ToxiQue

Horrors of Havana

The night outside had thickened into darkness, and Felix could hear the faint scruffles and murmurs through the walls. The room around him stirred to life as his roommate shifted, waking up and bustling about. It was like the entire space came alive. People were moving in and out, cleaning themselves, preparing, as if the night to them was day. They were all like bats, thriving in the dark hours, as if drawn to the energy of the night.

Felix slid off his bed and quietly made his way to the hallway, peeking out into the dim corridors. The halls buzzed with activity. He saw people walking back and forth, their hurried steps echoing off the walls. At the far end of the hallway stood Lilay, shouting like a commander leading a battalion, her voice cutting through the hum of voices.

"Ok, ok people! Let’s go, let’s go. Move it. Let’s ready ourselves!" Her tone was sharp and demanding, driving the crowd like a drill sergeant.

Then, as if sensing his gaze, Lilay's eyes locked onto Felix. She paused, then made her way toward him with determined strides. "Felix, come with me," she said, her voice softened now but edged with urgency.

She led him upstairs through yet another crowded corridor, the air thick with energy and tension. Felix, struggling to keep up with her pace, looked around, perplexed by the flurry of activity.

"Lilay… What are all these people doing? Why is everyone so busy tonight?" Felix asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Lilay didn’t meet his eyes this time. Her response came weakly, almost as if she wanted to avoid the truth. "Yeah… Just come with me."

They arrived at a large dressing room, filled with women applying makeup and adjusting their clothes, their garments shimmering under the low lights. The outfits were strange, revealing, doing little to cover their bodies. It made Felix’s stomach churn with unease. Something was wrong.

Lilay guided him to a seat and sat beside him. "Okay… let’s get you ready."

Felix’s heart pounded as dread clawed its way into his chest. He glanced around, his fear growing as the reality of the room began to sink in. "Ready for what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with fear.

"Felix… don’t be troublesome," Lilay warned, her tone firm but worried. "Just do as I say before Madam Leya arrives, or you and I will be in some serious trouble."

Lilay grabbed Felix's shirt with a firm tug, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Take this off," she said demandingly.

Felix recoiled, clutching his shirt tighter. "No! I don’t want to… Can you just explain to me what’s happening?" His voice trembled with both confusion and fear.

"Felix…" Lilay’s voice dropped, a note of frustration creeping in.
"We have no time to waste, okay? Remember what I told you. Just do as I say so you don’t get into trouble. Trust me."

Her hands moved swiftly, helping Felix remove his shirt despite his hesitations. Piece by piece, she dressed him, her movements mechanical and rushed, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. Felix stood awkwardly as she pulled a red crop top over his head, the fabric snug against his chest, exposing his belly button. It irritated his skin, and the sight of it made him cringe. The pants she gave him had deliberate cuts that showed his thighs—too much skin, too demeaning. Felix stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection foreign, and hatred bubbled up inside him.

"C’mon now," Lilay said briskly, grabbing a comb. "Let me do your hair."

She worked with swift, practiced motions, edging his hair and adorning it with dangling crystals that caught the dim light. Felix felt more and more out of place with every touch, every change. Without warning, Lilay pierced his ears, the sharp pain jolting him.

"Ouch! That hurts," Felix hissed, grabbing his ear.

"Don’t worry, it’ll heal," Lilay said nonchalantly,. One shouldnt be prone to pain here. You should learn to tame it even when it's coursing through you. Her focus never breaking. "Madam Leya wants everyone to have at least one piercing."

She leaned in, gently blowing on the fresh wound before pulling away. "Don’t touch it," she commanded, her tone sharp as she turned back to the table cluttered with cosmetics. She grabbed a set of brushes. "Let’s do your makeup."

Meanwhile, the world outside of Felix’s small, terrifying reality moved on. The vast expanse of Havana was buzzing with activity, crowded with wealthy guests sprawled across the enormous, decadent lower floor. Chandeliers glowed above, casting a luxurious sheen over the demonic scene, a place consumed by lust and depravity. Women, barely covered, danced on poles for the entertainment of those who indulged in every vice imaginable.

On the upper floors, horrors lurked behind closed doors—rooms for "guest accommodations," where unspeakable acts were performed on young men and women, the weak and the lost. The prisoners of Havana, their souls caged within its dark, illegal walls, run by the notorious Madam Leya. She sat in her grand, throne-like chair, her massive figure commanding attention. A cigar rested between her fingers, a smirk permanently etched on her face. Why wouldn’t she smile? Her empire was built on the misery of those too young to escape it. The men that filled her club were not here for entertainment but for exploitation, indulging in a wickedness that she eagerly facilitated.

Each young person in this place, including Felix, was nothing more than prey to feed the appetites of monsters.

“All done,” Lilay said softly, stepping back to admire her work. She turned Felix toward the mirror, revealing his face now covered with makeup that accentuated his features—his sharp cheekbones, full lips, and deep eyes. His beauty was undeniable, yet the sight of him drained of all emotion was haunting.

Lilay’s smile faltered as she caught Felix’s reflection. His face, once full of life, was now blank, his eyes hollow. The contrast between his outward beauty and the emptiness inside gnawed at her. She stopped, standing still, feeling a wave of remorse wash over her. But there was nothing she could do. This all had to be done. She couldn’t lie to Felix, couldn’t promise him freedom. Once you became part of Madam Leya’s world, there was no way out. Ever.

Lilay knew this too well. She had been here since she was 16, sold by her parents in exchange for a piece of land—a cruel bargain that cost her the future she once dreamed of. She had been in Havana long enough to witness the fates of those who tried to escape or defy Leya. They didn’t live to see another day. Lilay had learned, painfully, to survive by taking care of the younger ones, just like Felix. Some were even younger than him, barely 15, and they, too, were consumed by the horrors of this place.

As much as she hated it, the only way Felix could survive was by following the rules. And she had to help him.

With a heavy heart, Lilay spoke, her voice breaking the thick silence between them. “Felix…” She gently turned his chair so that he was facing her directly. “After I get ready, we’ll go downstairs to entertain the guests. Okay?”

Felix didn’t respond. His lips quivered, and he fought back a sob, the weight of what was happening sinking in. He understood now, the unspoken truth hanging in the air between them. He nodded, his face tight as he muffled a cry, his heart heavy with dread.

Lilay’s grip tightened on his hand, her eyes softening with a rare kindness. “Stay by my side, always,” she whispered, as much a plea as it was a command. Without waiting for an answer, she turned away to prepare herself. It was time for her to get ready.

The night outside buzzed with anticipation, and downstairs, the guests awaited their entertainment—oblivious to the souls being slowly devoured inside the walls of Havana.