Deviant Fixation

by Valencia Carmelita

  Bev and Grigori decided to show up today instead of tomorrow. I had no desire to come downstairs, but Rachael, Katie and Bev literally dragged me down. Their faces enraptured with Christmas spirit.

  Thankfully the demon isn't present otherwise I would find it a difficult time sitting here unwrapping my gifts.

  I had received so many name brand beautiful clothes, lotion and perfume sets from Rachael, Anya, Lorna, Mrs.Agnelli, Serge, Huxley and Duffield.

  Bev gifted me female combat boots, combat jeans, combat jackets, camouflage jackets, army helmets, t-shirt's with inscription 'I ❤️ The Mafia' , and 'Mafia's lil Angel' .

  This girl was seriously in love with this military, Mafia, guns and weaponry lifestyle. I didn't understand why I needed army camouflage helmets or those t-shirts.

  But she was eagerly looking at me for approval. I desired not to come across rude, so I display my gratitude.

  Charlie and Arielle received tons of priceless toys and clothes so they were busy into their playtime. Even Haruki was spoiled by cat trinkets.

  I was sitting cross legged from Rachael, Katie, Mrs.Agnelli, Anya, Lorna and Duffield.

  "Okay okay enough of Bev's crazy gifts!" Katie laughs while Bev openly scowls at her.

  Katie places a sparkly pink gift wrapped box into my lap. "That's from me, open it."

  Albeit both of them are very close friends, Katie is a complete girly girl. Yet Bev , a total tomboy and made no effort to hide it even if Rachael and Katie disapproved.

  Within seconds I unravel the sparkly pink wrap and uncover the lid. I smile at the neatly folded silky hijabs in varying colours.

  Katie leans forward and whispers for me to hear. "Those are made from the finest Mulberry and Spider silk..it's by the fashion designer Freddie Cortes."

  My mind lights up in remembrance of the the eccentric fashion designer I met the day of the pageant. I feel the softness of the fabric in between my fingers before saying. "Thank you so much, but you didn't have to get me such expensive hijabs. Regular ones could have sufficed."

  Katie shakes her head and continues in a lowered voice. "Don't worry about it, I know Fredie personally. Anyway, I know how much you miss your scarves, so you can start covering your hair again."

  "Is that mulberry silk fabric?" Rachael pipes in while she peers over her glass of champagne at us.

  In haste, Katie places the lid over the box in my lap. "Um yeah it is!"

  "Can I see the brand name ?" Rachael reaches for the box but Katie shifts it away.

  "The brand is Klein!" She stammers. I look to her in complete puzzlement. Rachael stares at her dubiously but then merely shrugs and turns her attention elsewhere.

  "Klein?" I ask Katie over her apparent correction. "is everything alright?"

  She exhales almost sadly and whispers. "Rachael hates Freddie Cortes since he is partnered with Rebecca's clothing line..can't get into more detail."

  "Alright.." I peer at her uncertainly.

  Turning away from her, my breath hitches in my throat. I catch sight of the demon.

  He's stands at the entrance of the lounge. A silent spectator, eyes only on me.

  When did he get here ?

  "Oh Vladimir!" Rachael jovially acknowledges him. " we absolutely love your gifts! The children are so happy! Come here and unwrap our gifts to you!"

  Everyone voices their agreements.

  "Later.." He utters in a clipped incisive tone. Without breaking eye contact with me, he saunters in. His cane clicking against the floor and overcoat bristling.

  I shift my eyes to my fingers, nervously fiddling with the hem of my cardigan. I wanted to get up and leave for my room immediately.

  What I least expected next, was for his polished black boots to come to a halt inches away from me. Wide eyed, I glance up at him to find he's austerely peering down at me .

  Everyone has gotten quiet as they direct their attentions on us. My face emblazoned with a sudden blush.

  "I need a word.." He commands, voice underlined by authority. "In private.."

  I throw a glance around at everyone.

  Is he talking to me ?

  "I'm referring to you, Kashani.." He addresses rigidly . "Word in private..now.."

  My eyes widen again in surprise, this was the first time I ever heard him say it.

  My heart beats increasingly fast as I look towards everyone else. They all appear in a mixture of mild fear and puzzlement.

  "What's wrong ?" Rachael queries.

  Without glancing her way from me, he replies in a vexed tone. "I mentioned private for a reason..did I not, dear sister ?"

  "Sorry." Rachael apologizes sheepishly and then looks to me expectantly. "Go on, Sanam, don't worry..we'll be waiting here."

  With repleted hesitance, I get up slowly and awkwardly walk past him out of the lounge. Within seconds he steps out behind me and I turn my face away from him.

  "Keep walking straight Kashani.." His deep masculine voice furls over me, causing me unease. "And Stop when I tell you to."

  "W-whatever it is, y-you can tell me here." I say, my voice wavering without meeting his eyes.

  "Do as I say.." He orders in a lowered threatening tone. I flinch as his minty cool breath hits the side of my bare neck. "I'll drag you if I have to..no one can do shįt about it."

  He leans over further, mouth near my ear and a scornful divulgence leaks his voice. "In private..I must make something crystal fucking clear."

  I comply in repleted trepidation. My legs feel antsy as I begin walking ahead of him. His gaze scathing me from behind while the clicking sounds of his cane against the marble floors ricochets off the walls.

  We stride past the ballroom doors and he halts me at the billiard rooms entrance.

  "Get in." He commands. I pilfer an incredulous and fearful glance at him. His sharp eyes narrowed. "I haven't got all day, Kashani."

  With perspiring and tremulous hands, I turn the door knob and enter. The vast room is shrouded in mostly darkness save for the light that pours in from the open door. I can see the outline of the billiards table and the leather couches scattered near a fireplace along with an alcohol drink bar. The air permeates a hint of cigar smoke from the gatherings of yesterday.

  I turn awkwardly towards him. His blue eyes gleam with a perilous streak as they remain focused on me and he closes the door behind him. I helplessly stare at the door.

  Without breaking eye contact, he extends a black gloved hand out to his side and deftly flips the light switch.

  The room dimly illuminates.Then he slips his gloves off and lays them aside on a vacant shelf, still refusing to look away from me.

  I feel my throat constricting from his scrutiny and suppress my knees from trembling.

  His eyes settle on my lips and he begins inching towards me. I take a step back instinctively and blurt. "S-say what y-you have to say."

  Slowly he aligns his gaze with mine and commences. "What happened two nights ago-"

  I let out an involuntary gasp from the reminder and Immediately, I regret it. His eyes shifting to my lips again.

  I feel my face flaming while he continues to stare intently. Quickly I avert my gaze to my shoes. Silent heavy seconds elapse till he picks up where he started.

  "What happened..between us.." His voice lowers on a husky edge.

  My heart hammers rapidly at the raspy deviation in his tone. I risk a glimpse at him, his ravenous gaze returns from my lips to meet mine. I stifle back another gasp in my throat, this time from the intensity within his eyes.

  I wish the ground would open and swallow me instead of the way his eyes were drinking me in. Reverting my glance at my shoes, my fingers nervously began fiddling at the hem of my cardigan.

  Again slow seconds pass and eventually he clears his throat. I look up to see his jaw clenching in abrupt ire and with a hardened voice of steel he warns. "Not a single minuscule detail must escape.. Got it ?"

  It takes a few seconds for me to process his words with my affectedly sl
ow mind. And I force a nod in agreement, my throat and lips too dry to speak.

  "Not one word of that fūck up.." He reprises in a levelled conniption. "And I'm certain, it would smear your image as much as mine if anyone found out."

  I blankly stare at him, my brows edging towards a frown.

  Does he honestly think I would want anyone to find this out ?

  I would die of guilt if the world knew of my shamelessness that night.

  "God..look at you.." He continues, voice deep and resonating with malice. His gaze degradingly rakes over my figure and I feel goosebumps surfacing over my clothed skin.

  Anxiously, I shift my weight on my feet. A brief bewildered glint shines through his eyes before vanishing.

  His face contorts in an abrupt sordid expression. "You're extremely repulsive Kashani, beyond repulsive..and you should know that..you really should..its imperceivable how beyond fūcking repulsive you are.."

  Indignation begins ascending within me.

  What hell is wrong with him?!!!

  What is he on about now??!!

  I didn't come here to listen to his insults !

  I lick my parched lips to finally voice my objection. However the gesture distracts his attention to my mouth again. My mind is at an abrupt loss for a comeback.

  I notice his throat bob as he swallows hard in apparent discomfort. The atmosphere between us deviates into an undecipherable tension.

  I nervously glimpse at his hand gripping the cane by a deathly tight hold. While the other clenches into a fist, knuckles showing pale.

  His eyes darkening, literally drinking me in again, setting my nerves on edge.

  "Why..did you kiss back..Kashani?" His tone soft, husky anew.

  My heart freezes at that dreadful question. My vision falters onto his slowly approaching steps. I begin rearing back instinctively.

  "Answer me.." He sneers, inching menacingly close. "You kissed back..why?"

  "I-I didn't k-kiss back !!!" I exasperate in abrupt outrage, whipping my head up to meet his fervent gaze. "Why can't you just leave me alone ?!! You have said what you wanted to say! Just leave me alone now !!"

  His expression darkens ever more as he nears, towering over me. The dimmed light of the room casting shadows behind him, resembling a pair of black wings. I'm briefly reminded of those lamenting statues of graveyard Angels.

  Complete despair percolates over me at the reminder and I make an abrupt sprint past him, towards the exit.

  Before I feel a cold vice-like grip, clamps around my wrist. The breath knocks out of me as I'm plucked back and effortlessly spun around to face a deranged blue gaze.

  "Let go of me !!" I scream and struggle, striving to pry away with my fingers and nails at his tightening grip. His abrasive hand was beginning to constrict the blood flow in my wrist.

  He lets out a short hiss as my nails eventually rip through his porcelain exterior, thin lines of blood seeping out. I'm trembling all over in repleted distress.

  A perverse dark chuckle escapes from his mouth. "Years..and years..of carnage..I've revelled in.."

  I stop struggling, and fearfully meet his psychotic eyes, drilling into mine.

  He inches his face near my ear and proceeds in a sleek, torrid whisper. "yet.. it never felt as good as this.."

  Then he eases his face away, a disquieting smile edging at his lips.

  I begin to weep, letting out a subdued whisper. "Y-you're h-hurting me.."

  The smile on his face deadens. He abruptly retracts his grip. Eyes narrowing at the bruise forming around my wrist, he growls. "Go ahead..cry little girl..you make it look good anyway.."

  I spare no seconds in dashing out of there, my vision blurring. Misery engulfing my heart. My mind numbing from the sobs.

  Chapter 21

  Vladimir's POV in 3rd Person.

  ********************************************************

  Patience..and disciplined designation..

  Have always been the two denominators shackling his mind in the quiet before the storm. Provided that his kill is within the span of short intervals.

  Delay only produced irksome impatience. Roots of avidity sprout, shattering the deathly tranquil exterior. Releasing untimely clamor out of the dismal recesses of his mind.

  He was nothing less than devoted prisoner to such capacity. However, the duration of a wrong time, feared it. Invariably sensed the chaos defined him.

  Fear the one vanquished by discord within..

  His face obscured by a silver mask, bordered by the cowl of an ebony hood. With heavy anticipation, leather gloved fingers twitch. Ensconced in the pockets of obsidian garments. Robes concealing weaponry, laced with death.

  It's been far too long...

  A month had elapsed since he last embarked on an execution spree. The present was fixed to fulfil a task of such degree. A time to quench a bloodlust anew. Now was a period for inner solace.

  Serenity after the storm is much dulcet than before

  ..till the brewing of yet more turbulence..

  It was just another mission out of the many previously enlisted to him by his beloved uncle Dimitri Molotov. However it had been far too long since last he embarked. At present, it only caused him nothing short of concentrated anticipation.

  A fiendish smirk tugs at his lips, as he slinks further within the shadows of a murky establishment.

  He sensed the storm clouds of chaos brewing, burdening his mind. Overwhelmed by the images of blood. He was loving every moment of it.

  Exultantly, he peers between the two other Molotov Mafia assassins at his side. Serge and his youngest uncle's son Yigor Molotov, both equally garbed in black robes and black masks. Silently awaiting his next orders.

  "It's slay time..boys." A cold sadistic whisper escapes him.

  "Glad to have you back, Vladimir." Emanates from under Serge's mask, a light chuckle.

  "Indeed." Yigor agrees.

  With quiet repleted agility, Vladimir disappeared further into the darkening of the edifice. The other two assassins silently followed suit.

  The only continuous sound heard throughout the decaying establishment, was of water dripping from eroded pipes.

  The only other illumination issues from soft rays of the full moon, dispensing

  through the broken windows and crevices. A comforting light with an absence of peace.

  They arrive to a full stop before a clearing, still hidden within the shadows. The enemies stood guard in blazers armed by rifles.

  There were about a dozen of them. Vladimir figured ridding them a stroll in the park, even if he could on his own.

  Dimitri had dispatched Serge and Yigor as reinforcements since Vladimir hadn't committed to a mission in over a month. His uncle's doubts concerning his state of mind would be proven wrong tonight.