The Dark Side

Prologue

I watched my stiletto-clad feet taking step, after step, after step. The stiletto's were killing my feet, but I knew that was the least of my problems now. My gaze wandered around suspiciously and carefully. Suspicious enough to keep an eye on possible danger, but careful enough not to make too much eye contact with anyone.

Colombia is everything like I expected it to be. Which is basically nothing I'm used to. It was scary, yeah, and I wasn't afraid to admit that. Hell, I wasn't afraid to admit anything at this point in life- the possible end of it, that is.

I noticed a group of young men on a corner, discussing something hushedly. There is no way those lads are up to any good. Then again, I expected nothing less from Colombia's worst neighborhoods. It's the kind of neighborhood you wouldn't be proud to live in. I passed a few barely clothed women on the side of vacant road, knowing just what they were waiting for. It disgusted me to know that I looked like one of them. I wasted no time pulling my short dress down, in a weak attempt to cover my legs more.

I quickly averted my gaze, remembering my orders- no eye contact. It's a dangerous thing around here, where people's value isn't decided by money or your fancy job- everyone here lacks both. No, it's decided by the one thing you can decide yourself. Status. One wrong look could cost you your life around here, and the thought that these people were as animalistic as that, scared me. It's not something I'm used to, after all.

But my steps don't falter for a second. I'm on a mission, and I will achieve what I came here for. There isn't a cell in my body that allows the fear to overpower my determination.

Then I see it. In the distance, a building stands proudly. It looks old, like it's not used anymore. But I know better. Everyone who lives in this neighborhood knows better.

The building increases in size as I near it. I try not to think about what could possibly happen once I arrive there. What if he's not there? I could die in there. If it's anything like what I've been told, that place is anything but a safe place. No, he must be there. I'm going to have to trust that he is. They told me he'd be there, after all.

When I arrived at the foot of the building, everything in me tells me to run the other way. But I don't. I reach a shaking hand to the door that seems to be unlocked, and pushed it open. I'm greeted by the view of a stairway. I climbed my way up the narrow staircase, my shaking hands clenching the iron banister. When I'm at the first floor, there is little room for me to stand and little ways I can go. There's upstairs, downstairs and through the door that's in between. If I recall correctly, the door is the one I was told to go through.

Unlike the first one, this door is locked. Clenching my still shaking hands into firm fists, I raised on to the door and quickly knocked, not granting myself any time to change my mind and run the other way.

A moment passed, and then another, and then another, but the door remained unopened. For a second, I was worried that they got the address wrong, or their information about him being here was incorrect. And then, the worst option of all crossed my mind, the one where he was here, but isn't anymore. What if something bad happened to him? What if things didn't go the way he planned them to and he was in actual danger?

Adrenaline coursed through my veins at the thought of him being in danger, nd I reached my hand to the door to knock again, but it opened before I ever had to chance to put all my aggression and nerves in a bang against the door.

A man stood in the door opening, his head turned over his shoulder, ''La puta's!'' He called over his shoulder in a merry, and yet disgusting, way.

He finally turned to look at me, scanning me from tip to toe and I couldn't help but scruch my nose at him. I did a quick translation and realized he thought I was a prostitute. This was already heading south. I pulled my dress down some more, the feeling of his gaze sliding over my body making me feel uneasy.

He finally averted his gaze from my body to my face, and I relaxed slightly. But only slightly. He leaned forward, seemingly searching for something behind me. I'm guessing he ordered a bunch of 'Puta's'.

''You alone?'' He asked surprised, his voice raspy and sounding like he's spent his entire life smoking cigarettes. He sure smelled it.

I should have corrected him at that point, but instead, I merely nodded. I didn't want to come across as an enemy. And at least as a prostitute, I have a guaranteed ticket inside.

He man filled the room with a roar of laughter, the waves of his voice echoed against the iron staircase and the brick walls.

''You sure you can handle that? There are a bunch in the back.'' He said, not seeming the least bit sympathetic. No, he seemed excited.

I knew this was getting too dangerous. These man seemed like he had no morals, and if the guys in the back are anything like him, I'd be in a lot of danger walking in there claiming to be a prostitute. They wouldn't hold back, that much I'm sure of. I'm also sure I don't want to see for myself.

''I'm not a hooker.'' I murmured, but to no avail. The man didn't seem like he heard me as he had already started making his way back into the corridor.

I exhaled deeply, as I peeked through the door opening. There was just one long corridor. This is my shot, they've practically invited me in. I can't believe I actually made it this far.

I scrambled all the courage I possess and passed through the corridor, following his tracks. After walking down the long corridor, we enter a big room. As expected, there are more men in here. I examined each and every one of them in search of him. But he's nowhere to be seen. The men that are here, are each uglier than the one before them and it disgusts me to know what they think is about to go down.

The man who had opened the door approached me, a disgusting smile plastered on his face and I could only imagine all the disgusting things going through his mind right now. His hand reached out to me, and in a sudden fit of fear and courage, I slapped it away.

I might look like a prostitute, but I sure as hell am not one. And I refuse to act like one just for the sake of this mission. I will achieve my goal without selling my body.

His eyebrows rose in a surprise, but like most mafia men, he is a skilled master of facial expression. His face scrunched up into a scowl, and it was only then that I realized how much danger I was actually in. I was specifically told not to anger any one of them, this could be the end of me.

I felt my body shake in fear, but I refused to let it show on my face. The man took another step closer and I could barely control my nerves at that point.

''I'm not a prostitute!'' I confessed, in the hopes that he'd stop treating me like one.

He didn't. his hand reached out to me yet again, but this time I was too terrified to move. His hand slowly caressed my cheek and I know that the gentleness was merely temporary. I squirmed away from his touch slightly, he seemed unfazed.

''I'm here for Angelo.'' I murmured, in a last attempt to make him realize I'm not here for sexual pleasure. He didn't seem to care as his hand moved to my hair, tucking a black strand behind my ear.

I watched his hand lower onto my neck, and for a second the thought of being choked to death crossed my mind. But then, another hand grabbed the man by the wrist and he instantly stopped his movements. I followed the tattooed arm up to his owner and all the nerves and fear instantly left my body as I met his blue gaze.

I finally found him.