and praying to God that he'd forgive me, have mercy on me. My whole soul was crying and screaming.

  “Good, Ella,” Vladimir beamed. “Now, the other side.”

  I did as instructed, hating myself more than ever before. I cut and sliced, mauled, and defiled this poor woman, and before long, she had fresh new wounds, and if it wasn't for the feminine curve of her body, there was no way of telling who she was.

  But I knew.

  I knew what I'd just done and to who.

  The question was: Why?

  I wanted to scream at him. If this was her, then it seemed he hadn’t cared for her at all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Then.

  Carter loosened his tie, yanking on the red stripy material before sitting on the wall behind the school, a tiny area we used to hide out for a smoke during break. I was pretty sure the teachers knew what we were up to, but in a school of hundreds of badly behaved kids, they probably thought we were the best of a bad bunch, leaving us in peace for the majority of the time.

  I rolled up my sleeves and smiled at my friend. “You're still coming tonight, right?”

  He sparked up a cigarette. “Of course, man, as long as there's beer, I'm there.”

  I lit my smoke and sat next to Carter on the wall, both of us squinting against the high summer sun. “There'll be better shit than that, Archibald Murdoch..”

  In unison, we finished the sentence, word for word. “Spares no expense!”

  “Who's Archibald Murdoch?” Came a voice from the left of us.

  Our heads snapped to the intruder, a girl we'd never seen before. Our mouths hung open at the sight of her, tiny white shirt, black bra poking out at the top, a skirt that stopped just under her ass. But what got me were her damn green eyes. They were electric.

  Carter pushed himself on the wall and offered the new girl his cigarette. She took it and inhaled a long drag, her eyes roaming over me.

  “Who the fuck are you, then?” Carter asked, swirling her like prey. If she was intimidated, she didn't show it. She simply rolled her eyes and passed the smoke back.

  “I'm Amy. Just transferred here.”

  “I'm Carter, and this is Jax. And you've found our hideout.” He said.

  I couldn't take my eyes off her. With hormones raging, the sight of so much flesh on show had my body temperature rising. I'd been with plenty of girls, but none of them looked like her.

  “It's not the best, is it? I could see you from my English class,” her arm pointed back to the imposing building behind us, where we noticed the classroom busy with activity. It was a few floors up, but she was right. How had we missed this?

  “The teachers don't fuck with us, they've got real delinquents to deal with.” I snapped, the heat grinding on my nerves.

  She raised a perfect eyebrow. “And you're not delinquents, huh?” Her tongue poked through her teeth.

  Carter groaned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to our growing circle. “If you're gonna hang with us, there's something you should know about our Jax here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off, man.”

  He ignored me and continued as the pair passed the cigarette back and forth. “Jax is a Murdoch, babe. He's the real deal.”

  Amy's eyes lit up with curiosity. “And who are the Murdoch's?”

  Carter feigned horror. “How long did you say you've been here?”

  She blew smoke into the still air, perfect chunky lips pouting. “I didn't. I arrived a week ago. Couldn't start until today.”

  Carter looked at me, amazed. She was like an alien. An alien with a tiny waist, legs for days, and a voice that made all kinds of things fizz inside of me. “She's in for a treat!”

  A loud bell rang out around the school grounds causing a flurry of movements from students who still gave a fuck about their education. They were rare, but they did exist.

  Carter stomped on the cigarette butt and grinned.

  “His old man's throwing a party tonight. You should come.” Carter said.

  I threw him a look. My pops didn't appreciate strangers turning up without being vetted by him. But the more I looked at her, the honey blonde hair around her face, the more I wondered what harm she'd cause? She was a kid like the both of us. Plus, the teenager inside of me just really wanted to see her dressed up and ready to party.

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah, course.”

  "Awesome!" Carter scribbled my address on the palm of her hand, and the way she looked at him made me wanna hit something.

  Then.

  My father had just left to greet the first guests, leaving me with Kendra, who was madly spraying hair product, the harsh smell nearly knocked me out.

  “Jesus Christ, Kend. Can you not do this in your room?” I asked, shoving my feet into shoes that had been polished half to death.

  She flicked her black curls over her shoulders and inspected her reflection in the mirror. “You've been in a shitty mood all day, wanna talk about it?”

  “I'm fine,” I lied.

  She looked at me in the mirror, dark eyes, identical to mine, unconvinced. “Anyone would think Amy wasn't into you.” She smirked.

  My head snapped up. “What the fuck are you talkin' about?”

  She smoothed down a sparkly silver dress before sitting next to me on the bed. “Carter told me he was bringing the new girl. I just put two and two together. I know you love being the center of attention.” Her elbow dug into my side, and I shoved her back.

  The truth was, the rest of the school day had been torture. Amy had a thing for my best friend, and he'd not be human if he didn't feel the same way, but the closer they got during the day, the more pissed I was. Not to mention the fact she seemed to thrive on teasing me.

  I was crazy.

  I had Mila.

  “I couldn't give two shits about her. It's not every day Carter gets a girls' attention; I stepped back to give him a chance.” Lies, my brain screamed, lies.

  Kendra knew it, too. “Uh-huh, how very noble of you,” was all she said before leaving for the party, the music blasting from downstairs her flame. Kendra had gotten Mom's love of music, and I'd been forced into the business as soon as I turned thirteen; I had no fucking clue what I was good at, drinking, smoking, partying, and being Dad's errand boy were all I could put on my rèsumè.

  The entire house, which stood on 200 acres of land, had been transformed into a silver castle, fit to burst with guests, plush couches, silver balloons, and other decorations. The dining room had had its table removed to make way for a dance floor, where a DJ dominated one side of the enormous space. The air was filled with smoke, the men and women dressed to kill, and I pushed my way through the crowds to find Mila.

  Her parents would be here, no doubt, seeing as her father and mine often worked together. I spotted Graham and the usual guys who raised their glasses towards me, and then I saw her. Amy. She was standing alone at the bar. She didn't look awkward or nervous though, she flicked her hair, smiled, and waved to anyone who done the same and then turned her back on me to order a drink. Underage drinking wasn't frowned upon in this world if anything: it was encouraged.

  Her body was covered in a shimmery gold material that exposed her entire back, a slender spine and farther down, her juicy ass. My mouth dried, but I was soon snapped out of Amyland as a tiny hand slipped into mine.

  “Hey, you okay?” Mila asked, placing a kiss on my cheek.

  I looked at her. Sweet button nose, a killer smile and hair as dark as mine, shit, she didn't deserve me pawning over another girl. I may have been young, but I tried to use my brain more than other anatomy.

  “I'm great, babe. Now that you're here.” I kissed her with only the hunger a fifteen-year-old could manage, in which she responded just as keenly. When we finished, I found myself looking for Amy, and, sure enough, I was getting
emerald daggers thrown my way.

  “Oh, look. There's Carter. Let's go say hey.” Mila dragged me across the room, and I watched as Carter leaned close to Amy, whispering into her ear. I watched as she laughed, throwing her head back, exposing her throat, her chest bounced, and when we reached the pair, I didn't say hello. I snatched the beer the bartender had already opened for me, and I necked it in three gulps.

  “Whoa, Murdoch wants to get fucked up tonight.” Carter yelled above the music.

  “You're goddamn right, I do,” I replied. “Whiskey on the rocks,” I called over to the barman. He raised an eyebrow, probably wondering if I was gonna embarrass my dad on an important night.

  “Babe, go easy, okay?” Mila warned, her tone soft.

  I downed the brown liquid in one go and gave the others a 'are you gonna join me, or what?' kind of look, and they all yelled for their orders, too, apart from Mila. She never drank alcohol, and she didn't smoke. She was so goddamn sweet and pure.

  “So, what's up with you, Jax? You're practically bubbling over there.” Amy asked when the four of us found a quieter spot to talk and drink.

  I looked at her. “I wish people would stop asking me that; I'm fine.”

  “Yeah, you don't look fine, man.” Carter addressed Amy, who was now draping herself over him. All long limbs and touching fingers. “He seems to forget I've known him for fourteen years.”

  “You met when you were one?” Amy asked.

  Carter nodded. “Yep. Been inseparable ever since.”

  “Hey, Mila,” Amy turned her attention from my friend. “Any tips on how to make my mark on Carter here?” She licked her lips, and I about died with frustration. “Because I don't like to share.”

  I laughed. Loud. A burst of incredulous noise.

  “What's funny?” She shot me a seething glare.

  “Nothing,” I shrugged, letting my hand roam around Mila's small waist, pulling her to my side. I needed something, and this bitch was driving me wild. And not entirely in a good way.

  “Well, just don't pass up an opportunity to spend time with him alone,” Mila smiled. “They take the word inseparable to another level.”