(Note: This chapter is written in Seraphim's POV, all other chapters will be written in Jaxine's unless noted otherwise.)
TRIGGER WARNING: suicide, arson, toxic/abusive relationships
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Friday January 12th 2018
19 days until the Lunar Eclipse and the Lunar Masquerade
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How I despise men.
Don't get me wrong, they're excellent customers and easy to seduce, but DAMN do they feel entitled. It's absolutely ridiculous, they always think they own you or something else primitive.
Then again, that's the beauty of the American Dream, you capitalize on the white man and make them work for you! My mama didn't haul ass outta Costa Rica all them damn years ago for no reason did she not? That's what she taught me when I was young, and I've held those words dear ever since.
She ALSO was a prostitute and a stripper, and little me aspired to follow in her footsteps.
You wanna know a secret? I still do.
I grew up in the same strip club/brothel she worked AND lived in. What? We didn't have much other options of housing other than to live there with the owner. She didn't try to hide her profession from me, not like she had a choice, but instead she embraced it and taught me to do whatever I wanted with my life. She didn't care if I wanted to be like her, actually she preferred it, claiming once I got old enough I could work in the club and she wouldn't have to worry about paying for college.
Poor woman, she could barely speak english and had me when she was only 20. As a kid, I ended up having to teach her english along with some other things about America that she didn't know.
Growing up in a strip club wasn't all bad, I got lots of other mothers other than mine, who loved and cared for me like their own. Were all my toys some variation of a sex toy? Yes but that's irrelevant.
But right now my focus isn't on my problematic childhood, it's on the present aggrievance at hand, which is this dumbass basketball jock who thinks he's actually gonna run with me for Lunar Prince and Princess.
His name is August, a pretty name for such a bland piece of shit.
He's one of those guys who thinks he has girls groveling at his feet but in reality most girls fawn over him because he's co-captain of the basketball team and are desperately trying to be the next Kyra and Trey, NOT because he's actually attractive.
I'm surprised he even came to me, usually his ass goes for easy targets like freshman girls, I've even caught him hanging around the middle school dances like a total creep, so you can imagine my reaction when he came up to me yesterday morning with a good 600 dollars in cash.
That's roughly 90 hours of my service, which is 6 hours short of 4 days. Which also means I have to let this lowlife cling to my skirt like a child for four days, and we're already 24 hours in and I wanna die.
I'll admit, he has good stroke game, but his foreplay is so boring and rehearsed I almost felt like I was back in middle school again; when the only thing people knew how to do is the rushed shit they saw in porn.
Yes, if you didn't hear already, I've been doing this shit since seventh grade, "selling myself" to my fellow horny 13 year old peers. I honestly forget who I lost my virginity to, probably some random sophomore boyfriend of mine. I mean, I had like two at once and they were twins, how am I supposed to remember who fucked me first?
Somewhere down the line a customer gave my ass HPV and since I couldn't afford the vaccine I ended up getting it but that's a different story for a different day.
Regardless, August actually thinks he has the right to run with me for Lunar Prince and Princess.
This is what happens when men try to use their brains to think and not their dicks; they start hallucinating and speak nonsense.
It's only out of the 11th and 12th grades for us, so competition won't be stiff since Rylene is still in 10th grade and her and AJ can't run together for that. The sophomores and freshman will elect their own Lunar Prince and Princess somehow, they're all so hideous I can't imagine them actually selecting someone decent.
He's also obsessed with calling me angel, like a little pet name or something. Don't get me wrong, I'm the kinkiest bitch in this goddamn town but I absolutely cannot STAND that pet name. It's such a turn off, but he's the paying customer so I guess I have to pretend to like it.
"angel" this and "angel" that; God, I just want to rip out his vocal cords.
Regardless, August won't be running for shit with me, he DOESN'T own my ass and doesn't tell me what to do. I'll run by myself like I always do, I don't need some puta in heat to accompany me for shit. He's not even one of my boyfriends, so why he thinks he can just flat out tell me I'm gonna run for Lunar Prince and Princess with him and think I'll just happily oblige is beyond me.
No one tells me, Seraphim Talia Diablo, what the fuck to do and when the fuck to do it. Last I checked my mama been dead and my father don't even know I exist. I'm my own badass bitch and will be treated and respected accordingly.
August is currently trying to skip his class and fuck, and though the offer sounds tempting, I have another pressing problem that requires my attention. Norah-my pussy has cobwebs-Jones is talking a hole in my head and for my sanity I have to pretend to be listening.
"You don't understand Sera, I'm genuinely unconvinced you found the right person. Not anyone can pull of being a Sinner....you do know this right? This isn't one of your nasty little customers or whatever, this is our whole identity on the line if you fuck this up and are careless with your decision!" She remarks before taking a loud sip of her vintage Fresca soda that I've grown to hate over the years this blonde bitch and I have been living together.
You would THINK this dumb bitch wouldn't be the messiest person alive, but oh how she is, and it's ridiculous. She always uses the excuse that she had maids cleaning up after her hand and foot, so she "never learned to clean up after herself". That was back before we lived together, but now I find those green glass bottles everywhere and I can't tell you how many times I've almost stepped on them, it gets on my last nerve.
Anyways, Norah's overreacting as usual, what else is new.
She lacks faith in my decision for some reason, like I already haven't considered any and every possibility of this backfiring on all of us. Adding someone new to our clique is already a scandal of its own, but the possibility of that same person staining our reputation and making a fool of themselves is an even worse one! The amount of mess and shit we'd have to clean up would be catastrophic and take months, maybe even years before it's completely fixed!
Talk about a total meltdown, I get shivers thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.
Which is why I was extremely careful in observing and selecting candidates.
It obviously couldn't be any one of my former customers, that would be absolutely scandalous. It also would have to be someone we didn't know very well, and not one of our many wannabes who cling to us like a lost puppy in desperate hopes that they'll get noticed by us.
It also can't be any one of the weirdos who are apart of Ivy's not-so-secret cult, they wouldn't know what to do and probably try to steal her bra again or cut her hair for some shrine. They'd die from over excitement and would be foaming at the mouth like rabid dogs.
In other words, I want a total stranger who admires us from afar or wants nothing to do with us.
They'll be easy to manipulate and toy with, not as easily as someone who already worships us, but enough to bring out the most desirable traits that Ivy wants to see.
I've narrowed down my search to two or three girls, no boys; they'd be too busy trying to fuck us.
Their names are as follows;
Airyin Jackson
Fallon Chichester
Jaxine Holloway
I chose Airyin because she's Father Matthias' daughter and he and I have a bone to pick. He cheated on his wife with some other puta and then tried to frame me for it! Fucking pedophile, he probably didn't even know how old I was, then again, most don't know how old I am. How are you gonna blame a whore you've only heard of through town gossip? I'm glad his dumbass wife believed him, she didn't dare confront me or anyone else about it. Anyways, Airyin is his precious little virgin flower who I've been craving to defile ever since that day. She would make a perfect Sinner; easy to manipulate, charismatic and pretty enough to be one. My mouth waters at the thought of revealing the sexy devil I know she is; every angel is a demon in disguise and I know all those years of sexual repression have turned her into the perfect passive-aggressive little bitch! All I need to do is convince Ivy that we can bring that side of her out, and somehow detach her from those freaks Vera and Blakely.
Fallon is another tempting choice. She's totally off her rocker and isolated from everyone. She reminds me of Harley Quinn, Fallon gave up everything she had and blindly followed her boyfriend until death did them part. Said boyfriend was a psychopath, he set his own apartment complex on fire and claimed to be some reincarnation of a god. Of course, he was several years her senior and although Fallon had part in the crime, all she got was a year of juvie and counseling. Her boyfriend however, offed himself before the cops caught him. I only know of the two of them because Fallon wanted me to have a threesome with them back when we were younger. When was that? Freshman year? I think so. Regardless, Fallon hasn't been the same since then, yet she radiates so much potential. So much pain and angst just waiting to be unleashed on the world, she'll be easy to shape into whatever we want and once we get her started, we won't have to babysit her. She'd fall into the role of a Sinner naturally, but she's not really that pretty anymore. Psychopath boyfriend drove her to carve his initials into the skin of her cheek, and it never really healed properly. It wasn't that hideous two years ago, but that was when she actually took care of her appearance, now the poor thing looks like a waxy corpse. It's a shame, her haunted appearance is the only thing keeping her from being the sure choice.
The newest candidate is little miss Jaxine. Out of the other two, she's the one who allures me the most. She's not been the easiest to figure out, but she constantly looks like she's conflicted. As mi mama once said, a stormy mind makes for a sirened heart. Jaxine'll be so busy overthinking that she'll do anything to relieve her mind and give in to her heart, of which I plan to control. She's attractive by my standards, my mouth waters at what she'll look like once we get to make her over and have her put effort into her appearance. She keeps me guessing, the little brat isn't as 2D as I previously thought, which is a good trait for a Sinner to have. Ivy already likes her, she says it's fun to harass her and that she's easy to control, which I don't find hard to believe. Jaxine is a character all right, she pretends she isn't bothered with us yet obeys us like everyone else. She seems like a fun one to toy with, and she'll be harder to seduce since all my typical charms seem to not work on her.
I never back down from a challenge, and I always like it when my prey fights me before it gets snared. It only makes the catch much more rewarding.
Which is why I'm currently seriously considering her over the other two, but I can't help but to not ignore how temptingly dark Fallon seems. Usually when I can't make up my mind about two people I just fuck them and then make my decision by who made me cum the most, but this isn't as black and white as that. Like Norah said, our whole identity is on the line if I fuck this up, actual fucking won't help.
Sighing, I rub my temples in frustration, not used to actually have to use my brain to make hard decisions.
"Oh? Seraphim is actually speechless for once? Where's my phone, I need to record this and send it to Ivy, she'd crack up seeing you be such a candyass." Norah said with a sneer as she danced her fingers in front of my face.
I immediately snap back at her, "Such a bold statement for someone who can barely work their damn iPhone! The sixties called, they want their preppy sosh bitch back."
Norah only snickered at my response, running a hand through her messy hair before taking another obnoxious sip of her fresca.
"Enough talk you dumb whore, you're not even worth a response from me. I just wanted to make sure you were absolutely sure about what the fuck we're about to do. This isn't an easy decision and I will not let some skag stain my reputation because of your carelessness Seraphim. Is that clear to you or am I not speaking english?" The blonde remarks, a harsh tone to her voice as she raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at me.
I roll my eyes at her, choosing instead to admire how cute she looks when she's mad.
Norah has denied my advances profusely in the past, claiming she's better than me and whatnot. Though I fiercely believe she'd be less uptight if she actually got some good head every now and then, she laughs everytime I tell her that. Jokes on her, I only tried to seduce her in the past because of that reason; now I realize she's too far up her own ass and busy making out with her own reflection to even entertain sex with anyone.
Still, she is cute when she's mad, her nose scrunches up like a button and her eyes are like a cats, aflame with an anger that would send anyone who didn't know her running. Thin round lips are fashioned into this weird pouty smirk she does, and it's somewhat adorable.
Norah has a sense of stuck up vintage innocence to her that would make any guy want to deflower her and have her writhing and begging underneath them.
It's a shame she's the way she is, she'd make a lot of money if she were like me. I'm sure plenty of rich sporty white boys wouldn't hesitate to pay whatever she asked if it meant they got to fuck her.
Sighing, I look down at my phone to see three text notifications from August.
Shitty Porn Star (August):
hey angel ;)
Sent at 11:04
Shitty Porn Star (August):
don't ignore me you illegal alien bitch
Sent at 11:10
Shitty Porn Star (August):
Come fuck me
Sent at 11:11
And this ladies and gentlemen, is why I will never, ever, ever fuck a white boy for free. Like most white boys, August irks my nerves and he's an insensitive piece of shit who thinks having edgy (racist) dark humor is an actual personality trait. Though I will never let anyone fuck me for free, free sex with white boys is a absolute hell fucking no. It's damn near a sin! I don't care if they pay the most, I don't care if they look like young Leonardo Dicaprio, they're filth to me and smell like it too.
August claims he's mixed but everyone and their mother knows his pale ass isn't. He's the only white boy on the basketball team, so I see why he says he is, but his looks tell otherwise.
Regardless how disgusted I am with him, right now he wants to fuck and he's paying me to do just that with him.
Still, what's making him wait a few more minutes?
With another sigh, I reluctantly give my attention back to Norah, who was still glaring at me over the rim of her fresca bottle. Her eyebrow was still raised at me, almost as if she was daring me to speak.
I like dares.
"You have no reason to worry mi muneca, I know you think I haven't thought this through but you just gotta trust me. I know what I'm doing and besides, we're running out of time and we can't keep stalling. The eclipse is in two weeks, Ivy and our mistress will skin us alive if we don't have someone before then." I reassure her, taking the glass bottle of fresca from her hand and taking a sip of it.
Her eyes widen for a split second before she scoffs, snatching the vintage soda from me with haste.
"Get your filthy hands off my drink you cheap slut." She screeches, inspecting the bottle for imaginary stains before returning her attention back to me. "I'm aware of the deadline Seraph, but for my sake just wait until next week. Once we do this there's no going back, no backspaces, no second guessing. Now come on, Ivy just texted and said she needs backup."
Again? Ivy only calls us for backup if some lunatic from her cult is trying to snatch her, which rarely happens because they're usually all so scared of her.
It makes me laugh, it's one of the rare times you catch her off guard. It makes me remember why Ivy is my best friend, though sometimes I wish she was one of my girlfriend's. If she was, she'd be my favorite, alas, she only sees me that way when she wants a threesome with someone.
Nevertheless, the look on her face whenever Norah and I come rescue her is priceless.
Looks like August will just have to wait a little bit longer, these pesky cultists require me to get my hands dirty and not in the way that I like.
Sighing, I stand up from where I'm sitting and toss my hair over my shoulder. I look down at my skirt, a sheer purple maxi skirt with a thigh high slit on the left side, and smooth it out so that it wasn't wrinkled. Unlike most stereotypical school whores, I don't wear teeny tiny mini skirts that barely cover the crack of my ass.
I have my fair share of those skirts, but I usually save them for when its warmer outside.
Take today for example, I'm wearing nothing but a black long sleeve teddy and this purple skirt. I don't get cold really easily, and our school is one of the only public schools with a functioning HVAC system. They keep it hellishly hot in here, so it's not like dressing warmer matters.
I walk over behind Norah and pull her chair out so that she can stand, the click clack of her teeny tiny kitten heels the only sound in the room.
Today, the pretentious bitch was dressed in those outdated toddler heels and black knit thigh high socks. Paired with yellow tweed high waisted shorts and a black silk blouse that I've been ready to throw away since she bought it, she looked nothing short of a pretentious bitch.
Of course, her look wouldn't be complete without the long strand of pearls dangling from her neck that totally isn't a safety hazard.
She claims they're a "family heirloom" and wears them everyday, I'm surprised they're still white, you would think they'd be stained with wine or sweat but no, the dumb bitch spends and hour every morning solely dedicated to bleaching them and making sure they shine like "baby moons" as she puts it.
After clearing her throat, Norah grabs me by my wrist and drags me out the library and into the hallway.
A few moments later of Norah muttering and swearing under her breath about how useless I am, we arrive at the Hellevator. The soft ding signals the opening of the forest green elevator doors and the two of us step inside.
It was only then did Norah finally let go of my wrist.
The walls of the inside of the Hellevator were black with a gold lace pattern painted elegantly over top of it. The very back wall had a large mirror hung on it, and the word "Hellevator" was painted in red on the wall above it. Underneath the mirror was a shelf with three bottles of liquor; Hennessy, which was Ivy's favorite, Sangria, which is my absolute favorite, and boring ass Moonshine for Norah. There was a shot glass next to each bottle and I didn't hesitate to reach in my purse for my flask so I could refill it with the fruity wine.
Norah sees this and scoffs before reaching in her purse and doing the same.
Like she's one to scoff! The blonde bitch is a serial alcoholic at only 18 years old! She's worse of a drunk than Vera White! Which of course I only know because Ivy put the two of them up to a drinking contest at our afterparty after homecoming. I'm surprised neither one of them has alcohol poisoning, not to mention Norah's flask is so big it could be mistaken as a clutch purse if you weren't paying attention.
Vera White is an irrelevant wannabe badass who doesn't hide her addiction to that silver flask of hers. She's a waste of space and shouldn't still be in the 11th grade at almost 19 years old, that's how dumb she is.
I scowl as I watch Norah fill her flask up to the brim with greedy hazel eyes as she sets the bottle of Midnight Moon down on the shelf.
I do the same with my flask, slightly mesmerized by the dark red liquid flowing into the purple flask with ease. Sangria and tequila are the best liquors ever made, and I love both of them more than anything or anyone. It doesn't matter that I'm not 21 yet, everyone in this accursed town drinks underage! Shit, we drunk beer in middle school like it was fucking water right in front of the teachers! No one gives a fuck in this town and I love it.
Besides, it's best to be a little tipsy when going into a mob of frenzied cultists.
Suddenly the elevator chimes, signaling that we've arrived at our destination, the 4th floor where Ivy's office is.
Ivy has her own office because she runs the school newspaper and that's where the club who used to write it met. That club has since disbanded and now Ivy runs it all by herself, which unfortunately makes her an easy target for her rabid fans.
Stepping out the elevator I take a few hurried sips from my flask as the two of us strut down the cobblestone hallway. Norah is busy tying her hair into a ponytail beside me and I hand her my flask so she can put in that obnoxiously big purse of hers.
If I actually cared, I'd put my hair into a ponytail too but before I can even pester Norah for a hair tie I hear the all too familiar screech of Ivy's voice.
"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU ANIMALS!" She says, followed by what sounds like a chair hitting the floor.
Norah and I exchange a worried look before sprinting down the hallway.
I swear this girl is gonna be the death of us one day. My back hurts cause of August and his stupid obsession with wall sex so I can barely fucking run, let alone in these accursed gladiator heels.
We finally reach the end of the hallway to her office and I have to fight the urge to bust out laughing at the sight before us.
Ivy was currently standing on her desk, a yardstick her only weapon against the seven or so cultists surrounding her at every angle. Two of them had rope in their hands that they most definitely stole from the janitors closet and the others were armed with baseball bats and textbooks.
The cultists were all dressed in white hoodies and black jeans, the hoods zipping up to cover their faces. The leader of this whole scheme was wearing that ridiculous black cape and had left their hoodie unzipped so that you could see their face.
From where we were standing, I couldn't see who it was but I didn't have to wait long to find out.
"Surrender my goddess Ivy-Renee! Your loyal servants have arrived to escort you to paradise! You will not deny us and our worship any longer! I, Lady Vantablack shall not back down this time! You will come with us willingly, or else." The leader in the black cape screeches, pointing her baseball bat threateningly at Ivy, who rolls her eyes at the gesture.
Lady Vantablack is really this crazy bitch named Danny who terrorizes the student body on a daily basis with her stupid conspiracy theories and other bullshit. She is no stranger to Ivy's cult, and deems herself one of the leaders of the rabid fanbase.
It was then did Norah and I make our presence known by laughing hysterically at the situation.
At whiplash inducing speed, all heads in the room turn to the doorway of the office where we were standing. A look of relief makes its way onto Ivy's face and Danny-I mean Lady Vantablack-scowls at us with narrowed eyes.
"What're you two doing here?! I don't have the resources here to escort you two as well but I shall try regardless!" She screeches, pointing the offending baseball bat at us now.
"Seize them!"
Suddenly three of them charge in our direction and Norah and I share a knowing smirk before closing the door behind us.
I don't particularly like getting my hands dirty this way, but it will have to do for now.
Fighting dumbass cultists is truly an angel's misery, and I hate being miserable.
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