Under The Influence

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Summer Rain, Feb 21, 2013.

  1. "Under The Influence"

    Kate could feel the high, but her mind was lost in an abyss of pain and grey fuzziness. She heard voices, people yelling, the music booming. Her ex-boyfriend was somewhere in this room; after she had shot up, he had promised to take care of her. Soon all she saw was a sea of faces, all of them blurs of smiles and colours.

    A rough hand caught her arm, dragging her along. She thought it was Mark until she looked up. The man was much taller than Mark and had much darker hair and skin. He didn't look directly at her, and when she asked him if he knew where her boyfriend was, he just continued on jerking her along. They seemed to be walking up to the main speakers because the music was getting louder and louder. Kate felt like her eardrums were going to burst.

    Soon, though, a heavy door closed behind them. Apparently they were in the men's washroom, because there were urinals on the far wall. The man didn't even bother locking the door. Instead, he just hoisted the curvy, five-foot-six young woman onto the counter. His hands immediately sought her panties and he slipped a hand underneath them. Kate's brow furrowed, but she was too far intoxicated with whatever needle Mark had given her to realize what was happening. She called Mark's name, searching the man's face as his fingers began to probe her...
  2. And everything under the sun is in tune. But the sun is eclipsed by the moon. Fucking radio... Had to put that old music that brought Kestreel memories of a past time. A better one indeed, at least the guys he used to beat he did it for fun and not for living. Finally, Kestreel parked his old car in front of what it looked like a club, or some kind of place with loud music and drugs that could be smelt a mile afar.

    Getting off the car, he took some painkillers of his dark trench-coat and popped a couple of them into his mouth. About to hit the 40 years and still beating punks on drugs... Not exactly what mom and dad would have wanted, but hey, someone had to do it, right? Taking a shogun from the trunk, the tough Russian looking guy grabbed some extra shells and closed the car.

    Walking slowly to the door, he opened it and had to narrow the eyes due to the loud music. What kind of hell had he ended up in.... Kestreel was never the discrete kind of guy, and it wasn't long until some of the 'guards' if a couple of black guys on drugs could be called that, noticed him and tried to shoot Kestreel down. And I said try, because before they even knew, Kestreel killed them, shooting precise shoots at their chests, leaving nothing else than people screaming and a couple of bodies swimming in a pool of their own blood. One of those so called 'guards' came up from inside the bathroom to see what was all that noise... Bad luck dude, you should have stood inside, fucking whatever you were fucking.

    Trying not to step over the blood, Kestreel walked over the dead guards and kept looking for that ass hole he was supposed to punish. 'to give example' said that weird mobster who usually hired him. Well, I don't make the rules.... Oh, there he was, as usual, the last to come out of the burrow, obviously because he had to grab all his money first. "Surprise, motherfucker!" Yelled Kestreel, and BLAM! one less leg to worry about. The man fell to the floor, blood everywhere, money all over the dance floor, stained with drops of blood and pieces of bone and ripped muscle. "Mark right!? Well, Mark, consider today your unlucky day!" And a shoot after that, Kestreel job was done.

    He looked around, about to leave after a job 'well' done. But something catch his eye, his interest so to speak. He slowly walked to the bathroom, just to check on what that, now dead guard, was messing with. And what a surprise... Well, not that surprising, seeing how wasted that girl was. The thing is that something inside Kestreel made him feel 'pity' for that girl. Call it self-redemption if you want, but the thing is that he chose to help her, and so, grabbing her easily with his strong arms, he charged her on his back like a barrel and took her to his car.

    Once there, the way back to his apartment wasn't too long. A little bit noisy, it looked like the cops were slightly faster this time and a few minutes after getting out off that club they seemed to be everywhere. Anyhow, finally getting to his dusty and messy apartment, Kestreel dropped that girl over his bed, and taking a closer look, he sighed and slowly left the room. If she was lucky enough to get over whatever she had taken, maybe tomorrow he would be able to talk with her. But for now, a beer, and a nap on the sofa for him.
  3. Kate felt like her stomach and throat were on fire when she finally woke out of her drug and alcohol induced coma. Her head was pounding, but that was to be expected. She didn’t remember much from last night, besides the loud music and the people screaming. She figured that Mark had just carted her home, as he usually did when she had a hard time staying conscious.

    When she opened her eyes, though, Kate was startled to find herself in an unfamiliar place. Instead of staring at an old Eminem poster, there was a complete 1980’s looking sconce on the wall across from her. As she surveyed the room a little more, she realized that it probably belonged to a man. Shit. Mark was going to kill her. No matter what, he didn’t let her go home with strange men. Despite his heavy drug attention, he made sure that she stayed alive these days. She didn’t have anyone else.

    Slowly rising from the bed, Kate realized that her panties were gone and her dress was hiked up past her hips. Well isn’t that just lovely. Some bastard probably had his way with her while she was completely wasted. It wouldn’t be the first time, but she hated being the girl that got tossed around while she was knocked out. One of these days she was going to catch a fucking STD or something.

    Kate finally rose from the bed and pulled down her dress. The bedroom was rather messy, but not dirty, at least. There was clothing on the floor and what looked like spare bullets. Kate’s brow furrowed slightly and she slowly opened the door, hoping who ever had dragged her here wasn’t going to put up a fuss about her leaving. She’d just have to find Mark and she’d be safe. He was safety for her.
  4. "You're awake. That's good." Said the voice of Kestreel from behind her. He was coming from whatever he was doing and going to the kitchen, so he didn't even stopped to look at her, he simply passed near her. "To be honest, I didn't expected you to wake up." Said him again, really calmed and cool. Then, as he prepared some breakfast with some milk and cereal from some foreign cheap brand, probably 'plastic' flavored.

    Finally, after some clumsy and quick breakfast making, Kestreel put the bowl and a small container with headache pills in the island counter. Then he looked at her and pointed at the food and medicine with his hand. "Eat." Said him as always in his heavy Russian accent. He didn't even knew if that girl talked English, but after a 'party' like the one she had last night, that sign had to be universal for sure.

    After saying anything else, he walked out of the kitchen and sat in front of the main table, not far from there. Kestreel put aside some clothes and some tin cans and from under it appeared a laptop. Once powered up, he began to toy with it, surfing some weird foreign webs, still trying to decide what to do with that gir. Saving her was one thing, but keeping her? Was something completely different.
  5. For awhile Kate just stared at the bowl of cereal in front of her. She immediately went for the pills though, pleased by the typical orange prescription bottle they were in. If they were prescription they were probably high dosage, and that she liked. At twenty-two, Kate had probably tried every pill available through the doctor... or at least that was how it seemed. When she had met Mark four years ago, he had introduced her to the wonderful world of euphoria. And oh, how she was addicted.

    Kate supposed she had taken too many because the man gave her a look when she downed four in a row. The young woman just crossed her ankles though and averted her eyes. The cereal in front of her looked disgusting, and she didn't want to eat it, but she didn't exactly want to defy the man sitting across the room. He was at least ten years her senior, if not more, and impossible broad across the shoulders... not to mention tall. If he wanted her to do something he'd not have a hard time getting her to it.

    After taking a few spoonfuls and swallowing them slowly, Kate turned to the man. His hair was scruffy and he had a distinct dusting of stubble on his squared jaw. Still, he was rather handsome -- rugged, too.

    "Um," she mumbled, catching his attention, "did... do you mind telling me how I got here? Mark... my, well my ex... he's going to kill us both when he realizes that I'm not home. I'm sorry for whatever happened last night, or whatever, but I really gotta get back to his place."
  6. Kestreel kept staring at the screen of the laptop, like he wasn't hearing her at all. But he was, so after a few seconds of focused silence, he stopped looking ath the screen and looked directly to the girl, dead serious as always. "I found you wasted on a bathroom. Probably about to get raped, probably already raped. That, I'm not sure of." Said him with a plain tone of voice.

    "So I took you to my place, so at least you could recover yourself from whatever you got into your veins." This time it could be noticed a mild tone of disgust. Kestreel may drink a little bit too much and, well, kill people for work, but something he really hated were drugs. Drugs and people who smoked cigarettes. "And I wouldn't worry about Mark if I were you. That poor bastard owed some people quite an amount of money. The kind of people you don't want to owe them nothing." Explained him. "He's dead, sweety."
  7. Kate's voice caught in her throat. Dead? There was no fucking way that her ex-boyfriend was dead. After nearly ten years of dealing drugs to the biggest thugs in town, Mark had managed to dodge multiple bullets. He had a knack for hanging around places he knew he wouldn't have trouble and when he did, he was a smooth talker.
    Angerly pushing the bowl away from her, Kate jumped when it fell off the edge and clattered onto the floor. Shards of the porcelain bowl flew everywhere, along with milk and cereal. Kate was visibly fuming, her hands clenched into fists. She was still a little woozy from whatever she had been given last night, and her body was beginning to crave more. Since Mark had been giving her the drugs, she had grown heavily addicted.

    "Fuck you," she seethed, searching for the door, "Mark is not dead. That man got shot in the heart a year ago and lived right now there, didn't even have to go the hospital! So if you really think I'm going to fall for that and stay here for whatever reason, you're sorely mistaken."
    Kate approached him, and despite the fact that he was much larger than her, her anger made her feel invincible. She stared down at him and pressed her fists against her belly, "so unless you want to see me going through withdrawl sometime soon, I suggest you drive me back to that club or to his place."
  8. Kestreel got up, and being almost six feet tall, he looked at her from above. "Believe what you you want, girl. No man survives a 12 gauge to the head." Said him with his usual seriousness. Kestreel never made dumb mistakes at his job, and truth was that Mark guy didn't even had a head after he shoot him point blank in the face. "You want to leave? Feel free to do so. I'm not keeping you here." Said him as he pushed her out of her way and went to the kitchen to patiently clean her mess. "But I recommend you not to go to his apartment. You will only find cops in there. And by your looks, I'm sure cops is the last thing you want to find."

    Then he grabbed a broom and clumsily picked up the mess, tossing it like that into the garbage can. "So, weren't you leaving?" Asked him looking at her, leaning on the counter as he thought about why he had brought her here in the first place... Oh yeah, self redemption.
  9. Kate stared that the large Russian man for a long moment, searching for deception. She could not believe him when he said that Mark was dead; Mark was invincible, couldn't be hurt by a flying bullet... or at least that was how she felt when she was with him. Even though he was ex-boyfriend, he had always protected her, rarely getting hurt in the process.
    But what if he really was dead? She didn't want to believe what this man said but his face was cold and chiveled. For a moment she wondered if he was made out of stone.

    Crossing her arms across her chest, Kate felt her guard begin to lower. Dead? She searched the man again, looking for some indication that he was telling a lie. Again, she came up blank, and her heart began to pound in her chest.
    Mark was her lifeline, her connection to the outside world while keeping her cooped up in her nice little bubble. Though he laid her heavy with drugs every day, he made sure that she was safe. Without him, Kate knew she was vulnerable and prone to getting hurt. Last night at the club had proved that.

    "Why did you kill him?" she seethed, staring him down with dark blue eyes, "what the hell did he ever do to you!"
    She wanted to take that broom out of his hands and knock him over the head with it... not that she was any match for him. She swallowed, feeling the bile begin to rise in her throat, "now where the hell am I going to go? You didn't kill him, I know you didn't! There is no way... he... he wouldn't let it happen. He did nothing to you, who do you think you are?!" And more importantly, what the heck was she going to do with herself?
  10. "Aren't you listening to me? I already told you, he owed big money to the wrong people." Explained him again. "As for where are you going to go now, not my problem, girl. Go find yourself another pimp, what do you want me to say?" Said Kestreel shrugging. Then, thinking about it, he did felt a little bit guilty about it. If he just had left her in that bathroom she would be now in a cell, about to be sent to a women prison so she would be State's issue. But here she was, barely able to stand still, probably about to need another dose of whatever she was getting into her veins.

    "Look, if you want to stay here for a couple of days, you are welcome to do it." Said Kestreel.
  11. Kate cocked a brow at this man. He was an enigma, that was first certain. He looked rough and rugged, the type of man that could kill someone with one punch to the face. However, his demeanor was a lot calmer than a guy his type. His voice rarely wavered, and even as she clenched her fists, he didn't show a hint of anger.
    Kate kept on going back and forth between believing him and not. The story he said made sense; Mark was bad into the drug scene, and she could believe he owed money to a bunch of thugs. Still, was it possible that this man could kill someone in cold blood? She wasn't sure.

    The young woman placed her hands on her hips and stared at the man. He brushed the remaining shards of the bowl into the trace and then placed the broom back. Why he even tried to clean she wasn't sure... this place was a mess, anyways.

    "Stay here?" she asked, brow furrowing, confusion on her face. "And then what's in it for you? Doing a good deed for the poor little drugged girl? I hardly think you're the type to see the appeal in that."
    Still, she had to admit that she had no place to go, no one to protect her. If she tried to get her own drugs she knew she'd probably be killed. She had no money, and then meant she only had few things to offer in return for her fix. And usually, women that went into that sort of thing rarely came out.
  12. "Look at this place. I like it, but I have to assume it is a little bit... Dusty." Well, dusty wasn't the word that most precisely described that mess of a apartment. "Clean it, if you want me to have something I'm 'in it for'." Said him just standing near the kitchen, always with his stare on her, weighing even more than he was. Then, he walked back to the chair he was sitting on and kept working with his laptop, looking at the screen like if he was ignoring everything else.

    "One thing, tho. If you want to stay here, you must begin to say bye to the drugs. I don't want a single gram of that shit in my apartment. That is the only rule." Explained him. "At least, the only one I can come up with right now."
  13. Somehow, the young woman managed to agree. Perhaps she was just afraid of going out into the world and figuring out for herself that Mark was dead. She knew damn well he was gone, she could see no trace of a lie in this man's eyes. For now she supposed that she could hide out here, find a better place to live or someone that would take her as Mark had. She was definitely a dependent woman, and living on her own was nearly out of the question.

    "Fine," she seethed. She was sure she'd be able to find some more of those painkillers in his bathroom cabinet or dresser drawer, and those would hopefully tide her over until she could get out of here. She was never very good at shooting herself up, anyways. Mark had always done it for her, allowing her to relax and enjoy the flow of the drug through her veins.

    "But I need pants," Kate told him, "no way I'm cleaning up this crap with my ass hanging out. I don't know what the hell you did with my panties, but give me something to cover myself at least." The last thing she wanted was this guy all over her.
  14. He turned around and looked at her, somehow threatening, but still, with the same inexpressive, strong face as always.. "Clean this 'crap' and I'll see what can I do." Said him, returning to his doings in the laptop. "If you are afraid I would rape you, don't be it. I found your skinny and sick drugged body not appealing at all." Explained him, not even bothering to put any enthusiasm on those words.

    He kept working in front of her laptop for at least three hours, maybe more, and finally he turned it down, closed it and leaned on the chair. Kestreel didn't really had anything to do, he had already received half of his payment for the last job, and it would be in a couple of days he would receive the other half. Not the way he usually worked, he preferred to receive the whole payment once the job is done, but sometimes there is no choice.

    Having some time to think about nothing, he put some though on what was going on with that girl he had picked up and was now in his apartment. Odd, that's for sure, and not even him understood why he had picked up... No, don't fool yourself, self redemption my ass. "Hey, girl. What's your name?"
  15. Kate began to clean up the apartment in vain, angry that he wouldn't give her something to cover her up. "I don't like your body"; she had heard it a million times before, a way for men to get close without scaring her away. Kate knew she was thin and her ribs poked out awkwardly, but her bust was fuller and she had that coveted little spot between her legs... and really, that was all they cared about in the end.

    She started with the bathroom, throwing all the clothing in a basket to take for laundry. She managed to find some decent cleaner and began to scrub away. By the time she was done, her head was pounding but the bathroom looked better at least. Some of the stains wouldn't come from the tile, but she had tried, at least. Kate was also happy to find that the man kept a nice stash of pain killers and pills in his cabinet. There were so many to choose from, and hoping he wouldn't notice, she grabbed an orange bottle of Adivan from the back. She downed a few before stuffing a good amount in them down her bra.

    When she reentered the kitchen to begin cleaning up the rest of his shit, she looked at him, "Kate."
    Then she mumbled, "you?" Not that she really cared, or that it really mattered. She'd be out of here soon enough, because she knew he definitely didn't want her here.
    "Kestreel," he mumbled gruffly.
    Kate just nodded her head and began to heap the clothing and garbage from the counters and the floors.
  16. He nodded and got up, glancing around quickly and walking to the bedroom. "Well, Kate, I need to leave for a while." Said him from inside the bedroom. A couple of seconds later he appeared again with his trench-coat on, checking the pockets to see what was in them. "Try not to break anything else." Said him and then left, leaving her alone in his apartment. Not that he cared neither, there was nothing of real value in there if she wanted to steal him. And if she did, well, let's just say the last man which tried to rob Kestreel ended up with his hands cut off.

    Kestreel went to take care of some minor business, grab a drink and have some 'fun' looking at some random football match in the pub. He didn't really liked the football, but the cheerful ambiance of the bets and screams did made him feel rather alive. Not as alive as being under fire in Beirut, but less was nothing. Walking back home, he decided to make a stop in a shady strip club he frequented, just to check on the girls, he said to himself. The pink and purple light of the place always disturbed him at the beginning, but Kestreel knew he would get used to it quickly.

    With a quick glance he saw 'Crystal' dancing on the main scenery. Yeah, a really common name in a girl who danced in a club on the afternoon and served men on a hotel room at nights. The kind of girls Kestree alwaysl found himself being friends with. I guess the misery of some is the relief of others... "Honey! Watcha' doin' here?" Said Crystal walking towards him, on the bar, once she was done dancing. "Paying you a visit, of course." Not even flirting he put any emotion. "Oh, my Russian lover..." Muttered her caressing him.

    "Girl, would you do me a favor?" Asked Kestreel. "Sure... But no anal if it's larger than 10 inches..." Said Crystal. "No, not that. I need to borrow some of your clothes." Said Kestreel. "What? What are you, a cross-dresser now?" Said Crystal with a grin. "No. Just give me some of your regular pants." Demanded him. "Alright, alright..." then she left and appeared a couple of minutes later, wearing even less clothes, if that was even possible. "Oh, you can't even imagine how 'sticky' is the manager." Said her giving him a couple of regular pants. "What do you want them for?" But her question was never answered. Kestreel just got up and left.

    The strip club wasn't that far from his apartment, so in a few minutes he made it to his place and walked into it. "I'm back." Said him, enthused about it as much as he always was: zero. "Here, try on this. See if they are your size." Said Kestreel putting the pants on the sofa and sitting again in the same chair than before.
  17. By the time that Kestreel arrived back at the apartment, the majority of it was clean and she was preparing to take a basket of laundry down to the basement. She had taken at least half the bottle of those anxiety pills though, and her head was in the clouds. She could barely even walk straight, much less make it downstairs. She didn't want to bring attention to herself so she just sat in the living room, surveying her handy work and enjoying the high the consumed her.

    Her head was still spinning a bit when he extended the pants out to her. Kate immediately slipped them over her legs, not caring if she was void of panties. She just wanted to get covered up. They were a little loose around her hips but get the job of covering her up. Kate didn't want to know where he had got them from, but she didn't ask, either. God only knows where he had gone.

    Kate didn't want him to see her so high so she traveled into the bedroom. It was one of the only rooms she hadn't completely finished cleaning, but the clothing had been taken off of the floor. Immediately the young woman dove into the bed, inhaling the scent of sweat on the sheets and closing her eyes. Colours and images flashed before her eyes, and she felt like she was floating on a flush cloud. She'd definitely have to keep a stock pile of those pills.
  18. Kestreel was happy to see the house was way more clean now. It wasn't a five star hotel room precisely, bit at least it was even nice to breathe now. Kestreel looked at Julia putting on the pants he had brought for her and then he just leaned on the chair as she got to the bedroom. Taking it easy, he grabbed the painkillers on his trench-coat and put a couple on his mouth. Feeling relieved of his everlasting pain, he sat on the sofa and put the TV on, switching channels for hours until he fell asleep. Again, his bed was of no use for him since the sofa was comfortable enough for him.

    Another nigh passed, and when the day finally came, Kestreel almost instantly got up with the first beams of sun entering his apartment through the windows. Stretching his arms, he yawned and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast, unwillingly doing so only for him. Drinking one of his poorly made coffees, he looked around the apartment and thought about that girl... Kate. What was she up to? He didn't knew how was she holding up, but sure she was keeping the withdrawal pretty good. Suspiciously good, since she still didn't asked him for a relief...
  19. Kate only took one of the pills that morning, just enough to keep her cravings at bay. If she wanted to hide her pill popping from Kestreel, she was going to have to be smart about it. That meant rationing off the pills and making sure she wasn't completely wasted when they crossed paths.
    Her limbs were stiff but she managed to make it out of the bedroom without walking into another. Her dress was hiked up past her hips and her hair was a mess, and she quickly tried to adjust herself. She noted that Kestreel was beginning to make breakfast but ignored him for the most part.

    "Ummm," she murmured, feeling a little woozy and gripping the edge of the counter island, "I... I need to go out... for a bit."

    She left before Kestreel could protest, even if he even cared enough to do that. She slammed the apartment door closed and for a moment just stared down the long corridor. To be honest she had no idea where she was but she figured that the rougher part of town couldn't be that big.
    Eventually she made it out onto the streets and was happy that she knew where she was. In fact, Mark's apartment was just a few blocks down, in an old building that required very low rent and didn't mind the constant coming and going of dealers.
    She stumbled along the sidewalk, but as she approached the side door to the apartment, Kate was surprised to find that it was crossed off with police tape. A sign nailed to the door said "Now the Property of County Police".
    Tears came to Kate's eyes; Mark was dead. God, she needed another pill... or ever better... a good shot in her veins. Tears came to her eyes as she began to make her way back to Kestreel's apartment complex. Where else was she supposed to go now? That man was her last lifetime, and with Mark gone, he was the only person she could turn to.

    She was still crying softly, hot tears running down her face, when she returned to the apartment building. She hadn't been gone all that long, but she could feel that the Adivan was already beginning to wear off.
    Once she closed the apartment door behind her, she caught Kestreel's gaze. Kate sighed and looked at her feet, "y-you and I both know that... that I'm stuck here. Mark.... he... Mark is dead. So, I imagine we need a strike a deal... because you and I both know that I can't go back out there on my own again."
  20. Kestreel just shrugged when Kate left and he kept doing his stuff as usual. Once she returned, he did felt confused. Not that he had forbidden her to go check on Mark, not even that he cared if she did, but hearing her, he was a little bit disappointed. He had warned her, still, she didn't believed her and had to go check for it on herself. Listening to her sobs in silence, Kestreel looked at her and thought about her words.

    "One thing is to let you stay here a couple of days, and one totally different is asking me to take care of you." Said him. but there was something about that idea that didn't felt all that wrong. Something that made Kestreel think about it. "What do you have to offer?"