Claimed By Sin: Father Levi

Chapter Nine: Release

Kanara

The broccoli sat steaming in front of my face, creating a slick film of condensation on my fork. My fingers trembled as I struggled picking up my utensils. It’s only been a week and a half since he sicked his dogs on me. My skin was healing slowly due to him restricting my diet. I wasn’t allowed to eat meat. Only salads, fruits and vegetables which were all given in controlled portions.

I winced as the skin under my arm pulled while I moved. The incision they made to yank out my birth control screamed at me. I was forced to wear long sleeves until it healed, the brutality of the procedure left a palm sized bruise. My lips wavered as tears pricked against my lids.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of my father…” Dmitriy hissed in my ear. I nodded, picking up my fork and bringing the bland food up to my mouth. My teeth clanked against the silver as I kept my eyes focused on the table.

“So Dmitriy, how’s the club going?” The Russian accent of his father hit my ears, sending waves of uneasiness through me.

“Honestly, it’s frustrating. We are competing against the Gotti family.” Dmitriy responded, leaning back in his chair. I glanced up, looking around the table.

In front of me was Nikolai Mikhailov, Dmitriy's father, who was a middle aged man who had a hard face riddled with age lines and scars. To his left sat his beautiful mother, Natasha Mikhailov. Her hair was a golden blonde, her skin smooth and silky. she had blue eyes just like her son. Next to her sat the youngest of the family, Ivan Mikhailov. He just turned nineteen, his upper body that peeked through his shirt was already littered in tattoos.

“Then let me at them brother…” Ivan’s voice was rough, like how I’d imagine gravel sounded if it could speak. Sweat pricked at my brow. Being in the presence of these people who decided my fate left my nerves on end.

“No, I don’t need you just yet.” Dmitriy reached out grabbing his glass.

“Come on, you know we have to hit them hard before they hit us.” Ivan cracked his knuckles, rolling his neck.

“I agree, but you’re– an ubiysta* brother. I do not wish to use you unless it’s necessary."

*assassin*

“I agree with Dmitriy, Ivan. Strategy is better than brute force.” Nikolai cut into his steak, the juice pouring out of the meat. My eyes stayed on the perfectly cooked item, my mouth pooling with spit as they continued.

“Pfft–I’m the best ubiysta. You think I’d not take them out quietly?” Ivan scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Actually Koschei is the best…” Natasha’s sweet voice slid over the table. The air immediately fell silent, the tension filled the room as her eyes widened.

“I’m sorry–” She whispered.

“Koschei is a myth mother.” Ivan grumbled, leaning on his elbow while he looked at her. I glanced up, looking at Nikolai. His face was stone, his jaw tight as he gripped his fork. He took a deep breath through his nostrils, then placed his silverware down.

“Koschei does not exist, Natasha. He’s a scary story that’s told to keep children in line.”

“W–What’s a Koschei?” I stammered out. Dmitriy groaned, frowning at me. I froze, realizing I spoke when I shouldn’t have. My blood ran cold as he clenched his first.

“Settle down son, it’s a valid question from an outsider.” His father sighed, snapping Dmitriy out of his rage. He nodded towards Nikolai, dropping his gaze.

“Koschei is a deathless man. He roams our motherland Russia, taking down cities who defy him. We tell this to children to keep them in line. ‘Better come in by the time the sun sets, or Koschei will get you.’” He chuckled, taking a piece of meat up to his lips. “He is a myth we tell to our– assassins as well. Aspire to be a Koschei, a demon of the night who slides in and out of houses silently.”

“Yes, it stemmed from an assassin who was considered a prodigy. Its stated he is impervious to pain. He is the monster you call when you want the messiest jobs done, silently.” Natasha added on, sipping her cup. Nikolai shot her a look as Ivan shook his head.

“Again, a myth. The supposed man who could do this disappeared ten years ago. If he was real, why leave?” Ivan shrugged, tucking his hands behind his head as he leaned back. “I know I wouldn’t.”

I chewed my lip, as that information filled my head. A man like that can get me out of my predicament…

“ Enough with silly stories, lets finish this up and continue with our evening.” Dmitriy gestured toward the table for everyone to continue to eat. Tucking my head down, I picked up my fork and continued with my plate.

Dinner went by fairly quickly. They continued their conversation in Russian, making me isolated as I know none of that language. I was just considered an extra body, no one included me in anything other than that small conversation about Koschei.

The night dragged one once dinner was done. I was dragged around to sit next to Dmitriy as his father and him continued their conversations. Natasha and Ivan left early. I sat staring at the art that littered the walls while the two talked.

I miss painting, my room was full of canvases I slid acrylic on. Looking down at my torn hand, my lip quivered as the thought of not being able to hold a brush again filled my mind. My limb was shredded by that mutt, and this family didn’t care about the damage I endured. They had their hack of a doctor stitch me up and slap a bandage on it instead of taking me to the hospital.

Ringing filled my head, my chest grew tight as my lips pursed together. My life is over– and this is my reality.

“Excuse me– I need to use the restroom.” I whispered out, keeping my head low. I got the nod of approval from Dmitriy before I rose. With a nod in return, I turned on my heel and headed to the bathroom that sat on the second floor. The room we were in was the library, which was at the end of the house and far away from his room. If I even attempted to go to his bedroom without him, I’d get slapped. He thinks I would try to hide from these interactions. He’s right to think that, because I would.

I dragged my feet down the hall, trying to take my time without wasting too much. I reached the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the second floor. Sighing, I placed one foot in front of each other, hauling myself up the marble flooring. My mind spun as I climbed the steps, my body didn’t want to move. I don’t blame it, with the amount of abuse I’ve had inflicted on me, I’m surprised I’m even able to move.

Landing at the top of the stairs, I paused, looking over my shoulder. Throwing myself down these might actually kill me if I tried hard enough. I shook my head, no. I needed something that would be more– permanent.

I continued forward, my heart aching with each step as I walked by Dmitriy’s office. I halted while passing by, his door was open. I stood there staring into the room that had a desk placed in the middle. It was messy, there were papers strewn everywhere. Taking a breath, I turned to continue to the restroom. A glint caught my eye, making me turn back to the room.

Sitting on the desk was a pair of scissors. My jaw tightened as my eyes landed on the item. My mind was screaming at me to take it. I found myself taking a step forward, entering the room. I pushed forward, reaching the desk. My fingers shot out, grabbing it and stuffing it into my pocket. Blood was rushing through my veins as I hurriedly left, turning right and continuing to the restroom. My vision was shaky as I entered the bathroom, closing the door and locking it.

I stumbled backward, plopping down on the toilet seat as I sucked in sharp short breaths. What do I do now?

Pulling the item out of my pocket, I held it in front of me. The tips were sharp and pristine, the edges smooth but could easily slice through flesh. I wouldn’t be able to use these to kill him. Even if I managed too, I’d surely be killed for retaliating. I glided my finger over the edge, slicing my fingertip with ease. Blood spilled over the tip, as I stared.

My mind landed on the only option I could think of to escape this–hell.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked up at the ceiling.

“God– please forgive me.” I sobbed as I sat there, holding the scissors in my hands. I leaned forward, placing my head between my knees as a wave of nausea rushed over me. My fingers grew shaky as my knee bounced, sweat slicking my palms while I chewed my lip. I leaned back, opening the item, flipping it and sticking the tip of the metal into my wrist.

Panic washed over me as my mind raced. What if I can be saved? What if it doesn’t work? Sniffles erupted out of my throat as I choked on my own crying. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I have too, I have no other choice. I refuse to be used, defiled and beaten for the rest of my life. Squeezing my eyes shut, I dug the metal into my vein, pulling down quickly horizontally. Bitting down on my lip to hold in my scream, I felt a warmth spill out over my forearm.

I peaked through my lids, seeing the crimson river from my skin spill onto the brilliant white flooring. As it stained the grout, a smile spread from my lips. I fumbled with the scissors, getting them into my mutilated right hand. I gripped the best I could as my vision started getting blurry. I managed to wrap my digits around the handle, sticking the tip into my other vein. I winced as I pulled down, my skin splitting as more red liquid flooded out, dribbling down over my arms.

Sliding down off the toilet, I sat on the cool tile. My head flopped back as I smiled up at the bright light that illuminated the white room. Closing my eyes, my heart raced as the thought of me meeting my mother after all these years slipped through my mind.