Page 20 of Quintessentially Q


  He sighed, grabbing a lock of my dirty hair and twirling it around his finger. “Do you know what would happen if you didn’t get a fix in an hour or two?”

  “You’d shake so hard you’d probably bite off your own tongue,” Leather Jacket announced happily, adding, “You’d be so consumed with the need for a fix you’d pick at your own flesh. You’d climb the walls. Tear off your fingernails… You’d willingly sell your body for a meagre drop of what you need.”

  I shoved White Man away, hunching with my head in my arms.

  Is it true? Would that happen?

  But I didn’t have to believe them for it to be real. Already my skin itched for relief and my mouth watered for something other than food. I couldn’t exist in this world. I wanted the endless smog, the warm comfort of oblivion.

  I looked up. I sat on a desk in the corner of a large room with threadbare carpeting and filing cabinets. A tatty cobweb-covered lightshade hung in the centre of the room.

  I squinted, trying to focus. I didn’t know if it was the drugs or lack of food, but my vision was fading. My hearing was dulling. My body failing.

  Coughing loudly, I almost fell off the desk with the wracking episode. I wheezed and every rib dug into my skinny sides. I didn’t need to be a doctor to know I had pneumonia.

  The constant chill, the heavy, lethargic limbs, the sloshing in my lungs when I went from lying to standing all pointed to the illness.

  White Man clucked his tongue. He stood over me looking regal and collected in his baby blue polo and jeans, belying the true evilness inside him. At least Leather Jacket wore his intentions on every inch of his body. White Man looked like a favourite uncle or distinguished businessman.

  “You passed your final lesson today. How does it feel to be a killer?”

  I sucked in a breath, trying to stop the memories from overtaking me.

  The loud boom as the gun went off.

  The kickback of the heavy weapon.

  The smell of gunpowder and bloom of red on the innocent girl’s forehead.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as my fingernails scratched my forearm, finding some relief from the slowly building itch.

  White Man didn’t leave me alone. “Did you enjoy breaking that girl’s leg?”

  Slamming my hands over my ears, I forced myself to forget.

  Forget the thwack of the bat against her femur.

  The snap of bone as it gave way under the force.

  I whimpered, rocking on the desk.

  White Man grabbed my hands and inspected my fingernails. Broken, dirty, a thick layer of filth wedged under the tips.

  “Did you like scratching that girl until her breasts ran red? It’s her blood under your nails.”

  My mouth hung open as I stared at the horrible evidence.

  Images of scratching her, sobbing as I dragged my claws across her stomach and breasts haunted me. By the time Leather Jacket let me stop she looked like she’d gone head to head with a cheetah.

  I wanted to collapse into a puddle and cry. I wanted my soul to leak free from my eyes and escape this ruin. These memories of what I’d done.

  White Man stroked my cheek. “You did well. And your action today proved to me that you’re ready.” His lips twisted in a sadistic bow. “Do you want to know what you’re ready for?”

  I shrivelled inside. My heart chugged with terror. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t listen to more atrocities. A salty tear escaped my scratchy eyes.

  Kick her.

  Punch her.

  Scratch her.

  Kill her.

  And I did.

  Over and over.

  I relived the moments where I became Leather Jacket’s toy—his obedient monster. Oh, my God, I remembered their agony. Their terror. The sound of their bodies breaking, repeating like a horrible symphony in my head.

  More blood. More screams. More…more…

  “Get out! Get out!”

  White Man cooed, “There, there. Do you want something to take the edge off? Make it all go away?”

  Yes!

  No!

  They owned me. Drugs were now my deliverance. My reality was something I could no longer endure as I’d dirtied it, torn it to smithereens, and filled my soul with corruption.

  Seconds ticked past, and I shook so bad my entire body jiggled like a flesh-picked skeleton.

  “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” He stroked my hair, trailing his hand to my breast.

  I moaned a little, tugging free, but he pinched my nipple, keeping me in place. “You can try and fight it, but ultimately you know you won’t win. Already you’re craving. We’ve given you a high dose…you have a long way to fall, little girl.”

  “Wh—what d—do you w—want?” I chattered, scratching openly at my dirty arms. The itch was spreading, consuming me.

  He licked his lips. “Such a sweet question. But you know what I want. I want you to beg.”

  I shook harder, trembling as ramifications bowled into me. He wanted me to beg…for what? Drugs? Sex? For him to do whatever he wanted to me?

  I can’t.

  I won’t.

  But you know you will…eventually.

  Icy panic turned my shivering into quaking. I dry heaved as my lungs ached with liquid and sickness. “Please. Just let me go.”

  He stroked my hair, pulling me against his chest until my cheek rested on his shoulder. “Soon, little girl. Soon we’ll sell you, but you aren’t quite broken yet. I made the mistake of selling you whole and it landed me in a lot trouble. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

  His voice soothed me even as his words signed my death warrant. “When I sell you, you’re going to be so dependent a master will be able to do anything to you and you’ll want it. Your mind will be so fragmented you will accept orders as life-lines, as you can no longer think for yourself.”

  I cried silently. Hating the promise in his voice. Hating that all of this would come true. I was so close to being the perfect slave. My addiction to Q was overshadowed by the need to have the fog and jittery warmth. I’d never been this close to losing myself.

  I’m already lost.

  It petrified me.

  “Please…please…” I no longer knew what I begged for.

  “That’s close enough,” White Man murmured. “Ignacio.”

  Someone grabbed my arm, and the small prick of the needle was pure elation. I wouldn’t have to listen to bones snapping or see blood gushing. I would drift uncaring and remote.

  “Precious, I’ve enjoyed this journey with you. You’re not ready yet, but after tonight…perhaps you will be.” White Man kissed me on the forehead as my body gave out and I hung lifeless in his arms.

  False warmth welcomed me and I sighed, letting my body sink deeper, faster.

  At the bottom of the fall, Q was waiting.

  His arms crossed over his powerful chest, his suit glistened black, looking like velvet. “This isn’t you, esclave. My Tess wouldn’t be this weak.”

  I giggled, rolling in the fog, letting it cuddle me in its chemical embrace. “I’m no longer your Tess. I’m nothing anymore.”

  “Don’t say that. I’m coming for you. Fucking fight. Don’t waste my journey to find you.”

  “You’re too late. You’re too late.” A fluffy cloud danced in front of me and I reached for it, falling flat on my face.

  A livid Q paced, his perfect shoes kicking up wisps of fog. “Fight dammit! Se battre comme vous le faites toujours!” Fight like you always do! His voice seeped through my stupor, making me hate myself.

  Instead of screaming back, I hung my head and let his wrath crash over me. “I can’t. I can’t. I’m done.”

  “You’re not done. You hear me. Fight!” The command forced some sort of energy into my body, only to amplify my wounds and reinvigorate awful memories. I deflated further to nothingness. I closed the door on Q’s beautiful face. I cut myself free so I no longer had to endure. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t
strong enough.”

  The world went dark as the smog whisked me away.

  “Goodbye.”

  *****

  Cold woke me first.

  A biting freeze on my nipples.

  I groaned, trying to swallow the thick furry aftertaste in my mouth. My entire body felt foreign, frigid.

  Where the hell am I? I thought hell was supposed to be unbearably hot.

  I could do with heat. My lungs were heavier with liquid, and every breath I wheezed with a struggle. The punishment of beatings and abuse turned my body into a wasted object, no longer useful for anything apart from the garbage.

  “She’s awake. You may precede, Ignacio.”

  My heart raced, chasing away the last of the smog I lived in. My brain kicked into gear and I looked around.

  Shit.

  I was in some sicko’s idea of a bedroom: a satanic bedroom. Black curtains hung lopsidedly over a boarded-up window, peeling wallpaper hung off the wall like dresses half shed, and a red lightbulb in the grotty chandelier turned the entire room into nothing but sick shadows.

  My stomach twisted as I looked down. I was shackled to a scratchy bed, naked, wearing only gnawing rope on my wrists and ankles. The knots held my legs open, completely vulnerable.

  Vomit rose in my throat but I swallowed it down. If I threw up I might choke and drown.

  Good. Drown. Death would be a far better existence than what’s about to happen, Tess.

  A whimper sounded beside me and I looked to my left. The blonde with the barbell and scratches down her chest lay in the same prone position. Our eyes met and her mouth wobbled as she fought back tears.

  “Help,” she whispered.

  I wanted to reach out and hug her. I wanted to protect her. Tell her all of this would be okay; that it was just a horrible dream.

  I shook my head, biting my lip so I wouldn’t cry.

  She squeezed her eyes, dispelling a waterfall of liquid. She sniffed, trying to bury her head into her shoulder.

  “Which one do you want first, Ignacio?”

  My eyes flew to Leather Jacket as he prowled at the end of the bed. White Man sat in a fancy faded chair by the peeling wall.

  Leather Jacket smirked, his eyes slithering over every exposed inch. “I’ll go with chubby. Let the puta bitch see what’s gonna happen to her once I’m finished.”

  Oh, God.

  I thrashed my head, twisting my limbs, trying to get free.

  I cried out as the woman who’d tattooed me waved from beside the bed. She gave me a horrid grin. “Time to go to a happy place.” She sat on my shoulder and inserted a needle into my overused vein. As she pressed the plunger, White Man murmured, “This is a different concoction to what you’re used to, little girl. It’s going to…well, it’s going to play with your mind. After all, that’s the part we need to break.”

  The icy heat already threaded through my veins, heading to my heart to be shot around my body.

  White Man stood and came forward. Patting my naked foot, a shred of pity appeared in his gaze. “After today, you’ll be sold. I’ve kept my side of the bargain. I will miss you, though. I’ve grown rather fond of your strength. It’s been a privilege to ruin you.”

  He moved forward to cup my cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve told your new owner that you like it rough. You’ll be well taken care of.”

  I gasped as the worst feeling in my life started.

  Beetles.

  Spiders.

  Insects with teeth and tiny claws shredded my intestines with rapid gnawing. My entire body itched and burned and I screamed. Then I coughed because my lungs couldn’t hold enough oxygen. I cried and coughed until I wheezed for breath and still the insects grew worse.

  What’s happening?!

  “Make it stop!”

  Leather Jacket and White Man looked on as the sensation crept up my arms, into my fingers, my toes, my stomach, my chest. My heart became infested with cockroaches. My tongue chewed on by locusts.

  And then it hit my brain.

  I screamed as if my soul could fly free and evict itself from this prison of a body. This prison fast filling with murdering beetles and bugs. White Man morphed into a giant rodent, his perfect teeth elongated into yellow fangs. Leather Jacket evolved into a jackal, slobbering and laughing, growling and raging.

  The girl next to me stayed pure and virginal, glowing white and silver with all the goodness in the world while the room began to dissolve, walls melted, paint dripped from the ceiling, scalding me as it landed on my naked body.

  Leather Jacket with his jackal head started undressing. He removed his black jacket and slung it to the rapidly eroding floor. Flames licked the awful carpet, singeing a fiery path toward us.

  I couldn’t breathe. I can’t breathe. This can’t be real. It can’t be real.

  Once Leather Jackal removed his shirt and trousers, he eased off his disgusting underwear and stood with his small bent cock jutting out from a thicket of black hair. His groin crawled with spiders, a mass seething between his legs.

  I closed my eyes but the visions found me there, too. If possible they were worse.

  Q featured and he morphed from naked perfection with his sparrow tattoo, into a raging black-winged angel. His back sprouted three-metre-wide wings, glistening ebony with oil-slicked raven feathers. His pale jade eyes glowed with ferocity.

  He shook his head in weighted disappointment and turned his back on me. His wings encompassed him into a black cocoon until he exploded into a million birds and took wing.

  He left me.

  Left me with Jackal and Rodent.

  Something grabbed my ankle and my eyes flew open. White Man Rodent trailed his fingertips up my shin, my thigh, right to my hipbone, cutting me like a dagger even though he had no weapon. Phantom blood wept from where he touched, crying with red.

  “This is for your own good.” He raised his fist and punched me in the jaw.

  My head snapped sideways and I latched onto Blonde’s eyes. She panted, looking manic and wild. Undrugged, her eyes were clear and panicked. She looked like an angel, and I went from wanting to protect her to wanting her to protect me.

  Please save me.

  Another punch, but this time to my stomach. Lying down made the hit resonate through my tummy to my kidneys and liver.

  Leather Jackal climbed onto the bed and came forward on all fours, gawking at Blonde Angel and me. His knee went between my open legs, and I cried out as he slurped his horrible feral tongue into my belly button and down. He nipped at my clit, dripping with burning saliva.

  I screamed and screamed as his saliva ignited into flames, burning me to a cinder. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. Make it stop!

  White Rodent ordered, “Pay attention to the other one. Let the drugs fade a little. She won’t cope otherwise.”

  Jackal nodded, breathing deep and gruff. One long paw grabbed me between the legs, probing me, raking me. He groaned as he forced a shredding nail inside. “You won’t be dry for long, puta. You wait for those drugs to switch. Soon you’ll be begging me.” He removed his touch and clambered on top of poor Blonde Angel. She keened as he settled between her legs. His hairy, untoned ass thrust hard as he rested his elbows on either side of her face.

  “Lesh her go—go—you bastard!” Was that me? That slurring, broken, wild-sounding thing?

  White Rodent punched me again, this time in the ribcage. I cried out as my old cracked rib wailed in agony. Did he rebreak it? It felt like it—every breath punctured my lungs, letting the build-up of liquid trickle out, filling my body with slime.

  “Every time you tell Ignacio to stop, I’ll hit you. Do you hear me? You have to learn that speaking without permission equals pain. You have to learn that obeying is the only thing left for you. Do you understand, little girl?”

  I raised my heavy eyes to look at the massive rodent standing over me in his blue polo and jeans.

  Why is a rat dressed? It’s speaking to me.

  “It’s here to rape you
, Tessie. Do things to you that I would never do. You left me,” Brax murmured in my mind.

  I knew it wasn’t real, but no matter how hard I tried to snap out of it, I couldn’t. The horror wouldn’t let me free.

  Leather Jackal kissed Blonde Angel, rubbing his horrible snout all over her face. She cried and wriggled.

  “St—stop it!” I yelled.

  Instantly, a sharp ringing slap blazed my cheek. “What did I just say, precious?” White Rodent shook his head, admonishing me. “You need to learn.”

  He said something about pain. Disobeying? Don’t disobey?

  “Disobey. Fight. I’m coming for you, Tess!” Q raged in my head.

  But if I fight, I get hurt. Why would I keep inviting such pain? That’s stupid.

  “It’s who you are. You’re too strong to let them do this to you.”

  Q fizzled away, replaced with White Rodent again. He asked, “Are you still with me, little girl?” He peered into my eyes, but I couldn’t bring him into focus. He stayed blurry and furry and vague.

  Jackal spat on his paw and rubbed his claws between Blonde Angel’s legs. Her whimpers turned into ragged gasps and pleas. “Stop. Please. I’ll do anything you want. Please. Don’t do this!”

  “L—listen to her! S—stop!”

  A punch to the breast.

  Fuck, that hurt the most. The sensitive tissues yelped and burned.

  “Learn, girl. Retaliation equals pain. Next time, I won’t be so kind.”

  Next time? Next time what?

  Coherency left me and I swam deeper into fog.

  I’m cold. So cold. Insects have taken over my body. I feel them creeping through my blood. They’re chewing on my brain.

  Blonde Angel suddenly bellowed and screeched. I watched in horrified terror as Leather Jackal plunged his putrid cock inside her. He groaned deep and licked his lips, looking deep into my eyes. “You’re next, fucking bitch. See how I’m fucking her. That’s gonna be you.” He thrust again and again. “Oh, yeah. You’re gonna take me. I’m gonna pay you back for fighting.”

  The fear swelled over me, bringing with it more spiders and locusts.

  Blonde Angel fell deathly silent. Her body rocked with Jackel’s pummels and her eyes never stopped leaking, but her face went slack as shock stole her mind. I literally heard the snap as her mind broke.