Mr. X

by Clarissa Wild

  “Go on …” My father nudges me forward.

  My heart beats in my throat as I push the gun against his head. My finger lingers on the cold metal trigger. I’ve seen my parents do this countless times. However, this is my first time. Can I take a life? Am I capable of that? I’m only nine years old. I knew the day would come when I would have to kill someone, but I didn’t think it would be this quick.

  “Kill him,” my father whispers behind me. “You know how to do it.”

  I swallow, looking at the man with tears in his eyes. “I can’t.”

  My father leans down behind me. “Do you know what this man did?”

  I shake my head.

  “He beat his wife to death and then shot his only child because he couldn’t live with either.”

  Holy fuck.

  I’ve heard shit before, but never really what they did. I mean, my father always said they were punished for a reason, but usually it was a stupid one, like stealing money or unpaid loans. Not this. No, most of the people my parents work for are even worse than the ones we torture. But this guy … Wow.

  “Do you think he deserves to live?” my father asks.

  “No,” I mutter.

  My father places his hand on the gun and wraps his fingers around mine, right on top of the trigger. I close my eyes. “We do not deal in mercy, boy, only death,” my father says. And then he pushes so hard I can’t stop the trigger from being pulled.

  ***

  Thursday, November 26th, 1998

  I can’t stop going to her house and watching her from a distance. Even though I’m not allowed, I want to see her. I miss playing with her. She seems so happy, even after what happened. Always darting about the garden, playing with imaginary friends. Sometimes I wish I was invisible so I could play with her again. I miss the times when everything was still simple. Still innocent.

  She’s younger than me, so young, she probably won’t even remember anything about that day when everything changed.

  We don’t work for her father anymore. After the funeral, we never came back to her house. I wonder if it’s because of what happened to her mother.

  Suddenly, I’m grabbed by the neck and flung back. I scream and groan when I land on the asphalt, head first. Before I have the chance to see who my attacker is, a bag is put over my head. I scream, but my mouth is jammed with a hand as someone drags me away.

  “Shut your mouth,” he says. The voice is vaguely familiar.

  I’m thrown onto something soft, but it doesn’t ease my pain. A punch to the face follows. A tooth dangles from my mouth, the taste of blood lingering on my tongue. I can’t fight my attackers as they choke me and slap me. They’re much stronger than I am. Tears flow from my eyes as they punch my stomach twice. I feel like I’m about to throw up, but then the hood is taken off my head.

  The brightness of the lamp above me has me blinded. A few blinks and I recognize the car I’m in, driving away from her house.

  “You had to go and visit her again, huh? I told you what would happen. Next time I won’t be so merciful,” my father says.

  ***

  Wednesday, April 16th, 2003

  Screams fill the hallway, elating me to my core. I can’t count the times I’ve tortured someone anymore. Yesterday a flaying, the day before that a brutal hacking. What happened before that is all a blur. As if I want to remember the things I do to people. I’ve become immune to the sounds. Heck, I’ve even started liking it. Every time I give someone a good beating, my parents give me more privileges and money, which is always a plus. That, and they don’t punish me for making mistakes.

  I’ve grown accustomed to messing with people. They are nothing but toys to play with and use until we’re done with them. My parents let me do the dirty work while they come back from time to time to interrogate my victims. I love to see the looks on their faces when they don’t give the answers my family is looking for and they know what’s coming next. Me.

  Powerful, that’s what I am. I control their pain. I even control their freedom. I could set them loose, let them go, if I choose to do so. Except, I won’t, because our family lives off these things. I live because I do these things, and I do value my own life. It’s kill or get killed.

  As my victim’s blood splatters on the walls, I see the lady with the dark brown hair tumbling down the stairs again. It plays over and over in my mind. Each and every time I see her as well. The girl that used to mean innocence. The girl I can never see again, because if I do, I’ll experience a fate worse than death.

  When I was young I used to believe in love and happy endings. What a load of bull. It doesn’t exist.

  ***

  Tuesday, September 6th, 2013. 9:25 p.m.

  They will all pay for what they did. Just thinking about it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Looking at the USB with the video, I know this is the only way. Life will be nothing but hell for him after this. I’ll keep bombarding him with shit he’s not prepared for until he begs me to take his life.

  I put the USB in an envelope and wrap it firmly before sending it off. Once it leaves my hands, excitement fills me. I can already imagine the look on his face when he sees what I’ve done with her.

  I take a deep breath as I step outside the post office. It’s a beautiful day. Perfect for ruining more lives.

  I’ve brought Jay to the city she once loved so much but which is erased from her memory. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Atlanta, but I still remember every corner of every street. This is where both our histories were made. If only she realized how dangerous it is to be here.

  I only have a few friends here I can truly trust. I’ll have to rely on them to do my dirty work for me and keep an eye out for Jay during the times that I’m gone, like now. Not that it’s needed. She’s grown accustomed to following me and obeying me, and seems less set on escaping me every chance she gets. She’s changed, for the better. At least, for me. Every once in a while a little voice inside my head wonders how she feels about this. It quickly dissipates as well.

  I get inside my car and drive toward the hooker part of town. I know where to find them; I’ve been here plenty of times before, either to kill their pimps or kill them. Or both. It didn’t matter, so long as I got paid.

  When I find a suitable one, I roll open the window and signal her to come.

  “Hey, pretty boy,” a woman with long blonde hair, walking in stilettos and shorts says. When she sees me for who I really am, a scarred, ugly monster, she winces.

  “So um … what are you up for?” she asks.

  “Not interested.”

  She rolls her eyes and sighs. “What the fuck are you doing here then?”

  “I’ll pay ten times what you’re offered here.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth shuts. Good. I was about to blow her jaw off just for talking to me the way she did.

  “I’m listening,” she says.

  “Good. Get in. We’ll talk specifics while driving.”

  As she steps inside, I light a cigarette. “Name.”

  “Natasha. You can ask, you know.” She shakes her head in annoyance. “So, what’s your name?” she asks.

  “X.”

  “What? Just X?” she scoffs.

  I raise my gun and point it at her in a flash of a second. She squeals, but I place my hand over her mouth. “Listen and you’ll live. Don’t and you’re dead. Simple. Understand?”

  She nods frantically as I remove my hand from her mouth, immediately locking the car afterwards so she won’t get out. “Now, you will work for me, but you must do exactly as I say.”

  “Why the fuck would I work for you?” she yells.

  “Because you value your life and money, and you’ll get to keep both.”

  She frowns, sighing. “Whatever. Just get on with it.”

  “There’s a guy; I want you to fuck him.”

  She starts plucking at some strings hanging from her shorts. “That all?”

  “No.” I wait un
til she looks at me. When she does, I take out a note with his exact address and where he’ll be at what time. “You will be there to seduce him at this exact time and place. He will be there and you will not let him go until you’ve fucked him.”

  “Uhuh …” she says, frowning again.

  “Make sure someone sees you.”

  “Right … Is this some sort of secret orgy? I’m not―”

  “You will do this if you value your life.” I hold the gun up higher again. “Now listen. Once you’re done with him, you’ll report to me immediately.” I fish an untraceable cell phone from my pocket and throw it in her lap. “You’ll call me and we’ll meet.”

  “And then what? Do I get my payment or do you want more shit done? Do I look like a fucking business to you?”

  “Shut up!” I say, pushing the gun to her head.

  “Okay, okay!” She whimpers.

  “You will do this, understand?”

  “Yes, I will,” she says.

  “Now this is very important, so remember it. If anyone talks to you, tell them you were used and beaten.”

  Her jaw drops. “What?”

  “Do not tempt me to pull the trigger.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No, and if you want your payment and your life, you will do as I say.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But it’ll be ten times the price.”

  “Done. Fuck him. Tell people he took advantage of you. Call me. Meet me. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, saluting me with a chuckle.

  I hate, fucking hate, hearing that word get spewed out of her mouth. It’s like she’s trampling all over the respect I demand with it. The respect Jay willingly gives me, because she knows I’m right. She knows I will take what I need and give her what she desires. She knows she owes it to me.

  But this woman … this one’s playing with fire. I’m almost tempted to blow her brains out right here and now, except I really need a complacent, replaceable, unimportant woman right now. She fits the bill.

  “Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.” – Anonymous

  Chapter 20

  Jay

  Saturday, September 14th, 2013. 10:52 p.m.

  His fingers curl around my upper leg, digging into my thigh as he hits the gas. Right there, below his hand, is a red belt mark from the lashings of last night. It wasn’t harsh or painful. It wasn’t punishment. It was sinful pleasure that brought him to do this to me. Before he fucks me he needs to see I’m his, needs to see his marks all over me. My reddened skin delights him. His smile means I get a treat. Nowadays, coming is the only release I have. He grants me this gift as a reward for pleasing him. This release is all I have left … I’ll do anything for it. I admit, I’ve become a whore to his commands. I don’t care.

  Like now, when I’m in his car, letting him feel me up. I don’t know where we’re going, and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that my life and body are in his hands, and that the only way to escape it all is by shutting myself off.

  I can already feel my heart falling deeper and deeper into his trap. I yearn for a loving touch, crave his attention, because he is the only one who can give it to me. He’s tamed me. It’s against everything I ever stood for, and yet I let it happen. My body is his. My soul is his. My mind … and my heart is soon to follow. Nobody survives without love, and he is the only one willingly offering it to me. He takes me and kisses my fear away, wraps me in his arms and tells me I’m his, providing me with certainty. How can I not say yes?

  I shudder when his fingers leave my lap and my skin is left cold and yearning for his touch. The car slows down and X parks the car in a deserted parking lot, close to a news station. He turns off the gas and waits. Glancing at him, I notice he’s fiddling with his tie while grinding his teeth. He’s waiting for something to happen.

  The doors to the building open and out comes a woman in high heels and too-short shorts. Her long ponytail swings from one side to the other as she walks down the steps and looks around the parking lot. X’s brows draw closer as he clears his throat and opens the locks on the door. My heart rate shoots through the roof as impending freedom awaits. The lock is gone. I could open the door, jump out, and run for my life. I could do it right now, while he’s still distracted by the woman walking toward an alley beside the building.

  My legs shake and my feet feel numb. Somehow I know I won’t be able to flee. No matter how many times I try, X would always catch me. Or he’d kill me before I managed to get away. And even if for some miraculous reason I escaped, the organization that’s after my head will never let me live in peace.

  I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life here with X. My brain just keeps playing these malicious tricks on me that put me on edge, that make me hate the fact that I can’t do anything about it. They keep reminding me that I’m robbed of my freedom, and I don’t want to be reminded at all. I just want to live in the moment and take it as it comes. That’s all I’m going to do. Yup. No more thinking. No more believing. No more hurting. Just be.

  For a brief moment X’s eye darts toward me, emphasizing the fact that I’m with him now. He opens the door and steps out, walking around the car to open mine as well. Holding out his hand, he looks down at me with a smug smile on his face. It’s almost as if he can see what goes on in my mind.

  I take his silky smooth hand. The gloves he’s wearing feel eerily comfortable as I step out of the car and pat down my tight black dress. Sometimes I’m still amazed when I look down and see myself in this dress. I look classy as hell, even though I’m no lady. X buys all my clothes and decides what I wear and when. It surprises me he wants to see me in this. In the bedroom I’m his slut in a skimpy dress, but when he takes me out I look like some sort of glamour girl.

  X even tells me what makeup to put on and how he wants me to look. I do my best to make him happy, because it means fewer problems for me. Except, when I look at myself in the mirror I can’t help searching for the marks he left on me. Seeing them reminds me of my strength and will to survive. Feeling them reminds me that makeup won’t hide the filth underneath.

  As he wraps one arm around my waist and beckons me to walk with him across the parking lot, I crawl back into the role he’s chosen for me. I look down as he guides me, his warm hand bringing about strange emotions. I won’t allow myself to feel them, so I watch his gun instead, the metal that decides the course of my life.

  “You’re my precious little slut, you know that?” X mumbles as we walk toward the alley.

  “Yes, sir, I know I am.”

  His hand drifts down to my ass and he squeezes it softly. “Good. Remember it. I’m going to be doing something tonight you will not understand, but I want you to watch, and I want you to remember everything you see.”

  My lungs feel constricted. This dress is suddenly too tight to breathe in. “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “Something that must be done.”

  I look up to see the monster he’s becoming again. In his eye resides a twinge of anguish, that exact look I despise. The look I’ve come to worship. Two conflicting emotions, two conflicting beings in one. It’s the same look he uses when he bends me over and spanks me until his hand is seared onto my skin. It’s the same look that tells me he owns me. It’s a look that both terrifies me and vexes me. The look is not for me.

  It’s for her.

  My breathing becomes rapid as we approach the woman in the alley. She shivers from the cold and eyes me from top to bottom.

  “Who’s this?” she asks, pointing to me.

  “None of your business. Did you do what I told you to do?” X says, his voice gruff and demanding.

  “Oh, I fucked him all right. And I went straight to your contact to tell him the news.”

  “Good.” X turns to me and I cower under his murderous look. “Stand over there. Do not do anything unless I tell you to,” he commands me.

  Then he turns back to t
he lady … and punches her in the face.

  My jaw drops in shock and I cover my mouth with my hand to prevent a scream coming out. The woman winces and tries to punch him back, but he grabs her wrists and pins them to the wall.

  “What the fuck was that for?” she yells.

  “I told you to make it look rough. You didn’t look roughed up enough.”

  “Fuck you. I went to the news and I told them I was used. You said that was enough.”

  “Not good enough. Your story might be convincing, but your looks aren’t. A few bruises might do the work.”

  “X? What are you doing?” I yell.

  He steps away from the woman, taking a deep breath. Then he takes out his gun and points it at her face. She screams and tries to fight him off, but before she has a chance to escape, a bullet has already penetrated her skull. She drops to the floor, dead.

  In shock I stare at the scene in front of me. A tear trickles down my face. He just killed some random lady right in front of me. Her life ended just like that. As if it was his right all along. As if he can play with anyone he wants.

  “I—I…” I stutter. I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe my eyes.

  X turns to me again. I panic, backing up into the alley, away from him, but he keeps stalking toward me. In the darkness his scar becomes even clearer from the moonlight shining down upon us. He truly is a monster.

  “Why?” I mumble. “Why do you keep killing them?”

  “She had to die.”

  “But she did something for you. You promised her something, didn’t you? She would never have done it if this was the outcome.”

  “I did, except, I don’t intend to pay hookers when they don’t do their job. Her job was to make it look like she was forced. She didn’t, so I took over that part.”

  “And you killed her for it?”