NIROTTI DANCE/ SACRIFICE
As the pungent aroma of spices hung in the air, Mijako was ensconced at a grand, ebony table encircled by her mafia kin. The dining chamber was draped in a heavy cloak of darkness, pierced only by the weak glow of candles that cast sinuous shadows which seemed to whisper of vice. The table groaned under the weight of an alluring spread — platters of juicy meats cloaked in sumptuous gravies beside an array of foreign fruits and wines costly enough to ransom kings.
Nevertheless, Mijako's fixation lay not on this feast of opulence, but on the entity exerting its will over her in those moments. Frozen like a puppet awaiting strings' pull, she sensed an inner force emerging, seizing control – this force was Aphrodite, a tempestuous succubus who had seized command over Mijako's very essence.
A disquieting hush settled like fog over the gathering as diners savoured their repast in muted tones, unable to articulate the unease that stifled their voices. Attempts to draw Mijako into dialogue were met with her glacial presence and indifferent glance, rebuffing them coldly.
The others couldn't help but note Mijako's silence and detachment was stark against her usual demeanor; truly, it was Aphrodite who muted her, focusing intently on one particular guest.
This man possessed stature and a sharp visage deemed handsome by mortal standards. His seat at their elite table came by virtue of his stature in criminal echelons. His potential value to Mijako's father's schemes was evident, yet it wasn't his power itself that lured Aphrodite—it was an underlying urge to dominate and entice which she relished.
As night drew on, Mijako felt Aphrodite's influence wax and wane within her like moon-pulled tides; moments where her consciousness surfaced were fleeting before being submerged once more beneath waves of enticing charm emblematic of Aphrodite.
Throughout the evening, every secretive exchange with this unaware man intensified their silent tango of attraction. Each time he met her gaze there flickered a covert yearning which the succubus devoured eagerly.
Without a moment for Mijako to gather her thoughts, the omnipotent grip of Aphrodite seized control. She spoke through Mijako's lips with an unsettling serenity that crept coldly down the spines of all who listened.
"Be assured, father," came Mijako's response, tinged with a voice that was not quite her own, "that all is as impeccable for you as ever. Perfection personified, isn't it?"
The hall reverberated with these icy words, and those closest to Mijako could clearly sense the discrepancy - this was not the Mijako they cherished. Worry flickered through her cousins' eyes at the suspicion that she had fallen under an ominous spell.
Don's gaze sharpened with intent to uncover the stranger within his daughter. "Prove your loyalty to our family," he commanded sternly.
Mijako battled internally to expel Aphrodite's dominating presence, struggling to profess the allegiance her father sought. Despite her mental strife, her physical form was unyielding; a puppet under the succubus's command.
"I Gave my oath," she uttered reluctantly, each syllable heavy with bitterness. "But, I refuse to serve as a docile figure in your vile escapades."
A haunting hush descended in the wake of Mijako's bold declaration, laced with foreboding akin to an anathema. Those gathered inwardly recognized this crucial juncture in their familial saga and sensed a fissure in the paternal ties that once bound.
Anguish twisted Don's visage, his anger masking a deeper trepidation for his cherished offspring. His voice thundered through clenched teeth as he decreed, "Defiance is no option; we are bound by blood - our family's bond not so easily shattered!"
Mijako remained outwardly composed while internally she raged against Aphrodite's tyranny. The imperative was clear - she must escape this enchantment before it wrought havoc upon all she held dear.
Ensnared in an unyielding trance, the guest's hands instinctively grasped for Aphrodite, drawing her near as if yearning to meld their souls together on an emotional level. As their lips united, a blazing tempest raged within their fervent clasp, hotter than the fiercest fever. Desire's potent energy sparked palpable waves between them, seemingly earning the celestial spheres' exultant endorsement of their union.
However, Aphrodite understood that gratification would not be gleaned so swiftly. The guest had devoted himself entirely to her, and bloodlust thundered within her. But with a scheming mindset and a faint grin gracing her visage, she opted to delay his demise. The present moment was not opportune; too many of Mijako's relatives present, jeopardizing her very existence.
And so, through refined artistry – albeit unwillingly – Aphrodite released the guest from her embrace before planting one final scorching kiss upon his heated brow. He gasped for air as he struggled to regain his thoughts after such an overwhelming encounter, yet could only watch as she gracefully exited the bathroom with the tantalizing allure unique to a seductive enchantress like herself.
"Your life is spared tonight," she murmurously confided near his ear as their fleeting interaction concluded. "Ensure it's worth my patience."
The bathroom door latched quietly as it closed behind her, leaving a trail of smoldering desire and unanswered questions in its wake.
Recomposed with a hammering heart and quivering hands, she resolved to forgo another night of insipid dialogues with restless patrons at the strip club. Mustering all her bravery, Mijako reached for her phone. Hesitantly, her finger hovered above Siraj's number, wavering between dialing or abstaining until finally yielding to the all-consuming force of despair.
Mijako's anxiety intensified as the phone rang, her forehead plagued by anxious perspiration.
"Hello?" Siraj spoke with the assuredness that defined him—a quality that did little to soothe Mijako's frazzled nerves.
"Siraj? Hi... umm... it's Mijako," she hesitantly murmured into the receiver, guilt-ridden for burdening him. As remorse transformed into despondency, an involuntary shudder coursed through her being.
Intrigued by her mysterious tone, Siraj cautiously inquired, "What's the matter?"
Hesitant at first, Mijako took a deep breath before bravely admitting, "I won't be able to make it to work today."
A palpable silence descended, stretching an agonizing three seconds that felt like an eternity for Mijako. She could almost envision Siraj's narrowed eyes and tightly pursed lips, his clenched jaw betraying the weight of this unexpected news.
Finally, breaking the silence with a measured inhale, Siraj's voice dripped with concern as he questioned, "Mijako, what's wrong? Is everything alright?"
His tone momentarily eased her panic, offering a glimmer of hope that perhaps he would understand. Sensing her hesitation, Siraj extended a small token of understanding.
"Don't worry about it, just take the time you need. The customers are eagerly anticipating your return," he reasoned soothingly.
Mijako soaked in his words for a fleeting moment. Gradually, the tension began to dissipate, replaced by a modicum of relief. However, a lingering unease persisted deep within her.
Through sobs, Mijako struggled to apologize, her voice choked with emotion. The truth was, despite Siraj's praise for her dedication, she couldn't face the reality that she might not be strong enough, at least not today. Perhaps tomorrow would bring newfound strength.
"Listen, take the night off and focus on your well-being," Siraj diplomatically suggested, his voice imbued with finality. "Just promise me you'll return feeling better."
Grateful, Mijako acquiesced, offering barely audible promises through sniffles and tears that she would gather herself tomorrow. With heartfelt thanks and tearful goodbyes, the call came to an end. Slowly, Mijako sank to the floor, cradling her heart while silently expressing gratitude to Siraj for his understanding, before eventually returning to the dinner table.
Mijako stood on the threshold of the family dinner table, taking a deep breath. Laughter and conversation filled the air, accompanied by the clatter of cutlery. But beneath the surface, an electric tension crackled, sending a shiver down her spine. It was a foreboding premonition of an impending storm. With a heavy heart, Mijako bid farewell to her family and stepped out into the moonlit night.
As she made her way towards the crumbling remains of her childhood home, the biting cold seemed to wrap around her, urging her to brace herself. Memories flooded her mind, intertwining with the thickened air, blurring the lines between past and present. A sense of foreboding enveloped Mijako as she approached the desolate place where her siblings had conducted their ritual.
The towering house loomed above her, its windows devoid of life. Gone were the days of laughter echoing through its corridors, replaced by whispers and mournful cries. Mijako cautiously pushed open the decaying wooden doors, revealing a dimly lit room shrouded in eerie shadows.
In the center of this macabre space stood a makeshift altar adorned with cryptic symbols and ancient runes—the ethereal thread that bound her to the terrifying succubus, Aphrodite. Four pillars, etched with powerful incantations to banish evil spirits, flanked the altar. With trepidation, Mijako approached, running her fingers over the surface, feeling a surge of ancient magic coursing through her veins. Her hand reached for a small knife lying nearby, its purpose crystal clear.
Suddenly, the room trembled with an unnerving energy, causing Mijako's heart to race with a surge of nausea. Driven by desperation, she chanted the incantation meant to sever the connection between her and the demon. With clenched fists, she pressed the blade against her palm, drawing blood that dripped onto the altar.
Silence descended, engulfing the room in an eerie stillness. Mijako's heart pounded in her ears, her eyes scanning the shadows for a sign that her sacrifice had succeeded in banishing Aphrodite. She yearned for relief from the cursed chains that shackled her to the demoness.
But hope crumbled beneath the weight of bitter reality.
A mocking blast of laughter shattered the fragile tranquility, resounding through the room with cruel amusement. Aphrodite's taunting words echoed in Mijako's mind, as if trapped within a haunted echo chamber. "Did you truly believe you could rid yourself of me so easily, my dear?" the demon jeered. "No mere mortal has the power to sever our bond—I am yours for all eternity."
Fear constricted Mijako's chest, her throat tightening as she struggled against Aphrodite's supernatural hold. Yet, from the depths of darkness, a spark ignited—a flame of defiance clawing its way through impossible odds.
Mijako acknowledged that she could not escape Aphrodite's wicked grasp alone. But she swore to herself that she would not passively allow this demon to devour her soul piece by piece.