ʏᴀɴɴɪ | ᴏ.ꜱʜᴏᴛᴀʀᴏ

-Keep Walking-

‼️

"So, what were you doing with him?"

Your leg was bouncing as a means to pace your nerves, your fingers gripping the cuff of your sleeve. You kept your eyes on the road, however, trying to block out Mark's voice.

The death grip he now had on your bicep proved that task to be difficult, though.

"I know you heard me, Yanaida."

"What's it to you?"

Mark turned to you like you started speaking Simlish, his eyebrows taut in a frown. "Well, you're out here getting drinks and shit with some fucking clown when you're supposed to be out here getting my money! The money that you fucking lost last night!"

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a thick roll of money, and tossed it into his lap without a word, your eyes still set on the road.

"Sixteen-hunnit." You murmured. "Makes up for tonight and last night."

Mark looked down at the money and chuckled. "You got this shit from him, didn't you?"

"The problem is?" You closed your eyes to level your temper. "A client is a client – you gettin' pissy for what?"

Mark took his hands off the steering wheel to wrap one around your throat.

"Who the fuck do you think you're getting smart with?" His eyes darkened at you. "You're forgetting I'm the one driving this car – I could easily swerve this bitch off the road and kill us both..."

"Do it then, fuck-nigga..." You forced out a low giggle. "You clipped the only person I ever cared about – why not finish me too?"

Mark sort of faltered in his movements, but his hand never left your neck.

"Matter of fact, you're forgettin' I got two hands, bitch..." You giggled lowly again. "I'll take that wheel and do us both a fuckin' favor..."

"You're high," The truck soon came to a stop, and Mark turned on the overhead light to look you dead in the face. "Aren't you?"

"Man, please..." You rolled your eyes and smacked your teeth. "Where the fuck are we?"

"...You'll see." Mark reached over to open your door, pushing you to get out.

He had parked in front of a single-story house on a street you couldn't recognize, and you felt Mark grab your wrist to lead you down the concrete pathway up to the house.

"This her?" You heard a female voice ask. Mark nodded and handed the woman at the front door a fifty-dollar bill, passing her with his grip still tight around your wrist.

Before you could get the chance to scope your surroundings, you felt a sharp prick to your bicep, like someone had pinched you without your knowledge.

But the sting hadn't subsided yet, prompting you to look down at your right arm and you could make out the body of a syringe poking out of the side of your bicep.

Your eyes darted upward, locking onto Mark just centimeters from your face. "Keep walking."

You went to take a step forward, feeling a surge of electricity jolt up your leg, followed by a pins and needles sensation. Your body felt heavier with every passing second, and your vision was starting to blur and darken.

"What...the fuck did you-?"

"Shut up and keep walking," Mark repeated himself, plunging the mystery liquid further into your arm.

Now your feet were starting to drag – you lost feeling in everything except your face, but you still couldn't figure out why or how.

"About time you came back, bro. We were startin' to get impatient..." A husky male voice groaned to Mark. "Goddamn, what'd you do to her?"

"Nothing. Just made sure she wouldn't start some shit." The two men exchanged hands – Mark passed you to the mystery man, and he dropped fifty grand into Mark's palm.

Who the mystery man was, you couldn't tell, nor could you bring yourself to care since your mind was occupied with trying to figure out what the fuck Mark had pricked you with.

Considering how hot and heavy your body became, you knew it was some kind of drug, but what drug it was and how much of it was in your system was unknown to you.

You knew it wasn't clashing well with the pills, though...

You ended up stumbling into a bedroom with a group of four different men, one of them dragging you to the bed sitting in the middle of the small room.

"Woah, easy, baby girl," One of the men held you upright. "Wouldn't want you hurtin' yourself..."

Another man turned to lock the door, giving Mark a look as if saying, "Give us a minute."

Mark stared at the door for a few seconds, but then walked away, grabbing at a nearby handle of Hennessy as he took a seat on a nearby couch.

~One Hour Later...~

"Aye, bro, we're done."

Mark slowly looked up at the door again, one of the men stepping out while fastening his belt. "You might wanna check on her, though..."

"What does that mean?" Mark partially slurred.

"I was about to finish up with her, and she just fuckin' went limp; she ain't movin' or breathin' or nothin'." The man explained. "I think whatever you gave her made her OD."

Mark stood upon hearing that last sentence, pushing the man out of his way, the Hennessy bottle still gripped tight in his fist.

When he stepped inside the room, the rest of the men were still surrounding and hovering over you – one of them even tried slapping your cheeks and shaking you, but you were still lying on your back, motionless.

Mark immediately sprung into action, peeling the men off of the bed and handing one of them his bottle. "Go wait out there. And lock the door."

The man nodded, and the other two followed him out. Once Mark heard the telltale click of the door's lock turning, he moved to turn you on your side.

He reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a packaged syringe, and he ripped the plastic open with his teeth before plunging the needle into your arm. Then he slipped two fingers down your throat in an attempt to open your airways.

Luckily, Mark's attempt succeeded – about thirty seconds later, he heard you begin to gag, and he moved out of the way just in time for you to vomit over the side of the bed.

Grimacing, Mark pulled the needle out of your arm, discarding it in a tiny trash can by the door as he waited for you to finish your vomiting fit.

You eventually calmed down after a minute or two, and color was starting to come back to your face. Mark picked up on that and kneeled over the bed, observing you in your lethargic state.

You made a very sore effort to lift yourself off the bed but were pushed back down by Mark.

"You're not done yet."

Through the fogginess you were experiencing, you smelt a strong odor of liquor oozing off of Mark, the potency stinging your nostrils.

Then you heard a belt clink, followed by what sounded like a zipper being unzipped,

And you couldn't do anything but close your eyes as you already knew what was about to take place...

~~~~