2 long days later.
"What will it be?" Alfredo sauce asks me. Once again, he's hidden within the shadows across the room. I'm beginning to think that he has some disfiguration in his face or body so he doesn't want to show himself.
"I really don't know what this Skeleton Key is. I have heard that a skeleton key opens like everything but I don't know how this relates to me?" I sit upright on the bed. There's a bonus: I woke up yesterday to three feet long chains attached to my restraints. Now I can actually have some sort of mobility. The downside is that the chains are very heavy that I can barely move. It does make a great weight exercise, if only I could lift them.
"I see," he comments. "It's a pity. I guess we have no use for you." Wow, his voice holds not the slightest bit of pity. He wins the trophy to the Most Indifferent Person I Have Ever Met. He whips out his gun and unlocks the safety. I gulp as I look at the barrel of the gun. I wish I could see the face of my killer before I die. I will also haunt his ass when I come back as a ghost. I consider for a brief moment trying to fight back, but where can I go in a closed room with barred windows?
Goodbye Mom, Pearl, Skyler, and Netflix. I will miss you dearly...
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the bullet to hit me. Any day now....
Surprisingly, I feel calm. I've always accepted that I'd die because of my family somehow. It was how our life was. Still, I didn't expect it to be at the age of seventeen. Oh wait, I think I'm eighteen now.
It's completely silent still? I open one of my eyes slowly. There's no one here. Alfredo sauce has disappeared.
So much for his death threats, I huff. It's not like I wanted to die. It's just a tad disappointing since I was prepared, but I'm thankful I get to live another day.
I glance around and head back to tugging on my chains. They seem to weigh thirty pounds, which isn't supposed to be heavy for me but I have been hospitalized and bedridden. Plus, they barely give me anything to eat.
With my feeble strength, the chains are not going to be broken any time soon. I sigh and rest my head on the pillow. I'm glad they at least gave me a bed with pillows and blankets. It makes me wonder why I'm alive since I have said I don't know where or what the skeleton key is. I mull over the options: I guess I could be a bargaining chip with the Riccas, or I could be sold for a hefty price in sex trafficking. I honestly don't know which one I would prefer.
It's better not to think so negatively. I'd rather plot Alfredro's death in my mind. Perhaps I shall plunk him in boiling Alfredo sauce. I just need to find a life-size pot that is big enough to boil him in. I guess that wouldn't work.
I perk up as I hear the door unlock. "Who is it this time?"
It's someone I've never seen before. The man looks like he has taken steroids from day one judging by his bulgy biceps beneath his straining t-shirt. I worry for his black shirt, any second from now it seems it wil burst. I don't think he and i are at that stage of a relationship if you know what I mean. He glances at me silently underneath his tinted glasses and inserts a key into my chains.
As soon as he release me, I shout, "Freedom!" I try to escape; however, he easily grabs my body and lifts me onto his shoulder. His shoulder is as hard as a rock and pokes me in all the wrong places. I grimace in pain at every step he takes. That plan totally failed.
"So what's your name?" I bombard him with questions. I want to meet my new best friend. "Where are we going? Are you my knight in shining armor here to save the damsel in distress? Why are you so grumpy? How old are you? Do you take steroids on a daily basis? Am I about to get tortured?"
The neanderthal must not speak English. He doesn't react to any of my questions and continues walking. Wow, where does Alfredo Sauce get his lap dogs? They all seem as robotic as him!
"Well, this is very one-sided! Can you speak Italian? You look more European though," I scrutinize his facial features. He has the Hollister model look going if I ignore the bodybuilder shape and buzz cut.
He barely glances at me as he continues walking. I try to memorize the turns he makes and the interior of the place. It gets disorienting trying to observe the interior as I swing upside down. 8 steps forward, three steps right, four steps forward, up stairs twelve steps...
"I'm guessing you wouldn't be so kind as to tell me what's behind that door?" I laugh weakly as he pauses in front of bolted door. From experience, bolted doors are like that for a reason.
He gives three sharp raps before the door swings open. I squirm around to try to see what's in the room. He does leg day, so it is quite difficult to see between his legs. Regardless of my obscured field of vision, I can hear as clear as daylight.
"No! No! Please, don't do it! Please! I'll do anything! Anything! I'll give you anything!" A man cries loudly.
"Anything?" I recognize this voice.
"Yes! I'll do anything! Just please don't kill us!" He continues to beg. "Don't kill her! Take me! Keep her alive please. She's innocent!"
Of course, Mr. Steroid enters the room and drops me before exiting. I sit there quietly as I survey the scene. There's a middle-aged man huddling in front of a distraught young woman tied up in a wooden chair. They both look beaten and worn. I assume the tear-streaked lady shaking her head is his daughter.
The purpose of this room is obvious with all the faded and fresh blood stains all over.
I finally dare to glance at the man with the gun, afraid of who I'll see. His eyes are the first thing I notice. His crystal blue eyes the color of warm, blue skies but reminded me of my father's frigid eyes. I feel for those who face the power of his glare. I expected him to be some shade of ugly, or evilness. I wanted Alfredo to be a sinister, creepy man with some disfiguring face. You don't go through this line of business without a few scars. No, this man had to be young, powerful, and handsome. The embodiment of a dangerous boss. I don't even know where men like him come from. They don't exist in real life. Immaculate men like him only appeared in magazines or in womens' fantasies.
His eyes hold no hint of sympathy and an experience well beyond his years. This guy could not be any less than mid-twenties. Where did he come from? I'm seriously questioning who his creator is, or what I have done to have gotten such cursed luck.
I have never feared a man more than Giovanni Ricca, a man I swore never to speak or think of ever again. I didn't think I would ever meet a man more terrifying and apathetic than Giovanni.
Alfredo Acerbi. This man is Alfredo Acerbi. A deep fear roots itself in my stomach and spreads throughout my body. I am paralyzed as I sit on the cold cement.
"Mr. Whittaker, I will offer you a deal." I watch as he smiles at the father and daughter. I know that smile. I used to see it everyday of my life. I'm beginning to regret ever leaving that stupid school. I liked my life, even if I was treated like a social outcast. You know what? This is all Jacob's fault! I'm going to make his life a living hell if I make this out alive. He will wish he never sparked my fury.
"Yes! I will do whatever you ask..." Mr. Whittaker all but licks the Alfredo's shoes. I want to do something, anything to stop him from digging his own grave. I know how this all ends.
"I have yet to tell you my deal," the man continues to smile. I silently hope he has a shred of decency to leave Whittaker's daughter alive and well.
With a slight nod of Alfredo's head, a group of Mr. Steroid's replicas appear with a metal table. They place it between Alfredo and Whittaker. Whittaker is roughly lifted to his feet and brought to the table as he faces Alfredo. The old man looks smaller and frailer as he shrinks away from Alfredo.
Two Berettta 92 FS rests together on the table.
"You have the chance of killing me. If you can grab the gun and shoot me faster than me, I will let you and your daughter free. If not, you will die."
I cannot bear to watch this. I always hated when innocent civillians were involved. Murdering, killing, assassinating...I hated them. I know what will happen. Alfredo is a sick bastard. He's one of those people who like playing with their prey before they kill them in cold blood.
"Deal." Mr. Whittaker nods. The wrinkles framing his face deepen as he concentrates on the guns, waiting for the signal. His face glistens with perspiration as he fidgets. The poor guy, he is duped from the start. He looks like the everday typical father who has never held a gun before.
"O-on t-three right?" Mr. Whittaker stutters nervously as he wipes his palms on his bloodstained cardigan.
Move. MOVE DAMN YOU! I scream at my legs, but my body refuses to cooperate. I sit stuck to the ground in fear as I watch them. Save him! You can save him! You can save a life! An innocent!
"1..2.." Whittaker counts shakingly. On three, he grabs the gun and pulls the trigger. Stupid! Your safety is still on! NO!
"W-what?" Whittaker stares at the gun in confusion. Looking up, his swollen and bruised eyes widen at the sight of Alfredo's gun. "Y-you.." A flash of fear shows on his face as he fumbles with the safety.
Alfredo merely shrugs and pulls the trigger. The bullet escapes the gun and lands in the center of Whittaker's forehead perfectly, almost artfully.
"Noooooooooooo!" His daughter screams through her tape as the blood splatters on her face. She sobs as she her father drops to the ground with his fearful expression on the ground.
Alfredo turns around and stares at the girl for a few minutes. "Throw her with the rest of the girls." He orders his men as they carry her out.
Drops of water fall on my hands. I touch my cheeks. It's been a while since I have cried, cried for a human no less. I slowly lift myself off the ground, wobbling as I try to stand up myself. I almost fall the first few times. When I feel steady enough, I run to the gun in Whittaker's hand. With a switf moment, I bring it up and aim it at Alfredo's head.
"Hands up." My voice comes out weakly. "Turn around." He follows my commands.
"What are you going to do with her?" I ask as I watch him closely, steadying my arm as best I can. After a few seconds, my arms began to quake uncontrollably from the weight of the gun. I hold the gun two-handed and grimace at my show of weakness. "And who are the other girls?"
There is a pause as he seems to contemplate. He settles with a contemptuous smirk.
"Sex trafficking." I sigh and aim to shoot at him. How typical. If it's the last thing I do, I will try to save as many girls from this sick bastard. . "Any last words?"
"You're not going to shoot me." He steps toward me.
"Yes, i am." I point to the gun directed at his head as I keep myself distanced from him.
In a blink of an eye, he steps and takes the gun away from me. He swings around and I end up with my back to him, gun pointed to my head. "No, you're not." He whispers into my ear in that annoyingly smooth voice of his.
"Is this some sick lesson of yours?" I try to throw him over my shoulder, but his warm body is rooted in the position. "I don't have what you want."
"Of course you don't," he arches his brow at me amusingly.
"I will not try to escape. Will you let me go now?" I utter quietly, trying to conceal how uncomfortable I am.
"Does this bother you?" The cold barrel of the gun is pushed harder into my temple as he grabs me in a tighter embrace.
Yes, it bothers me. I can feel your hard rock of a body pressing into my back while I wait for the gun to fire. Plus, it doesn't help that you're aggravatingly hot, and I have lived a sheltered life with my family until I was fourteen. Then, I spent the next four years avoiding people in general. And then some gorgeous guy named Jacob Smith pops out of nowhere and wants to be my best friend. So of course, I'm fine and dandy right now.
I choose to say, "Well, I would totally appreciate if you didn't point a fu**ing gun at my head?"
To my surprise, he actually lets go and puts away the gun.
"I do have a soul," he replies as my look of bewilderment. I can't figure him out at all. I still think he's an emotionless villian regardless. He murdered someone in cold blood in front of the man's own daughter.
"I thought it was trapped in hell," I rumble under my breath.
"I'm going to say this one last time. Where is the Skeleton Key? We can do this the easy or hard way," He repeats as he dabs his clothes with a hankerchief. Suddenly, he shoots straight at me with his gun.
The bullet misses me, but I feel it whoosh past my left ear and land in the wall behind me.
"I'm not going to miss next time." This time he's serious.
I may not like the Ricca family a lot, but I would never betray them to an enemy. In the end, they were my blood family. The only question was: Would I die for them?
"Wait," I say.
A/n __________________________________________
This was such a loooonnnnnnggggggg chapter that I hope i didn't end up boring all of you X_X I sincerely apologize if I did AND IF YOU FELL ALSSEEEPP AND PLEASE COMMENT TO LEMMEE KNOW LOL!!! <3
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WHO SHOULD PLAY AS ALFREDO? i was thinking Francisco Lachowski? IDEAS! And who shall play Shay and Jacob!?!?!