Ivy could hear something strange. It sounded mechanical and it was a whirring somewhere distant. It was a buzzing that was also very familiar. When she heard the distant sound of a man clearing his throat, her eyes opened and adjusted to the room. Charcoal wall paint with white baseboards. Two black leather chairs. One big white leather couch. The pictures on the wall were in black and white. Some were abstracts and some were figures. There was a faceless man drawn in a suit. A big window was to the left and outside it was dark. Ivy could tell immediately that she was in someone's little monochromatic home but whose? Looking down, her wrists were bound together by that same bright red rope. Her ankles were bound together tightly as well and then her thighs were bound to the chair. She was slung over a French leather chaise similar to something that would be found in Sigmund Freud's office. It was split down the middle, black leather on one side and white on the other. She rolled her eyes, thudding her head against the back of the chaise in defeat.
"Whyyy thee fuck is this happening to meee," she sighed to the ceiling before remembering something important. Her eyes flit about the room once more. She needed to speak to someone. She needed to lay eyes on her mom.
"Hello?" She called out waiting to see if Dr. Stevens would appear. She could still hear that damned buzzing noise.
"HELLOOO," she called louder. Still no movement or person rounding the corner.
"I know these muhfuckas can hear my loud ass mouth," she muttered kissing her teeth.
The buzzing stopped and a disembodied voice came from slightly behind to her left. She twisted her body around to see a small black speaker sitting on top of a black artful stand.
"Ms. Stevens," that dreadful voice spoke. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Where's my mother? You said she was alive and you weren't hurting anyone else. You got me here. so where is she?"
"Well, she's--she's resting," he chuckled bringing an unsteady feeling to Ivy's gut. She swallowed her lower lip and closed her eyes in an attempt to stay calm and reasonable but she wanted to snap. Shifting her wrists, she tried to pull hand out past the rope but it was no use. "Relax, Ms. Stevens. You'll get out of those ropes when I'm done."
Ivy's green eyes searched carefully for a camera, but there wasn't one visible.
"Yes, I can see you and hear, Ms. Stevens. Keep that in mind when you in there muttering and talking shit."
"Oh okay. Stupid ass, psycho ass, creepy ass dentist," Ivy shrugged hoping to offend him. She was tired of the entire scenario. Tired of Dr. Stevens and his twin trolls.
The damned sharp-toothed trolls! She gasped subtly as a lightbulb went off in her mind.
"Did I miss," she asked, hopeful. She had shot at his little minion before she passed out. She hoped the girl was dead. "That gremlin looking bitch.. Look like something you don't supposed to feed after midnight... Did I hit her?"
---
Erik smoothed his latex covered thumb over the hardened plastic cover of a casted mold of a client's teeth, a young black guy by the name of Malcolm. He wanted golds and Erik was a master of grill making. It was his more widely known hobby.
"Her name, Ms. Stevens... is Draya... and yes... you hit her."
"She dead?"
What an interesting and bizarre question. Erik paused to look at the monitor at her expression, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose. She was waiting for his response, paused with her mouth hanging open, eyes looking off to the side, still searching for a camera. He sighed. She had indeed fucked Draya up pretty well, and Araya was calling for her head on a stick. Still, Erik couldn't help but notice how smooth and beautiful Ivy was without even trying. He'd taken a wipe to her face while she was knocked out to see if it was an illusion and he was not disappointed. Her skin would make the perfect canvas. She would make the perfect masterpiece.
"Where did you learn to shoot like that," he asked returning his attention to the casting in his hand, glasses pushed back up. Draya had been shot in the stomach and now she laid in a hospital bed with Araya at her bedside. Jealous ex boyfriend they said it was. That was the coverup.
"..You're not speaking," he said with a raise of his brows. He began to pour the gold through wax tubes, injecting it into the casted mold. The new creation had to be put in centrifuge to spin the gold inside and take out the air bubbles, but before he could do that he looked back to the monitor. She still hadn't replied.
"Neither you nor your mother have manners enough to answer basic questions, but I can see the same spirit in you both."
On a second monitor was Ivy's mother. She hadn't yet awaken but when she did, there was a television in front of her, a stack of books including a bible since she was religious, and a tray of fresh fruit. He'd arranged the fruit himself. Ivy's mother was not tied up to anything and when she awoke she'd be able to move freely, but she'd been stripped of anything she could possibly use to escape, her room door was locked from the outside with double locks, as was the window. The window was shatter-proof Hammerglass.
"What did you do to her," Ms. Stevens' divine temper began to flare. The fire was returning and sparking his excitement. He licked his lips and smirked at the monitor where she still searched for a camera lens.
"I said that she was fine and I meant it. She's fine, but if you continue to act rudely then that can easily change."
She wasn't backing down, but she said nothing else.. which was fine for the moment. He hadn't done nearly a thing to her that he'd wanted to. He sat the golds in his tabletop centrifuge and re-adjusted the machine settings before removing his latex gloves and strolling into the living room where the young fiery woman sat bound and watching him approach her calmly.
When he reached her, he used his knuckles to gently stroke the side of her face to her chin.
"Now I have one question for you.. and you'll want to answer this or I'll decide for you." He held her chin lightly as she looked from off to the side over to him slowly, hesitantly. He waited until he had her full attention with her green eyes focused on him. "There you go," he praised. She was at his mercy and by the look in her eye, she hated it.
"Not only are you.. breathtakingly beautiful, Ms. Stevens..." She shook her head from his light hold biting at his finger. "And feisty...," he chuckled after snatching his fingers out of the path of her teeth. "But you also have an affinity for the finer things.." His mind flashed to the way she threw his own knife at his head in his office. Had he not dodged, she'd have killed him. Then, though he wore a vest, she'd also successfully shot him in the chest twice. Though it didn't kill him, he still felt it. Even now, he could feel where he'd gotten hit. It made him feel alive.. excited. He suddenly had goosebumps and a sense of giddiness in his gut. On top of that, she put a bullet in Draya and fucked up her stomach with no hesitation or delay. He could recall the blood, deep red, spreading into a vibrant ruby shade. He'd planted his fingers on Draya's soaked shirt and then looked at his palm, the red printed onto him like a stain.
Ivy scowled watching him and with those events swirling in his mind, he felt his blood flow to his dick.
"You have two options," he murmured. "I'm going to cut you either way, but you can either sit in this room while I do it... or...," he panted lightly, feeling himself twitch. "...You can finish the job you started on Draya first."
Her head lowered and her eyebrow raised.
He smirked at her response.
"Your move, Ivy."
