Demons of Abyss - Retribution

Chapter 6

Elea

I'm still standing in this damn inner courtyard. Around me, Demons, as far as the eye can see. Among them, a lot of women in skirts, so short that you could call it a belt. Some girls actually seem to enjoy it, others just have this emptiness in their eyes. I try to control my breathing and pretend to look around just a little bit, but my muscles just won't relax. There's a storm raging inside me that I can barely bring under control.

"Hey baby, do you wanna have some fun with me and her?"

Someone roughly grabs my ass. Ready to attack, I turn around and look into the bald guy's bloodshot eyes. That greasy guy from earlier. With his fingers, he roughly grips the girl's arm. There is fear in her face. I don't know how she ended up here, but I suspect she's one of the girls they get with their weekly delivery. Girls who first seek adventure and then are drugged and distributed to the whorehouses. They are treated like a piece of trash. Are taken. Are broken. Ben told me everything he could find out about the Demons, and it almost made me puke. That's why I can't control my rising rage. My trained instinct leaves me no other choice. I roughly grab his hand, as he wants to touch me again. I squeeze his fingers together and twist them. There is a crack and he cries out. The girl backs away fearfully as he lets go of her to reach for me with his other hand. He tries to punch me, but I dodge. He's too fat. Too slow. I lunge and hit him in the soft parts with my knee. He goes down, writhing like a fetus. In my fury, I'm about to lunge at him when someone pulls me back roughly and yanks me to the ground. It is a burly guy against whom I also struggle. In the corner of my eye, I spot another guy. I jump up. Then I swing a punch and hit the first one in his ribs. My other fist hits his larynx, whereupon he topples to the side, gasping. After that, I get ready for the attack of the other one. But then a thought shoots through my head. What am I doing? I'm blown. I'm going to blow my chance. They won't let me back in if I show them I'm no ordinary club slut. So I reluctantly lower my arms. I have to get out of here. Right after that, I hear and see Kilian. He puts a smile on his lips, a smile that hides rage. You only notice this if you really know Kilian.

"Hey, I told you to have fun, but not this kind of fun. Sorry guys, she's just a wildcat."

Apologetically, he shrugs his shoulders and walks towards me. He grabs me roughly by my upper arm and pulls me to his side. The one guy who rushed to the fat guy's aid comes at me angrily. He's only a few inches taller than me and not as strongly built as the other guy. I could take him out. I would defeat him. But I hold myself back. Especially when Kilian stands protectively in front of me and raises his hands up defensively.

"Hey dude, we don't want any trouble. She's got it all wrong up there," he taps his finger against his forehead to clarify his words, "I didn't realize she'd already coked half her brains out."

"That little b***h is going to pay."

That was the fat guy who has now picked himself up and is glaring at me vindictively. At this point, I have to muster all my strength not to wring his flabby neck after all. Only Kilian's grip around my wrist holds me back.

A crowd has already formed around us. They all stare at us as if they would slaughter us at any moment. I have no idea how we are going to get out of here in one piece. Although I didn't grow up in an MC, I know that these guys don't put up with anything and every offense is punished. And I just beat up two of them.

"Is there a problem?"

A deep voice drowns out all the others. I look in the direction the voice is coming from and see everyone respectfully making way for the owner of the voice. It's almost as if the king himself is coming. Glancing at the man, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It's the guy, who stopped me from helping the girl, just a few minutes ago. He strides through the crowd as if he can have anything he wants. As if everything is waiting for his orders.

Unlike before, not a trace of emotion could be seen on his face. His dark eyes scowl at me. For a moment, time seems to stand still.

"Yes, there is, West. This cunt is out of her mind. She needs to be punished."

"Booze, you already have a cunt and if you let another one beat you up like a p***y, that's your problem, but not mine and not the club's."

Restrained laughter can be heard from the bystanders, which probably makes Booze even angrier.

"Charly wouldn't hesitate to make her pay."

The guy, that Booze, looks at West provocatively. However, West has his facial expressions under better control than the fat guy.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, a Vice decides when the President isn't here, so either you shut the f**k up or you get the f**k out."

Booze turns white as a sheet and nods Wests words like a coward. Immediately, West's dark eyes turn to me. I think I can detect disgust in his gaze before he turns to Kilian. As he speaks, the tattoo on his larynx catches my attention. A raven that moves with every word.

"Get out of here. I don't want to see her here again, got it?"

Kilian nods and manages a smile despite West's fearsome figure.

"Got it."

Kilian grabs my upper arm and turns to leave with me. He literally pulls me after him through the crowd of people, who also reverently clear a path for him. Honestly, I'd be avoiding Kilian, too, if I didn't know him. I would like to free myself from his grip, but then I would risk his life. So I let myself be pulled through the gate to the machine. Once there, he angrily swings his leg over the bike and points his thumb behind him. A sign that I should climb on. Never have I closed the fastener of the helmet quicker than now. I hop behind Kilian. He pushes the machine back and takes off. I just manage to wrap my hands around his waist. I feel his tense abs under my palms. Just as I can feel his anger as if it were my own. I just f****d up. Really. s**t. The whole ride, I think about it. Until we stop in front of a run-down apartment block. Kilian parks the machine in a side street. His Silence hunts me, as we get off the machine. I can't take it and bring an "I'm sorry" over my lips. "I just lost it. I saw red and couldn't control myself."

His silence as he turns away and marches with quick steps toward the entrance, makes me nervous. Some of the many buttons on the doorbells on the wall have fallen out or are over sprayed with black. The front door, which is open, already has several cracks in the green glass. I follow Kilian upstairs. Our footsteps echo in the barren stairwell. Although Kilian has never talked much, it frightens me, now that he has not yet brought a single word past his lips. It makes me feel even more miserable. He must understand that I didn't do it on purpose. I have to make him clear, that the most important thing to me is the death of the person, who killed my parents. That, if the Word DEMONS appears, my brain shuts down. And I have to realize that I have to work on it. I can't afford to make a mistake like that. I can't let my anger control me so much.

We stop in front of a door with the number seventeen. Where the seven is barely legible. Kilian takes a key out of his pockets and opens it. I follow him. When the door closes, he finally turns around. But the coldness in his eyes makes me shiver. Veins stand out on his neck.

"What were you thinking?" He snorts angrily before running a hand over his head. "Damn, we'll be lucky if they didn't follow us and find out what we're really up to."

I only manage a dejected nod.

"I'm sorry, I got crazy. I can't think of anything else but my revenge."

I detect a soft, "So do I", as he turns and flips a switch, whereupon a single light bulb casts a dull light on the bare walls of a corridor. But what interests me most right now, are his words, "So am I."

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer me, but leads me into a room with an old couch in the middle. Except for this couch and a few old wooden boxes, the room is empty. I wonder how he got to this place. But what interests me even more is the meaning of his words. He sits down and leans back while he reaches for a knife that has been lying on a wooden crate. Then he turns it and looks at the blade, which he holds in the air, reflecting the pale light.

"Sit down."

There is something scary in his voice. He speaks more quietly, more threateningly. His words were not a polite request, they sounded like an order. I feel a little queasy, and yet I sit down diagonally opposite him. We are separated by only about eight feet and my gut tells me to be careful. I have no idea what's coming next, because Kilian looks like he's about to kill someone.

"I have a score to settle as well."

Involuntarily, I slide back a bit and brace myself for an attack. The mood is tense. It's no longer the Kilian who trained with me. Not the Kilian who helped me. He has nothing in common with the Kilian who now looks at me with cold eyes. I am actually afraid. Not of what he might do to me, because I might have been wrong about him.

"Can you still remember the last moment with your mother?"

I nod, feeling the pain as I remember. The image of her, lying on the wet asphalt. Bleeding. Her eyes blank.

"I remember her lying in a mixture of her own vomit and blood. Eyes wide open."

I involuntarily feel sick at the image that cascades into my head. Kilian drills the tip of the knife into his palm and I see a tiny bit of blood gathering in it. It's as if the pain is the only thing helping him to calm down. He struggles with himself. It is visibly difficult for him to continue speaking. A sad smile is reflected on his features before he looks back up at me through dark lashes.

"I was four, and I did not understand what was happening. All I know is that someone came to our apartment. He said I had to go to my room and take my little brother, who was just about two years old at the time. I can only dimly remember that. I heard loud voices. Someone was arguing. Then it got quiet and I waited. My brother started screaming. I tried to calm him down. But he didn't stop and one of those men came. He grabbed him and wanted to take him away. I screamed and jumped on him. Although I only vaguely remember the other things, I still remember what it was like when the knife cut across my face. I can still feel it today when I sleep. The burning. The pulsing. I hear my own screams and my brother's. They gave me this."

He points his index finger at the scar that stretches across his face.

"They took my brother, probably killed him. My mother, she was on the couch. There was blood and vomit everywhere. I knew, that she didn't kill herself, that it was these men. But the police kept telling me that it was an overdose and that my brother was nowhere to be found. No one ever looked for him. After a lower class boy whose mother was a drug addict. After dozens of foster homes, I ran away. I lived on the streets and made myself a name with small scams. At some point, I was the first contact when it came to making people disappear. That's the reason I know exactly wich injuries lead to death. I know how to kill someone efficiently, and I also know how to make it look like someone killed themselves." He leans forward and his voice softens. "You know what's fascinating about that. One of the men who killed my mother that day had a tattoo on his forearm...intertwined horns over a skull."

"The mark of the Demons."

I feel a dull tug in my stomach as I bring the name past my lips. Kilian nods and pushes the knife even further into his flesh. He doesn't even flinch at this.

"I tried to track down the one who killed my mother and kidnapped my brother, but no one knew anything about it. Not even the members of the Demons, whom I intercepted and tortured. Then I came across your father's name in the research. He was the president of the Demons when it happened, but he disappeared. However, some of the members I caught could remember the fight with the Shadows, your grandfather's club. They said Silas had run off with your mother and never showed up again. So the only logical conclusion was that the Shadows must know where he was. I wanted to confront him. Wanted to know what they had done to him. Because a president should know about such things. Then, when I showed up at your place under false pretenses, I found out from Bear that he'd been executed by Charly." Now honest compassion appears in his eyes. "I was desperate, Silas was the last hope to find out what they did to my brother. All my life long I've been looking for answers and then hope crumbles like a house of cards. I was done and when Bear offered me a Deal to take out some people who were causing Joe problems, I agreed. I needed a change, and somehow I ended up staying with you guys. But the question of what happened to my brother still haunts me. Every night and in every dream I have." He leans back and drills the knife into his palm again. Murderous lust flashes in his eyes. "The only person I haven't gotten to yet, is Charly. He was Silas' vice back then, and I'm sure he must know something about it. So it was obvious that you have the same goals as me."

Shocked, I stare at him.

"That's why you're here. You didn't really want to help me."

He shakes his head and his expression hardens again.

"I was trying to help you. I could have got to the club on my own. But it benefits, that you were by my side. We were less conspicuous that way...until you decided to beat up the bald guy."

He shakes his head and smiles guardedly. I feel simultaneously used and yet more connected to him. He's never told me anything about himself. He's never talked about his past. But right now, I see the pain in his eyes. And damn, I understand him so well. He also had to witness something that was not meant for the innocent eyes of a child.

"Okay, so what's our plan now?"