Wildfire

(03)

Kenneth Deora

I walked and walked till I didn't even know where I was.

This place was almost a palace. Fountains, and gigantic balconies. This was so beautiful that looking at it from the outside could cause it to be tarnished.

I didn't know who owned this, but I have never seen them. Never in my 28 years of life has this place been up for sale.

The word in the street is that this place belongs to someone from the mafia, but I've never been one to believe such rumors. 

The mention of the mafia brings a familiar face to my mind before I brush it off. You still can't get her out of her head. Says who? Your inner fucking monologue. You can shut up now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a scream and cursed myself for immediately recognizing the voice.

You remember her voice don't you? It's a recognizable voice. No it's not. But YOU still recognized it. Fair enough.

I forced myself to walk away.

No matter how much I walked her scream still haunted me.  

Maybe she's fucking someone and having a really good time? No. But what if- Shut up.

My feet walked back to the same mansion almost out of my control only coming to a stop at the sight of two guards patrolling the large metal gates.  

I walk up to one them, his eyes pinning me in place with a glare. "Who are you and what's your business here?" 

"Kenneth Deora. Missing transaction." I show him an old file with a few missing pages from it. He gave me one last glare before letting me walk in.

I knocked on her door. Once. Twice. No response. You know how to pick locks don't you?. I do. Then fucking do it. Took me a while to figure it out but soon enough the locked clicked and the door fell ajar. Turns out a mafia guy doesn't own this palace. A mafia woman does.

The room was a mess. Torn Paper and, burnt cigarettes everywhere. She was on the floor, bleeding and surrounded by broken mirrors.

The only sign of life was her violent trembling. I was unable to move. Even her fear was violent.

I picked her up and we reached her private clinic in no time. I assumed the doctor live with her because this place was too massive for a single person. 

She was mumbling something like an apology in my arms which I don't think it was directed to me.

Mariana Montanari

I was still in the basement; the glass from beer bottles digging into my legs. The air in the basement cold and overwhelmed with the stench of beer making my insides turn but after being confined here for so long I'd gotten used to it. 

His hands gripped me making my muscles twitch in fear. I instinctively pushed away from him only for him to come closer. 

Running away wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to clean me. To make me human again.

I tried to control my shaking but I couldn't. Every muscle in me was as taut as it could go.

"Don't move Mary. You're disappointing me with all that shaking."

"I- I'm sorry. I can't control it."

"Of course you can't." He said, pushing me on the table. "Now stay still." He spat.