The dimness fractured as the first light of dawn breached the horizon, casting a slender beam into the confined space.
"Get out!" Her movements were deliberate, arching her back within the cramped confines and leveraging her arms to hoist her legs out of the trunk of the Black Sedan.
"Take her from the rear, Gabriel," Joshua directed his bodyguard. He stationed himself on the sidewalk, positioned at the grand entrance of a towering, opulent hotel. Flanking him were two men, one of whom proffered a lit cigarette, receiving a tap of gratitude on the shoulder from Joshua. After a few calming inhales, he disposed of the cigarette onto the pavement before stepping across the threshold.
"Follow," Gabriel instructed, seizing MK's hand. His pause was fleeting as his large palm enveloped her slender forearm, then he proceeded to tow her around the perimeter of the hotel toward the staff entrance.
His presence drew the attention of the morning shift workers. They bowed their heads and silently parted, instinctively yielding to the imposing figure leading the disheveled girl in his wake.
Riding the staff elevator to the 12th Floor, they emerged into a lengthy corridor. After navigating several twists and turns, Gabriel came to a halt outside room "237", swiping a keycard to grant access.
"Wake up, Sonia!" he barked at the middle-aged woman sprawled across a king-size bed, ensconced amidst a small entourage of questionably youthful companions. The room bore witness to the aftermath of a wild night, littered with empty liquor bottles, remnants of extravagant meals, and traces of illicit substances. Gabriel's booming voice struggled to penetrate the remnants of the revelry that had only recently ceased.
"Stay put!" he commanded MK, striding toward the bed. With determination, he seized the mattress, clenching his teeth as he overturned it, sending six bodies tumbling to the floor.
"Who the hell?!" Sonia jolted awake, accompanied by a symphony of groans. "What's going on, Gabriel?!" she shouted, grasping her head and leaning against the bed frame.
Gabriel offered no explanation, merely fixing his gaze on Sonia and giving a slight nod of his head. Frowning, Sonia followed his gaze, her eyes falling upon MK. "Who is she?"
"From the convent. Prepare her for the next three nights," he stated tersely, pivoting on his heel and exiting the room. Casting a final glance at MK, he motioned for her to enter. "Don't cross her."
Sonia maneuvered across the bed frame, navigating past the few individuals who remained passed out or asleep. Reaching MK, she grasped her chin firmly, scrutinizing her features.
"Qué pasa, niña? Is something wrong in that head of yours, or do you simply not understand Spanish, which is basically the same thing? Speak!" With a swift motion, she slapped MK.
"H- Hungry," MK stammered.
Sonia smirked. "Not surprising. You're practically a walking skeleton. I've got just the thing to fill you up for tonight, as long as you behave and don't cross me!"
The remainder of the day blurred for MK, every moment between attempts at nourishment feeling interminable in her weakened state. Nonetheless, she didn't protest when Sonia led her to her workshop on the Ground Floor of the hotel, a space equipped with mirrors, makeup stations, and clothing racks. There, Sonia instructed one of the boys from her small entourage to dispose of the dusty sack. Another boy and two girls were tasked with bathing and meticulously cleansing every inch of MK's body.
As the stark silhouette of a young woman stood unclothed before her, Sonia embarked on her meticulous work. She tended to the woman's nails and hair, applied layers of makeup – not to conceal the hollows in her cheeks, but to accentuate them. Sweet perfume wafted through the air as she dressed her in a provocative gown. Finally, she positioned a plain white eye mask delicately over the bridge of her nose. With the transformation complete, she seated her like a doll, instructing her to wait, yet never offering sustenance.
At 23:45, Gabriel entered Sonia's workshop.
"You came yourself?" Sonia appeared surprised.
"El Jefe awaits with his guests in the ballroom," he stated plainly, his gaze scanning the room until it fell upon MK. "How is she?"
"Starved. Obedient. Strange," Sonia shrugged. "Now she's your responsibility."
"What do you mean by 'strange'?"
"She appears on the verge of collapse from both execution and starvation. Yet, since you brought her, she has scarcely blinked, let alone sought rest. It's as if she's a robot running on empty, despite constant warnings to recharge."
"Did she not consume anything?" Gabriel queried, cutting through the metaphor.
"I didn't offer her a thing."
"Why?"
"El Jefe brought us a severe case of anorexia for his guests. I'm not a damn doctor who knows what would be good for her to eat. If something happened to her, it'd be my head next to…" Sonia stopped herself from mentioning the former Jefe. "Anyway, I do have something for her that should suffice," she chuckled. "Are they requesting her presence now, or will she continue to wait?"
"That's not my decision to make," Gabriel replied.
Sonia grumbled.
"Niña," she beckoned MK to approach.
"Hungry," MK murmured.
"I know. Here, smell this," she offered a tiny plastic vial.
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MK innocently complied. Her nostrils hovered over the vial, and suddenly, a suction force gripped it, causing it to slip from Sonia's grasp and become lodged in MK's nose.
"Quick Niña," Sonia chuckled as she retrieved the vial. "Herberto, fetch me a napkin," she called out to one of her boys. With a swipe, she wiped away the traces of white from MK's nose. "Magnífico."
"Come," Gabriel instructed MK, and as always, she followed... hungry.
…
Her consciousness was jolted halfway awake by the pain, a sensation that had become all too familiar in recent days. Each "meal" she endured only served to roughen her insides and further deteriorate her mental state. The substance she ingested through her nose never reached her stomach; the Sisters of the convent had confirmed that whether ingested, injected, or absorbed directly into any internal organ, the outcome remained the same, with only varying timelines.
'30…' She groggily registered the illuminated elevator button, her mind struggling against the haze. "Big…" She murmured faintly to the man standing beside her. 'Hungry…' Once again, her thoughts were hijacked by the relentless craving. 'Good,' she inhaled deeply, tasting the air within the confined space. "You smell good."
"What?" Gabriel asked, bewildered, just as the elevator came to a halt and its doors slid open.
Celebratory clamor engulfed Gabriel and MK as they stepped out of the elevator into a cavernous ballroom. Tuxedo-clad gentlemen and ladies in elegant gowns reveled in animated laughter. Attending to them were young men and women adorned with both smiling and somber masks, their attire scarcely covering their modesty. Providing entertainment were boys and girls dressed in attire similar to MK's, though less ostentatious.
At the far end of the ballroom, a vast stage lay empty, its presence commanding attention. A long, narrow platform extended from the stage – a runway, flanked by plush viewing couches.
"Come," Gabriel urged MK, his tone tinged with reservation, as he discreetly guided her behind the stage curtains, his imposing physique providing cover. There, he swiftly composed a message on his phone, summoning Joshua.
El nuevo Jefe's smile faded upon stepping into the shadow of the curtains. His first order of business was to assess Sonia's handiwork. "What do you think, Gabriel?" His second instinct was to seek counsel from his trusted bodyguard.
"She's present, and we have no substitute," Gabriel stated matter-of-factly.
"No, we don't..." Joshua replied, devoid of emotion. "I can see the allure the Madre Superiora poorly conveyed to us. I suppose 'la ropa hace a la mujer'," he glanced at his watch. "We have a few minutes until midnight, enough for a brief address. Keep a close watch on her. When I give the signal, send her out."
"Yes, Jefe," Gabriel nodded, and Joshua ascended the stage.
The chatter and music in the room gradually subsided.
MK caught sight of Joshua's silhouette through the curtains. His presence, like his scent, appealed to her senses. In fact, the entire new environment exuded an inviting aroma that she found strangely comforting. With her mind slightly clearer than when Sonia had prepared her, she concluded that she preferred the scents of the ballroom to those of the workshop.
Standing there, not out of desire or interest but simply because she had been instructed to, the sharp, electrifying pain that originated in her mucous membranes and radiated throughout her body intensified her contemplations.
'Where am I?' No longer consumed solely by hunger. 'Who?'
"It's your turn," Gabriel prodded her from behind the curtains. "Walk along the runway and stop at the midpoint on the return."
'Run...' MK's thoughts faltered in the glare of the spotlight. Somehow, she was able to see, her vision adjusting in a split second to take in her surroundings in vivid detail.
Joshua welcomed her with an enthusiastic smile and applause as she began her walk down the runway.
'...way.'
She completed her circuit, gradually absorbing her surroundings with each step.
'Lust' appeared to her as an alien concept, foreign and unfamiliar. The lecherous gazes fixed upon her epitomized the manifestation of this emotion. As she contemplated, she found no solace in terms like 'Perversion' or 'Degeneration,' silently condemning the shameful behavior of those whose eyes oozed with desire.
Before her, minor entertainers were objectified, stripped of their dignity as they were leered at, groped, and violated. They endured the imposition of various substances and alcohol against their will.
Midway down the runway, MK froze, realizing that other words could aptly characterize the scene: 'Debauchery,' followed by 'Coercion.' And then, an unfamiliar emotion, distinct from hunger or pain, emerged from the depths of her being, a feeling that seemed detached yet inexplicably connected to her existence.
Flashes of disturbing images flooded her mind – a bite, a mother and daughter, a green glow – culminating in a final word that escaped her lips: "Trinity."
"Why did you-" Joshua's voice was cut short as he recoiled, narrowly evading a jet of black sludge that surged forth.
The viscous stream, a terrifying and relentless force, propelled tables and their occupants together in a chaotic maelstrom.
The pain sliced through MK's senses, each moment an agony as she struggled against the relentless current. She bent, but the force proved too formidable, whipping her head back as the liquid sprayed in all directions, coating the ballroom floor with a thick layer nearly two centimeters deep. Silence enveloped the space, save for MK's strained grunts, as the chaos wrought injuries and left everyone drenched in the repulsive shower, a moment frozen in time.
In the aftermath, a profound emptiness descended upon MK, accompanied by a surge of unsettling clarity. "What has happened to me?" she muttered, grappling with fragmented memories that danced beyond her control. The viscous black sludge clinging to her hands mirrored a face, one she hesitated to acknowledge as her own.
With trembling fingers, MK reached out to touch the visage she scarcely recognized. The contours felt unfamiliar, more bone than flesh beneath her touch. "What has become of me?" she demanded, her voice thick with frustration escalating into a crescendo of denial. "This is not who I am! This cannot be me! It can't be!"
Her scream pierced the stagnant air of the ballroom, a primal cry that shattered glass and ruptured eardrums. Vampires, werewolves – names and faces swirled in her mind, fragments of a puzzle she struggled to piece together amidst the chaos. Rika, Michael, Aisha, Nura – their images flickered in her consciousness, elusive as ghosts in the tumult of her thoughts.
Her memories lay scattered, each fragment a piece of a larger, elusive puzzle. First came the faces of those who had turned her. Second, the memory of the one she had harmed. Third, her consuming obsession. Fourth, the instincts of a mother surged within her. Fifth, the tender vulnerability of a daughter. Sixth, the specter of retribution loomed large. "Mary Kate Williams," she murmured, grappling with the seventh piece, a name that felt foreign, rejected by her fractured consciousness. "No," she protested, the number seven an unwelcome intrusion. Only three pieces mattered: Mary Kate Williams, Aisha, and Nura. "I am..."
A sudden click, like a trigger pulled at the back of her head, jolted her into awareness. MK whirled around to face the menacing muzzle of a gun. "Die," Gabriel muttered, his voice a low growl as he squeezed the trigger. MK's pupils narrowed to pinpricks as she instinctively dodged, the bullet grazing her cheek in a searing kiss of metal. Stunned, Gabriel persisted, emptying the magazine until his finger throbbed with pain. MK crumpled, her form collapsing into the slick puddle below. "Bruja!" Gabriel spat, his breath heavy with venom.
"What the hell!" Joshua's voice erupted, his bodyguard at his side as they confronted the chaotic scene. Meanwhile, the guests, scattered like startled birds, began to rise, their expressions a tangled web of frustration and bewilderment. "Puta Madre Superiora!" Joshua's rage seethed as he lashed out, his foot connecting with MK's prone form. "Summon your men, Gabriel! Tonight, those whores-selling-nuns will learn the consequences of trifling with me!" Another kick, another curse as Joshua's gaze fell to something entwined around his ankle.
"CRUNCH!"