Biting back the anger, I chant to myself in my head that all these girls will be saved. Just like the other clubs, I’m going to get them all out. There will be nothing left of these fucking gentlemen’s clubs when I’m done.
And then I’ll move on to the next city, the next state, the next country if I have to.
I refocus on the rest of the club as I work to keep my face blank and my breathing even.
Evidently, I’ve walked into a place where people enjoy the taste and look of blood.
The ambiance is dark and moody and shows clear signs of sadism. The lighting is dim, the shadows swallowed by the black walls and furniture.
A deep red, the color of blood, is accented across the entire area. Red frames around old age paintings that indicate devil worship and sacrifice. Red shades around the mini lamps adorned on each wall. Red glasses, ashtrays, and drinks… And red heels and outfits that are covered in real diamonds and crystals.
Though I wouldn’t exactly consider their clothes as outfits. More like strings of fabric and jewels.
Yet, they managed to make the place drip with elegance and money.
“Zack! So nice to see you here,” a voice booms from behind me. Arranging a calm, but pleasant look onto my face, I turn and see a man I recognize very well. Daniel Boveri.
He’s a lawyer for the president, and someone Mark mingled with often. He’s a charming man—the tall, dark, and handsome type. With his thick black eyebrows set low over dark eyes that give him a menacing look, black hair, and a snake-like smile. He’s pushing his fifties, but the man isn’t hurting for women.
Dan exudes confidence and from the few times we’ve spoken, I understand why he’s a lawyer for the president. He’s incredibly manipulative.
“Dan, nice to see you,” I respond, shaking his hand firmly when he holds his out to me.
“I was wondering when I’d see you here. Mark spoke about bringing you a few times.”
“I’m sure he did,” I murmur. That’s news to me.
“Very unfortunate what happened to him. Can’t believe some psycho little girl managed to do all that to those four. Still never found their bodies, did they?”
I shake my head empathetically, appearing to be just as shocked by Mark’s death.
“Not that I’m aware of, man. Doesn’t she keep talking about henchmen or some shit?” I ask with a mocking smirk on my face. I hate to use Sibby’s mental illness to my advantage, but in this case, if it means saving hundreds of children and women, I’ll weaponize whatever I need to in order to see that I complete my mission.
God, I even sound a little like her. Sibby believes killing evil people is her mission in life, something she was born to do.
And I can’t entirely disagree with the thought when you’re constantly risking your life to do something you feel is right. Even if other people will see it as wrong.
Dan laughs, the tone cruel and judgmental. “Yeah, thought I heard someone mention that.”
I scoff in disgust. “Girl says she had five henchmen. If they only saw one getting away, can’t imagine if there’s more out there on the loose.”
That little remark will circulate and taint the minds of the Society. If they believe that Sibby’s henchmen are real, then it’ll keep suspicions low. At least until the therapists get to Sibby and realize that her henchmen are all in her imagination.
By then, these fuckers will all have bullets in their heads, and the children they exploit will be long gone.
Dan and I mingle for the next several hours. The women here are abused, all blitzed out of their minds and accepting of the punishments for doing nothing wrong.
A metal chalice out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. It’s sitting atop a table, an older man drinking from it steadily. Subtly glancing around, I notice a few more. They look exactly like the goblets that were used in the leaked videos.
My heart sinks, but so far, I can’t see any signs that blood is in them.
“Are you looking to be initiated into the club?” Dan asks casually, pulling my attention to him sipping his Scotch and eyeing me over the rim of his glass.
His gaze is probing and studious, but I give him nothing in return. The muscles in my face stay firmly in place as I respond, “Aren’t I already in?”
A smirk crosses Dan’s face, and with the dim lighting and the dancing shadows, it makes him appear sinister. I don’t even blink at the sight.
I’m much fucking scarier.
“Not even close, brother.”
I quirk a brow, sipping at my own whiskey. When I give him an expectant look, he chuckles.
“If you truly want it, you need to have an acquired taste.”
“I have many acquired tastes,” I say, adding a bit of darkness to my tone. Not hard to do when I’m not lying. Their tastes are spilling the blood of the innocent, and mine just happen to be killing everyone who does so.
“Pray tell, what do those tastes entail?” Dan inquires, his tone whimsical and almost amused.
I shrug a shoulder nonchalantly and take a sip of whiskey while pulling my phone out with the other hand. I pull up a picture of Daniella, a girl I saved five years ago.
She’s deep in a safehouse, as she was an orphan with no home to return to when I rescued her. It’s an innocent picture of her dressed in Barbie pajamas. What sells the illusion is the haunted look in her eyes and the bruises marring her skin. The picture was taken after we first rescued her. She was ten at the time, and I made sure to ask her permission before showing this to anyone.
This is the first time I’ve had to befriend pedophiles before I killed them, but I knew that if I was ever going to convince them I was just like them, I’d need to show proof.
And I’ll be damned if I show a random girl off the internet and risk their safety. At least with Daniella, it’s an old picture and I can ensure nothing will ever happen to her.
Handing the phone to him, I say lowly, “My latest toy.”
The words taste like fucking tar on my tongue, but I force them out anyways.
Dan’s brows skyrocket to his forehead, but an evil, happy little smile forms on his face.
“You share?”
I nearly break his hand when he hands me the phone back, his gaze lingering on the picture. Instead, I tuck the phone back in my pocket and bare my teeth.
“I get jealous.”
His head tips back, and a booming laugh echoes across the space. The noise of the room swallows the sound, but it feels like dynamite in my ears.
“Understood, my friend. And when they grow too old?”
I smile salaciously. “Organs are a hit in the black market.”
He grins. “I think you’d be perfect for initiation then. Next one is a week from now. You interested?”
“What's this initiation entail?”
“The expectations will be asked of you when the time comes. But when it’s over, you get lots of that,” he enlightens, nodding towards my tucked away phone. He flashes a feral smile. “Lots of that, in whatever shape, size and gender.”
“And this is safe?”
Dan shrugs a shoulder. “We had a spy, leaking videos, but the Society is confident they’ve found the traitor. And those videos haven’t been seen. They were immediately taken down once they were uploaded.”
False. The particular place they’re uploaded on the dark web, I had a signal put in place. The second that video was posted, Jay or I would immediately get a notification. We had forty-five seconds to download it before it was removed.
That quick.
But it was plenty of time for Z.
Interesting that they believe they caught the mole. I’ve no way to verify that, but it doesn’t matter anymore.