Her traitorous disguise

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you’re a monster

You played with fire and expected not to burn,
What hurts me isn't what you did,
But it's what you've become.

__________________________



I knew I shouldn't have but curiosity took over as I tilted my head to sneak a peak at the massacre that was currently taking place not more than a few meters from where I stood.

My orbs landed on a group of men dressed in black and I wondered if it was some sort of a uniform or a dress code like all the other servants working in the mansion had.

Except for the fact that their uniform was was plain light blue for the women and light pink for the men.

The tints of their uniforms were my idea, since I hoped it help break certain stereotypes set by our malicious society, mum didn't quite agree; she believed each gender has their certain roles and differences; which sounded like crap to me.

Therefore, I talked to dad; more like begged. It took more than a month but I guess he was so sick of hearing the same issue over and over again that he decided to let me get away with it just for the sake of me shutting up.

A gun each was placed in their fancy leather belts. All five of them had their hair cropped and styled back with probably one of the expensive hair gels Lucas and Noah often used.

A watch hugged their right wrists and just above the watch laid a dragon-like black tattoo.

What tipped me off was that couldn't help but notice that all of them had their left ear pierced as a black earring hugged their earlobes with a matching bluetooth earpiece in one of their ears.

Their bodies immobile as if awaiting for a command and their faces indescribably emotionless.

I ticked off my balance as I scanned their faces, trying to memorise every tiny detail to later inform the cops.

They all surrounded the poor girl still tied up but her blindfold no longer hugging her eyes but instead hanging loosely from the base of her throat; all eying her like a prey ready to devour.

I couldn't catch a glimpse of the guy who stood right in front of her, since he had his back towards me but judging by his posture and the way all the other four men reacted to his commands, anyone could easily guess that he was the leader.

His dressing was different too since he was clothed in a plain red tinted shirt and navy blue jeans.

I couldn't help but notice that his shoes resembled the brown river island ones that mom had gotten for daddy last year on Christmas.

He slightly nodded his head towards one of the scary guys dressed like goblins and the puppet immediately walked away from him and towards my direction.

My heart skipped a beat as I registered that he's nearing me, I began to search for anything to hurt this man if he got any closer, but found nothing useful to my dismay.

Fortunately, he simply went past me, resulting in me exhaling a breath I didn't even know I was holding as he made his way to one of the shelves located across the room.

I took that as an opportunity to move about slightly and take shelter behind another enormous box.

"Its been a while, hasn't it? I would be lying if I said it isn't lovely seeing you again Amara", the Man spoke huskily.

I watched her gaze up at him for the first time as she spoke,

"Oh yes. It's lovey", her tone dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at her and without hesitation she matched his glare with her own.

"You clearly haven't changed much", he chuckled.

More lies. And they both knew it. She mirrored his cold laugh and for a second they look like old friends but that is further from the truth.

"But you, you have changed quite a bit, I mean a house in the city and a wife to come home to; I have to admit I never thought you had it in you, I'm impressed"

she laughs before continuing, "oh and your children. Lucas, Noah and my sweet little princess; what was her name again?", she challenges him.

"Better watch your mouth Amara, you wouldn't want to say something you'll later regret", he warns her.

Dad.

Oh my god dad.

It's daddy.

"Malaika was it? Oh I promise you once I get my hands on that one, she won't see the light of day", she snarls.

I was about to run to daddy and ask him what the fuck was going on but I stopped in my tracks when I watched him clench his right fist and punch her square in her jaw.

I stifled a scream as another cry that wasn't mine sounded the room. Too shocked to move a muscle, crouching low, I prayed I was left unheard.

It all felt unreal. I felt like I was in a terribly terrifying nightmare, or one of dads awful action films, I sat with my dad eyes wide open; just praying for it to end.

"I've had enough, let's get right to the point shall we?", daddy questions her. "Who sent you?", she looked away, almost mocking a disgusted expression without mouthing a single word.

"Ryder", he calls and the man that had been fiddling around the shelves returned, holding something like a knife in his left hand while his right one was busy holding a lighter.

He focuses his attention back on the girl who didn't seemed one bit bothered by the essentials the man approaching held, Ryder I'm guessing his name was.

"Who sent you?", Again no answer, she looks dejected, disgusted even.

He glances at knife in the man's hand and Ryder swiftly walks towards the girl.

He crouches down at her level, falling on his knees in front on her as she watches his every move suspiciously.

Dad studies her for a bit longer in hope for her to answer but when she doesn't; he sends a curt nod to this guy and he slashes the blade onto her right cheek and her screams began to fill the room where once silence settled.

She looks up to match daddy's glare once more as a scowl plastered her face while he signals Ryder against and man on his knees presses a button causing the flames to ignite.

Her fear now quite visible in her tired hazel orbs.

He nears her and she begins struggling in the rusty chair, her mouth sealed but her body desperately begging to be set free.

Ryder gets closer and her shuffling increases, almost causing her to fall back along with the chair.

He closes the distance between them as he heats the blade with the lighter right in front of her as if wanting to give her an idea of what was yet to come.. warning her?

Begging her to surrender before much harm comes to her, and by the expression of pity his once emotionless face held; it was clear as day he was not a fan of violence.

She purpose ignores all the hints and looks the other way, as if mentally preparing herself for the pain as he stabs her in her jean clothed thigh, resulting in her struggles to increase.

Her lips parted as another scream sounded the atmosphere. I felt bile rise up to the back of my throat as I swallowed the urge to puke my guts out right here, right now.

I thought she'd give up, that she'd surrender and beg for her life cause mommy always told me that we women are fragile, that we're scared and often helpless. But she did the one thing I'd least expected.

She spat at his face and snarled, "you're really gonna have to do better than that Draven", not a hint of pain in her voice.

"I can't say i haven't missed this-", her sentence cut off by Ryder withdrawing the blade from her thigh and stabbing her in the side of her stomach, just below her heart.

She seemed dazed, her cries now turned to silent whimpers as she fought her eyelids open trying to keep her conscious last a little longer.

"Oh yes, I've missed this too", daddy replied as he neared her.

Clutching onto her thick brown locks, he applied pressure causing a yelp to escape her bloodied lips.

"Who sent you?", he repeated for the third time, clearly leaving no room for argument.

"And why would I tell you. we both know I'm not getting out of here alive", she huffed.

"You're a stubborn one aren't you?", he muttered under his breath as he nodded down at Ryder.

Ryder, yet again began to torture her but this time he did something even she hadn't expected.

He flicked on the lighter right in front of her eyes, as of hoping for her to speak before much damage is done to her.

When he realised that she wasn't going to, he carefully brought it to the edges of her hair, igniting them and leaned back as she screamed helplessly, struggling in the chairs grip.

I wanted to help, to save her, to hurt everyone who laid their hands on the poor women but I couldn't.

Fear consumed my body and I couldn't move a single muscle.

I stood there dumbfolded, too shocked to even voice out the scream that was caught in the back of my throat.

I felt immobile. Paralysed.

Her hair now burnt and turned to dust, leaving the tiniest roots of her burnt hair remain while her head was now tinted a dark brownish black due to the flame.

She sat there helplessly waiting for the next torture to come her way.

"You know what I like about you", she challenged him, pain dripping from her voice as she huffed loudly,

"At least you know you're an asshole", she completed, her voice now tired and her throat sore from all the screaming yet it still held allegiance and devotion, which daddy clearly wasn't enjoying.

"Last shot Amara", he threatened her irritated.

She forced a silly smile onto her bruised cherry lips as her breath came hard and harsh.

I could almost see the scales tipping back and forth in her head, weighting her options.

"He'll get you, you know he will. And once he gets his hands on you and your pathetic little family, you'll beg for mercy", she snarled.

"I might actually consider giving you the satisfaction of an easy death if you plead", he lifted the sides of his lips slightly, matching her smile.

Her laugh echoed the room as she spoke, "We both know that's not going to happen", she teased.

"I'm a Russo and pleading might be in you Williams blood but it sure ain't in ours-",

She was cut off again, "well then, consider this a favour for old times sake", he replied as he reached for the gun on the side of his belt, lifting it and levelling it to her temple.

I knew how this worked,

no.

He wouldn't kill her.

would he?

I felt funny for even asking myself that.

Ofcourse not.

my daddy's no bad guy.

He's not a criminal.

I've watched movies with daddy all the time; even the news; my dad hates bad guys. I knew this for a fact.

He's probably just scaring her. Which too wasn't okay in my opinion but it was better than the other thought that had crossed my mind so I allowed my recent discovery to sink in; in an attempt to calm myself but soon every thought that refused he would do such a thing flew out the window

I was hoping that daddy and the rest of them would start laughing now while some hidden camera-man would come barge out of nowhere and tell me I was being pranked.

As he was about to pull the trigger when a scream echoed throughout the room that I realised sounded like mine and before I could register, my feet found a brain of their own as they sprinted towards the girl.

"Don't hurt her", I yelped shielding her body with my very own little one.

Dad stood there dumbstruck as he gazed at me, his face holding too many emotions, that I lost count.

For the first time I saw fear in his orbs which scared me while the women behind me let out a gasp, she too was not expecting my arrival.

I hadn't put much thought into this and I was beginning to ponder the consequences that I would have to face.

"How long have you been watching", his voice dangerously calm. "Long enough to know that she doesn't deserve to die", I challenged.

A part of me amused at myself for the upright confidence that jolted within me.

I couldn't explain it.

I just knew that I had to anything and everything to protect her, even if that means putting my own life at risk, for I was certain that daddy wouldn't hurt me.

why would he?

I was his little princess after all. I smiled at my stupidity, did I really expect a man who was torturing this women right in front of me to not harm me.

But no.

Everything aside. He was still my dad, and a part of me protested that he loved me.

My thoughts came crumbling down when he spoke, "Malaika", he gritted through his teeth.

I began to shake my head furiously as salty tears slid down my flushed cheeks once again, not caring about who witnessed me having a breakdown right here in the middle of a crime scene.

"So you're the famous Malaika", a familiar voice questioned almost seemingly amused about the whole scenario, her voice almost inaudible.

I swirled around to face her and couldn't help but deepen my frown.

If I thought she looked bruised before, than I was ridiculous for she looked miserable up-close. Not a single bit of her left undamaged.

As if she had read my thoughts, she continued "Don't you worry love, I've seen worse".

I hesitantly pushed my hand towards her and traced the scar on her neck, ascending the tips of my fingers, tracing the most recent one she had received on her cheek just minutes ago while she winced, as if my touch had burnt her.

I swiftly withdrew my palm from her face and threw it to my side. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..", I trailed off.

She stared at me blankly, as if trying to look through me. It felt as if I tore her out of a deep thought when I continued. "Does it hurt?", I whispered.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Obviously she was in pain and I clearly wasn't making it any better for her.

She slightly chuckled as if I had said something utterly hilarious before she spoke, "I'll survive", then looked towards dad who stood immobile. "That is if they let me", her tone challenging; like a child throwing off sarcastic comments to their math teacher in class, not a hint of fear or distress.

My heart ached for her.

She reminded me so much of my very own mom.

What is she has children, will they become orphans after her death?

What if daddy doesn't kill her but keeps her hostage?

Both the possibilities seemed equally awful. It would be an understatement to say that I'm surprised with the courage that seeped through my veins at that precise moment as I find myself blurting out syllables, even I never thought I would. "I won't let them hurt you. I promise".

She stared at me absentmindedly as her tone which was once humorous, now became a deadly calm one, "Don't make promises you know you can't keep sweet cheeks".

My face scrunched up in confusion as she continued, "You know Malaika; I have a little boy back home; not much older than you, not knowing shit about my whereabouts, he's helplessly staring at the door, waiting for me to return with his birthday present and the balloons for a party that he had been planing for weeks. And that's not even the best part sweetheart. He probably believes that I am upset with him or that he wasn't good enough and that I didn't want him therefore I didn't bother returning, and that too on his birthday. His bloody birthday. And he always will. For the rest of his fucking life. He fucking will! Because there is absolutely no one on this planet who will let him know of my burial", She laughed historically while tears began to bite my eyes.

"That ofcouse is if I even get one. I'll probably be thrown into a lake or a ditch, where not just him but no one else will ever locate me.", she huffed out a breath as I struggled to catch mine.

"Malaika", dad's voice was louder this time. Installing fear inside me, every single cell in my body pleaded for me to run, but I get again felt paralysed.

"No. no you don't understand, I won't let them hurt you anymore, just trust me", I pleaded while sniffing my nose, ignoring the beast that stood near me.

"I promised him. I promised him I'd return", I gazed up at her only to find tears in her tired eyes.

"Everything will be okay, just relax-", it was as if I was trying to make myself believe my words instead of her.

"No it won't. It hasn't been for a very long time and it just keeps getting worse by every passing day", she yelled furiously as her eyes grew bloodshot, mine mimicked hers but mine grew wide at the change of her tone.

"I want to tell myself that it will be. That everything will be okay. But I can't lie to myself anymore sweet cheeks. I can't lie to myself and everyone who I care about. Because I know. I fucking know for a fact that everything will not be okay. So just save me from any further misery and just kill me already", she screamed but only this time, you could sense the failure in her tone, as if she's lost her will to live.

I absentmindedly shook my head, so hard that I wouldn't be surprised if it got detached from the rest of my body and fell at a safe distance.

"Yes, my love. It has to be done. Could you do something for me?", she meant to ask but it sounded much like a plead instead.

I nodded, trying to calm myself before I lost conscious.

"Tell my little boy that I'm sorry. Tell my Luca that I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise-",

the sound of a gunshot filled the air

I prepared myself for an excruciating amount of pain to follow.

Too focused on controlling my breathing I didn't notice that I never got hit in the first place and when I did, I reached out but before my reflexes could've acted, I watched her head fall back as a bullet pierced the areas right between her eyes.

"Fuck", I heard someone hiss behind me almost immediately.

I don't want to leave her, despite her wounds, her burns and bruises, her glassy eyes. I don't trust her corpse to stay dead. A foolish hope but I feel it all the same.

I slightly pulled back and turned around, not believing what just happened. My eyes were betraying me, only to catch a glimpse of my father holding the pistol.

My puffy eyes flickered up at him.

His face so familiar yet I don't think I know him at all.

He crosses the distance between us with strong, deliberate steps, boots slamming on the wooden floor.

As he reaches out to perhaps comfort me, I flinch and his eyes soften, crowded with sadness, pity but not guilt or any sort of remorse.

He was so close to me yet I had never felt so distant from him.

I refuse to let him believe that I see him the same way. And maybe I never will.

Pushing him as hard as I could, which clearly wasn't much since he didn't even bulge a little, I tried to create a safe distance between us while I felt my knees grow weak as I fell on the floor.

"You're a coward, Don't you dare come any closer!", I yelled as he bent down to lift me up from the wooden ground yet he picked me up against my will, without much effort.

I trashed around in his arms hoping he would let me go but he did the opposite as he tightened his grip on me, enforcing me to let out a whimper.

He stared down at me as my eyelids grew heavier. "Malaika..", he whispered as if to explain himself when I shook my head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of lying any further as tears streamed down my face and soft whimpers sounded the atmosphere.

"you're a monster", I recall murmuring before everything around me blackened out and darkness once again welcomed me.

I felt much at ease since I had been accustomed to it by now as I drifted off to a dreamless slumber.
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