Wicked Minds

Chapter 02 || The Wrong One

P.O.V SOPHIA



When the man with the white mask said that dreams and reality become one here, he wasn't lying.

Club Artic looked Idyllic. Long crystalline wires that emitted a blue light hung from the ceiling like small crystal waterfalls.

Pillars that ended in round arches held things up, making it seem as if I had entered a catacomb.

The club had two floors. Where I stood now I could look down perfectly on the crowded dance floor. People were losing themselves to the beat of the music like there was no tomorrow.

I gripped the cool old iron railing and gently leaned forward.

In the middle of the dance floor, I saw the blonde head that was more than familiar to me, Zoë.

Her arms swayed with the music and I smiled gently. She could always be found on the dance floor, where I was pulled along by her more than once.

Typical.

That smile soon disappeared when I saw the bear of a man who came up behind and eagerly grabbed her by the hips, but Zoe didn't even seem to notice.

The man had tatoos all over his body, which crept up to his neck. His greasy brown hair gleamed in the light.

Before I could make any preparations to walk toward Zoe, I felt a heavy hand come down on my shoulder. The coolness of the hand made the hairs on my arms stand up.

I turned abruptly and came face to face with what looked like one of the club's waiters

At least I assumed so by the tray of glasses resting on his hand. Like the man who let us in, this one wore a white mask that hid his entire face.

"Champagne?" Sounded the raspy voice of the waiter. Even though the golden liquid looked more than tempting I had more important things on my mind, Zoë.

"No, thanks." Stammered I was somewhat distracted as my eyes were soon glued back to the dance floor.

The waiter lost my attention.

A knot formed in my stomach as the place where Zoë had previously been dancing wildly was empty. The familiar feeling of panic bubbled up as my eyes scanned the entire dance floor for my best friend.

She was gone, f**k. Could the man with tattoos have dragged her away? He would definitely have the muscles for it, or maybe I'm just exaggerating and Zoe desperately needed to go to the bathroom.

"The guy at the bar stands on it, though." Sounded the raspy voice of the waiter again, like the scratch of chalk on a blackboard.

A sigh escaped my lips.

Surprised that the waiter was still beside me, I averted my gaze from the dance floor a second time. This time with greater reluctance.

Waiting expectantly, the waiter had held out his tray to me. What's so hard about "no"? Skeptically, I looked at the glasses of golden-yellow liquid.

"What man?" Spoke my thoughts. The waiter turned his head toward the bar and I curiously followed his eyes.

At the sprawling bar were several silver-colored stools that flickered from the lights that wandered through the club.

Right at the center of the bar, a man sat casually on one of the stools.

His black shirt and pants almost made him disappear into the darkness of the club. Dirty blond hair lay around his head like a wreath.

His appearance was unsettling, to say the least.

When the man most likely felt the two pairs of eyes resting on him he looked up lazily from the glass of champagne resting in his hands.

His eyes found mine. A glass of clear blue. Cool and controlled, enveloped by an inky black mask that covered half of his sharp features.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy grin. He nodded briefly at me as the waiter practically pushed the glass of champagne is my hands.

Before I could counter defiantly, the waiter had disappeared back into the crowd of people, marvelous.

Meanwhile, the man at the bar had gotten up and was coming straight at me, like a vulture surrounding his prey.

That's how I felt in the middle of this club too, like prey. I often felt that way.

"I would almost think you don't like champagne, that you refuse free drinks?" The man's voice was a deep hum as he leaned against the railing beside me.

I snorted softly.

"Maybe I do like champagne," I certainly did. "But just not offered by strange men." That mixed with the fact that I was looking for Zoe.

I turned so I could look at the man. He laughed softly, a heartfelt sound that turned my stomach.

"You have a point there." His blue eyes studied my face. Up close, they were even more spectacular than from afar. "But if I tell you my name, am I still a strange man?"

It was my turn to laugh softly.

"Maybe."

"I'll settle for that, then." The man held out one of his hands to me. I studied them. His knuckles were open with wounds, old and new. Which made me wonder exactly how he got those wounds. "'Nico, nice to meet you."

Carefully I placed my hand in his and shook it.

His skin felt chilly in contrast to this far too warm club. A cold shiver traveled throughout my body.

Waiting expectantly, Nico looked at me. Right, this is the part where I say my name.

Still, didn't I want to forget who I was for an evening? After all, weren't that what masks were for? I had the chance to spend an evening not being the normal Sophia, so I did something stupid.

"So-" I shook my head. "Zoë, my name is Zoë."

Nico frowned for a moment as if something wasn't right in his head before his pearly white smile returned.

"The name suits you." I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment so I just nodded. After all, it wasn't even my real name.

A sip of champagne filled the awkward silence between us.

"Do you want to dance?" He then asked, but before I could answer Nico grabbed my hand. He fleetingly placed the glasses on a tray from a passing waiter.

Against my will, I was dragged down the iron stairs and onto the dance floor. Nico's grip on my wrist was unwringable like iron.

"I can't dance!" I floundered desperately.

A fact, I had two left feet and I never danced. Maybe it was time to change that. Whispered my inner voice

"Too late," Nico grinned as he dragged me further into the crowd. "Anyone can dance believe me, just follow me."

So I did, correction I tried. Nico's hands grabbed mine firmly and made me spin around in an arc.

Music sounded loud through the speakers and I let the rhythm and Nico's hands carry me. For a moment I forgot everything, Zoë.

I don't know how but somehow I came with my rear pressed against Nico's front and moved along with the tempo of the music. The little alcohol began to do its work.

Nico's mouth came to my ear. He had to shout to get above the music. "Little liar," he breathed out hard against my ear. "You can dance."

I laughed softly. "Everyone lies sometimes." Nico's hands found their way to my hips as he made an assenting sound.

I was hot, far too hot all of a sudden. Whether that was because of Nico's rough hands or the suffocating pile of sweating bodies around me I didn't know.

My ears began to ring and it was like everything was too close, almost claustrophobic. It was a suffocating feeling.

"Nico" I managed to utter as I pulled away from him. Everything started spinning. "I need fresh air."

Afraid I was going to fall I grabbed hold of Nico's shoulder who was looking at me with concern, but everything seemed so blurry.

"Zoe? Is everything okay?"

"No." I didn't recognize my voice. My throat was too dry and droplets of sweat slipped down my neck in a flash. I felt Nico's hands leading me through the people out, away from the dance floor.

"I'll take you outside with me, don't worry." Nico reassured me.

We walked down a long hallway. A red light shone brightly in my eyes and I had to struggle to distinguish shapes. My legs were like lead.

Zoë, I had to find Zoë. I wasn't going to leave her alone in this club. Before I could say anything my image fell away with patches, briefly. My hands grabbed at the wall next to me where I fell gently against it.

Nico held me tightly. Between moments when my image fell away I could see Nico looking down at me. His previously warm blue eyes were now cold.

What worried me most was the grin his white teeth revealed. My mind screamed for me to get out of here, but my body abandoned me.

A man emerged from one of the rooms of the corridor. Details I could not make out, only his broad silouhette was visible in the dirty red light.

"Just take her." Said Nico to the new man. "He will be more than satisfied with this, Maksim."

Who was this he?

The man he called Maksim nodded gently. "Did you find the other girl, too?"

I ordered my eyes to stay open, but my eyelids felt like lead. Could the other girl be Zoe? I fervently hoped not.

Nico had put something in my drink it couldn't be otherwise. I felt incredibly stupid.

"Yes, Lucas took her for his account. She was too easy. Just like this one." Nico crouched in front of me and grabbed my chin roughly. "Isn't it, baby."

I wanted to scream, run, hit him, anything. So I did what came closest and would give me some satisfaction.

I spat in his face.

Horrified, he wiped the threads of saliva from his mask and face with his hand.

"b***h," He hissed. A sharp pain followed from the blow to my face. I moaned softly, shifting the pain to the background.

"Control yourself Nico." Snarled Maksim. "We had to hand her over undamaged."

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until the sticky threads of sleep pulled me further and further away.

I could just barely make out how Nico released my chin and stood up abruptly. Both men looked down at me, and the last thing I saw were Nico's icy eyes under the red light.

"Sleep tight, Dupont." Hushed Nico.

Images of Zoë flashed by, along with memories from our childhood. How we both had long blond hair and green eyes. We were often impossible to tell apart, like two peas in a pod.

I could only think of one thing.Whoever they were, they had the wrong one.

Then everything went black.