Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: teeth - five seconds of summer
✵────────[ ✵ ]────────✵
Footsteps echoed ominously through the empty alley, each sharp click of red heels a metronome of menace. The kneeling man, his face a battered mosaic of blood and bruises, stared at the cold, unforgiving pavement. He groaned, the sound of his pain swallowed by the oppressive night.
For half an hour, he'd endured the relentless assault, pummeled without understanding the why or the who behind it. All he knew was the question: 'Do you know the Economic League?' His hesitation had been his downfall. Rough hands had seized him, thrown him into a car, and now he knelt here, broken and bewildered.
"Why... why are you doing this?" His voice wavered, as unsteady as his head, still reeling from the brutal blows. "I—I know nothing..."
A derisive scoff cut through the darkness above him, followed by the distinct flick of a lighter. He forced his swollen eyes upward, and they widened in shock as they met the honey-green gaze of a straw-blonde woman. She held a cigarette between crimson lips, a cruel smirk playing on her face.
"Know nothing about what, Mr. Sterling?" Her tone dripped with condescension. "You don't even know what I want, and already you claim ignorance?"
The woman took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember flaring brightly in the dim light. She exhaled a cloud of smoke that curled around her like a serpent before dissipating into the night.
"My name," she began, her voice a silken dagger mixed with her gypsy accent, "is Marianna James."
She took a step closer, the sound of her heels striking the pavement like gunshots.
"You see, Mr. Sterling, I find it amusing when men like you think they can stumble through life without consequence. Ignorance," she paused, letting the word hang in the air, "isn't a shield. It's a weapon for those who wield it and a noose for those who don't."
Sterling's head throbbed, the woman's words slicing through the fog of his pain. "I don't understand... Please, just tell me what you want."
Marianna knelt down, bringing her face level with his. Her perfume was a sharp contrast to the alley's stench, a reminder of a world he was no longer a part of. "What I want, Mr. Sterling, is simple. Information. Your life can continue in its miserable little way if you tell me what I need to know about the Economic League." Her hand reached out, gripping his chin with surprising strength, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. "But if you continue to play the fool, then your suffering has only just begun."
