They say that the eyes are the mirror to the soul.
His soul was stone and dead.
His eyes were steel and demonic.
What was worse, was that he was terribly good looking, with dark slicked hair and a towering height. He was built but not too muscular, his presence screamed power. He looked like death, a dark and beautiful death. What was so scary, was how beautiful his darkness really was.
He had an outline, pure definition, beautiful flawless skin.
He stared at me, those dark murderous eyes. His expression remained still and silent. His jaw was set and he just stood towering above me.
He wore a dark suit, his stance was tall and flawless skin and I felt myself shrinking away from his stare.
"Get up," he said and took a step back.
My hands shook as I struggled to stand up.
I was scared out of my fucking mind.
I felt the tension in the room as I stood. I felt everyone's eyes on me.
I met Afanas's indifferent eyes. He stood to the side of satan, his hands folded behind him.
Satan remained staring at me, his gaze was unforgiving.
I felt myself feeling the need to cower under his gaze but I wouldn't. I promised myself I would make this mans life a living hell, and he seemed like the kind of guy to take pleasure from another's fear.
His eyes roamed my still body.
I stood straight, trying my hardest not to cower under his stare.
His head turned ever so slightly as if motioning to something and suddenly the world was motion.
Afanas grabbed my arm and I was being led away from the satan, his eyes never left me.
I felt the panic rise through me as I tried to pull out of Afanas's grip.
His grip only tightened, his nails dug into my arm.
He dragged me through the warehouse, my heels kept slipping on the cement.
He pulled me down in a hallway, I felt dread pooling inside of me. The halls was massive with locked doors at every corner. Every other minutes, gun shots erupted behind the locked doors. I didn't want to know what lay behind those doors.
"W-where are we going?" I asked.
He glanced at me, "You need to get ready."
I opened my mouth to say something but I didn't know what.
Get ready for what?
Just as I was about to ask, he spoke.
"You should tell Velkov."
"Tell him what?" Just the mention of his name made me tremble.
"That you're Russian. Better tell him now before he finds out. Ans trust me, he will." He pulled me through what looked like to be a garage door and suddenly we're in a house.
It was massive and dark looking. There were halls and doors surrounding all over the walls.
Afanas was quick. He quickly pulled me through a side door that lead to a confined a staircase.
"How do I tell him? Why do I tell him?"
He tugged sharply on the hem of my dress motioning me to move up the stair but I'm obviously allergic to gravity or some shit because I tripped.
"What the fuck is your problem?" He hissed.
"These fucking heels." I groaned as I tried to pull them off.
"Tupaya suka." He growled as he yanked me up and pulled me into his arms. /"Dumb bitch"/
He swung me over his back and ran up the stairs two-at-a-time.
"Don't call me that." I hissed. "Those heels are bitch."
I groaned as he threw me off is shoulder. Blood rushed to my head as I swung over his body as though I weighed nothing and suddenly I was on the ground of the next floor.
He pulled my arm and dragged me down the carpeted halls.
"You should tell him because if you don't, he'll kill you," he said icily. "I don't care if you die, suka. I care if you waste Velkov money."
He took a card from his pocket and swiped it on a door that clicked open.
He pushed me inside, "Get ready."
He slammed the door.
I felt the tears weld in my eyes but I knew that this was my life now.
Better make Velkovs life hell.
I shook as I stood up. I tried blinking the burning tears away. I was shaking.
The room was small, a bed, closet and a bathroom.
A bag lay on the bed and I opened it.
A short black skirt and a small back halter top lay inside.
What the fuck?
Oh yeah.. they think I'm a prostitute.
I'm not.
Fucking ducking mother trucker.
I slid it on, not knowing how much time I had, and not wanting to make anyone in this hell hole mad.
It clung to my body, my waist was exposed and the skirt kept riding up my ass.
At least I have an ass.
I walked into the bathroom and groaned as I saw my reflection.
I really did look like a prostitute.
Heavy black makeup clung to my eyes, my lips were stained red.
My hair was wild, like sex hair.. minus the sex.
Woo! Go virgins!
I looked tired, my eyes had shadows under them, my high cheek bones looked thiner.
I found a cheap brush in a drawer and run it through my hair.
I fixed my makeup.
I'm so fucked.
I swallowed a breath. I know what I need to do.
I'll make his life hell.
A shine in the corner of my vision caught my eye. I glanced at the shower head that looked like it might hurt if I smashed it on certain Russians head.
Bless.
I walked over to the shower and thank god I was wearing heels so I could reach the shower head.
I began pulling and yanking but this fucking shower head didn't want to fucking cooperate.
I slid my heels off and balanced on one foot as I began smacking the metal of the tap.
"Fucking."
Smash.
"Cooperate."
Smash smash smash.
"Be my bitch shower head."
Smack.
The shower head suddenly broke off and I grinned.
Me has a weapon.
I walked back into the room clutching the shower head like my life depended on it when suddenly the door flew open.
Afanas stood staring at me, his face unamused as he glared at me.
"The fucking are you doing, suka?"
I held the metal in between us.
My legs shook as he stared at me.
"I-I'm not sure."
He stepped towards me.
"Perestan, please." /"Stop"/
He took another step. "You think this is some kind of joke, suka? You think you can make it out of this? You fucking can't."
I felt panic rushed through my throat as he took another step towards me. My eyes flashed to the glint of a pistol hanging from the inside of his suit.
In a second his hands ripped the metal of the shower head away from me and his grip seized my arm.
"Be careful little angel. You're in a world of devils."
***