CH10: Pretty Little Mouth
“You think I’ll weep?
No, I’ll not weep. Storm and tempest.
I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or e’re I’ll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad.”
― William Shakespeare, King Lear
The room was silent except for slow breathing. The woman had left once she had finished with her, heels clicking into the distance. The guards came back into the room straight after, one guard at each side of the door. They stared at her darkly, lips formed into smirks.
Hela shot them a menacing look, scowling at them even though her muscles felt like they were slowly tearing apart.
Suddenly, the door flew open. He gazed over her body, pausing at her breasts and moving down her legs.
“Don’t make that face, sweetheart. It makes you ugly.” Hela’s hands curled into fists, her expression never faltering. Nicklaus stepped closer to her, his dark suit hugging his lean figure, his lips slowly parting into a devilish grin.
This man was going to die. No, he deserved something worse than death. But right at that moment, with his hand running down her face, Hela could do nothing but painfully snap her head away from his touch. How could she let this man touch her? Disgraceful, utterly disgraceful.
His scrutinising gaze made her feel naked in more ways than one. The dress was the only thing covering her body, the clearly limned points of her nipples could be clearly seen against the flimsy fabric. She also had no gun, no knife, nothing. Naked.
“Next time you move away from me I’ll let those guards rape you. Do you understand, sweetheart?”
She would not answer back, or move her head. She felt like she had control over him somehow, when she stayed silent. It made her feel good, how his face crumpled up into a scowl whenever she ignored his questions. How furious he felt when he didn’t get what he wanted. She loved the way she made him feel.
Nicklaus’ fist came flying out of nowhere, colliding with her jaw like many times before, her head snapping to one side. She was so used to the pain she barely felt it. Most of her body was numb, maybe all of it. Hela’s mouth pooled with the metallic taste of her own blood. If she spat blood on the wall, she wondered, you wouldn’t even be able to see it smeared on the scarlet wall.
“Answer me when I ask you a question.” Nicklaus had grabbed her jaw in a bruising grip, yet Hela stayed silent, their eyes locked in deadly stares.
“Nicklaus, we’re running late. You can do whatever you want with her when we come back, but right now we should leave.” Hela hadn’t noticed the door opening, or a man entering the room. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips, a tattooed hand running across his dirty blonde hair. He also wore a suit, but his was dark blue.
Nicklaus inhaled deeply through his nose, a muscle in his jaw twitching slightly. He leaned closer to her ear, still holding her jaw. Hela felt his breath caress her ear, goosebumps rising along her neck because of disgust. “This hasn’t finished,” he breathed.
He let go of her jaw and Hela let out a shaky breath. She hadn’t realised that she had held it all this time.
“Let’s go, suka,” Nicklaus said, resting his hand on the small of her back, covering the head of the snake. He pushed her hard enough to make her start walking towards the open doors, his friend following them.
They strode down corridors, flights of stairs, until they reached what seemed to be the front doors. They were wide open, light spilling onto the marble staircase. A black limousine was parked at the foot of the stairs, it’s front lights the only thing illuminating the darkness outside.
Nicklaus opened the limousine door and Hela slowly got into it. Every muscle screeched in pain as she moved inside. Black leather coated the seats, tinted windows blocked all vision, bottles of liquor were placed on a small stand.
Nicklaus closed the door as he slid next to her. The car thrummed to life and sped away while Nicklaus filled a cup of whiskey. Hela sat as far as she could from him, leaving an empty seat in between them.
She was tense, her back straight, legs shut in front of her. Her hands were intertwined. She pressed her perfectly manicured nails against her palms, biting into her smooth yet raw flesh, leaving small bloody crescent moons as souvenirs. She concentrated on the tingling feeling running across her hands.
Nicklaus was sprawled on his seat, one leg resting on one knee, his elbow resting on the windowsill and hand holding a glass.
The car went on and on, silence filling the space between them. The limousine slowed down until it stopped, its heart dying, and with it the rest of its metallic organs.
“You will be at my side all the time. You will not move away from me. You will do as I say. You will smile all the time. And most important of all: you will keep your pretty little mouth shut.”