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[Drika]
My consciousness returns as I slowly open my eyes, feeling a pounding headache pulsing inside my skull.
"Shiiit, what did I get myself into?" I murmur quietly as I look around.
The smell of oil and rust saturates the air. Old, rusty tools are scattered on workbenches. The concrete walls are covered in faded graffiti, and the corrugated metal roof creaks with every gust of wind. It's a horror movie setting, and it feels like I'm the protagonist about to meet her end.
Dom and that monster must have brought me here while I was unconscious.
'All this for selling drugs to kids on her turf?' I think silently. 'Did I know it was going get fucked? For sure! But Dom's family is only the third thing I fear most nowadays, the second is that human who dresses like a fake-ass knight… and the first-.'
"Good morning, sunshine," says an irritating male voice, cutting off my thoughts.
I try to move away, but thick chains bind me to the ground, forcing me to stay seated. The cold metal scrapes against my skin, sending chills down my spine. My muscles tense, ready to fight, but I'm trapped, vulnerable.
"Get lost, you piece of shit," I growl, my voice echoing through the abandoned warehouse.
Marcus's figure emerges from the shadows, his firm steps echoing through the empty space.
As he approaches I feel my body stiffs, all my instincts shout to flee as he stares at me with his green and an irritating smile on his lips.
My body trembles as I start to lose control of it. I want to scream, curse, or do anything to get out of this situation. But I'm paralyzed, fear and rage mixing into an explosive cocktail.
Marcus notices, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh aloud at me. The sound echoes through the warehouse, amplifying my humiliation.
"What's so funny, you idiot?" I spit the words out, trying to sound threatening, but my voice comes out shaky. "Are you some kind of sick male who enjoys others suffering?"
"Actually I'm worse than that." He says winking at me.
As he steps closer, each footstep reverberates on the concrete floor. His smile widens, and I swear if I wasn't chained, I would've already jumped on him.
"You should be thankful, Drika," his voice is calm, almost gentle, pissing me off even more. "Instead of punishing you, you're just gonna have a talk with her," the human concludes, pointing behind me.
I turn, trying to see who he pointed to, but I get punched on the side of my snout.
POW!
"Father fucker!" I curse, my face throbbing in pain.
I raise my head, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Dominika is standing behind me, her eyes blazing with fury. Her fist is still clenched, the fur on her knuckles stained with my blood.
"That was just a warning, Drika," her voice is a low growl, loaded with threat, "to society the urge I have to beat you to death for selling drugs to kids on my turf."
I try to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat. Fear and pain mix, forming a tight knot in my chest. Dominika steps closer, her shadow looming over my chained body. Her gaze is intense, penetrating, as if she could see right through me.
"Shit!" I curse in a yeal.
My heart races, thumping erratically against my ribs. Messing with kids in the Toretto family's neighborhood? That's a death sentence. And not just any death, but a slow and painful one. Everyone knows family is sacred to that canine Anthros family, especially for the Toretto's.
"You don't understand, Dom," I try to argue, my voice coming out weak, almost pleading. "Whoever disobeys the new boss doesn't survive-." I tried to justify myself, but I'm silenced when a hand grabs my throat.
My breath falters as Dominika's fingers tighten around my neck, her sharp claws pressing against my skin. She forces me to look at her, her brown eyes burning with an intensity that makes my stomach churn.
"Who is your boss, Drika?" Her voice is a low growl, brimming with authority. There's no room for lies or half-truths.
I try to look away, but her grip tightens, forcing me to maintain eye contact. The air starts to run out, and black spots dance in my vision.
"Relax Dommy," says Marcus in a gentle tone.
Dominika loosens her grip on my throat, and air rushes back into my lungs. I cough, trying to catch my breath, my eyes tearing up. My vision slowly clears, and that's when I notice Marcus approaching. He's carrying something strange in his hands: a white candle with a blue flame that flickers hypnotically.
"What…?" My voice comes out hoarse, my throat still sore from Dominika's grip. My eyes fix on the candle, confusion mixing with fear. "What the fuck is that?"
The human stops a few steps away, the bluish light reflecting on his face, casting dancing shadows that accentuate his features. He doesn't answer right away, just watches me with those piercing green eyes.
The silence stretches, heightening my anxiety.
Noticing my discomfort, Marcus smiles and begins to explain.
"This candle has… unique properties," Marcus says, his voice almost reverent.
He walks over to Dominika, who's still standing by my side, her imposing presence making me feel even more vulnerable. Quickly, Marcus takes a drop of my blood still present on Dominika's knuckles, the red liquid gleaming in the blue flame's light.
"What are you doing, you freak?" I growl, trying to hide my fear.
Marcus ignores my protest and lets the drop of blood fall onto the flame. The instant the blood touches the fire, the flame crackles, grows, and changes color. Shifting from blue to a deep, almost pulsing red, before turning back to blue.
"Freak," I mutter, my eyes fixed on the flame that now dances almost like it's alive. "Why do you keep doing this diablo shit, you witch man."
Without looking in my direction, still focused on the flame, Marcus replies.
"It's just magic, Drika," he says, turning his eyes to me, staring seriously. "Trust me, you don't want to see me using the real diablo shit, especially not against your flesh and soul."
Marcus steps closer, his footsteps echoing in the empty warehouse. He stops in front of me, the candle still in his hands, the blue flame dancing hypnotically. His green eyes meet mine, serious, almost solemn.
"What's your name?" he asks, his voice low, but firm.
"Are you fucking stupid?" I spit the words, my voice dripping with disdain. "You damn well know my name is Drika, you idiot."
Marcus sighs, tired. He runs his free hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away frustration. His eyes close for a brief moment before locking on mine again, now with renewed intensity.
"I know your name is Drika," he says, his voice patient but firm. "But what's your full name? The name you were given when you were born?"
The question catches me off guard.
'My full name? Why the hell does he want that?' My thoughts scramble, but the urge to rebel flares up.
"My name is 'suck my clit'. HA—!" My laughter is cut short by pain in my chest.
My heart convulses, pain radiating through my chest. It's like an invisible hand is squeezing my heart, crushing it mercilessly. I try to scream, but my voice comes out weak, a stifled gasp that echoes through the abandoned warehouse.
"What… did you… do… to me?" I manage to stammer, each word a struggle against the pain consuming me.
Marcus watches me, his green eyes reflecting the bluish light of the candle. He doesn't answer, just stares with a serious, almost solemn expression. The candle flame dances hypnotically, pulsing in a rhythm that seems synced with my heartbeat.
The pain intensifies, spreading through my body like a wildfire. My blood feels like it's boiling, every vein and artery burning from the inside out. It's unbearable, like I'm being consumed by invisible flames.
"Stop… please…" I beg, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Tears stream down my face, mixing with the sweat pouring from my skin. My body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed to the limit. The pain is so intense my vision begins to darken, black dots dancing before my eyes.
With a heavy head, I speak in a weak voice.
"My name is…" I say, summoning all my strength. "Alexandra Maria Cortez Saramago."
Instantly, the pain stops. I gasp in relief, recovering from the torture, but Marcus's voice reminds me I'm not safe.
"It's been a long time since I've used this candle," the human warns. "I don't know how the punishment might worsen if you keep lying, and I don't know how many times you can lie before your flesh, mind, and soul are consumed."
I swallow hard, the burning sensation still vivid in my memory. I can't go through that again. I won't survive it.
"I'll only tell the truth," my voice comes out hoarse, but firm. I can't lie, not with that demon in the room.
Marcus smiles, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He turns to Dominika, nodding.
"Go on, Dommy."
Dominika hesitates for a moment, her brown eyes reflecting doubt, but she shakes her head, focusing in my direction.
"Which group is trying to take my territory?" Her voice is a low growl, loaded with authority. "Is it the Triad? The Russians? Or one of the local gangs?"
My breath is still fast, the bitter taste of fear lingering in my mouth. The ghost of the throbbing pain in my chest serves as a constant reminder of the power Marcus holds over me.
"No," I reply, my voice barely more than a whisper. "It's none of those organizations."
Dominika narrows her eyes, distrust written all over her face.
"Then who is it?" she insists, her voice a low growl. "We don't have all day, Drika."
I swallow hard, trying to organize my thoughts. The candle still burns in Marcus's hands, the blue flame dancing hypnotically. I can't lie, not with that thing nearby. But the truth... the truth is a nightmare I can't escape from.
"The Order of the Broken Melodies," I answer, looking at the ground.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, black smoke emerges from the shadows around me. The dense vapor contorts, forming figures that laugh like children in a chorus of pure joy. The sound is terrifying, chilling, as if hell itself were laughing at my misery.
"No! I told the truth Marcus!" I scream, desperate, my voice echoing through the abandoned warehouse. "Why are you doing this to me, Marcus? I told the fucking truth!"
My body shakes uncontrollably, fear and confusion mixing in my beeing. The chains binding me to the ground rattle, the cold metal scraping against my skin, heightening my agony.
The laughter of the shadows intensifies, the sound piercing my ears, reverberating through my skull. It's like a thousand needles stabbing into my brain, the pain unbearable, relentless. I try to move away, but I'm trapped, vulnerable, at the mercy of this infernal torture.
"Stop, please!" I beg, my voice barely a whisper. "I told the truth, I swear!"
The icy shadows reach my throat, their cold touch spreading like poison. My breath falters, and an overwhelming sense of weakness takes over me. It's like my life force is being drained, sucked out by these evil presences now surrounding me.
I try to scream, to call for help, but my voice fails. No sound comes from my mouth, only a faint hiss, almost inaudible. My eyes widen in despair, searching for any sign of rescue, but all I see are the shadows, growing denser, more real.
The shadows completely envelop me, plunging me into an icy darkness.
My eyes widen in despair, searching for any sign of rescue, but all I see are the shadows, growing denser, more real. They twist around me, their laughter echoing in my ears, a hellish chorus that seems never-ending. The sensation of extreme weakness overtakes me, as if my life force is being drained, sucked out by these evil presences now surrounding me.
But no one answers. I'm alone, trapped in this cold darkness, at the mercy of these shadows that seem determined to consume me.
It's as if there's nothing left for me but darkness, cold, and death...
But just when I finally accept my fate, a light explodes in front of me, followed by a powerful voice.
"By the power of my soul, light, appear!"
The white light that blooms in front of me is small but powerful and warm like a sun, filling me with the life that had been drained by the shadows.
What was consuming me in the darkness seems furious at being challenged; tendrils of shadow surge toward the light.
"Creatures of shadow now disappear." Declares the voice, tripling the size and intensity of the light.
Shadows around me react as if in pain, but despite halting their advance on the light, they still hold me in their tendrils.
With a bit of renewed hope, I try to fight, to break free. I strain my muscles, trying to break the chains of black mist, but it's useless. Each effort seems to feed the darkness, which begins to consume my strength again with renewed hunger.
"HEEELP" I scream, desperate, my voice echoing through the warehouse.
The shadows laugh, their laughter a hellish chorus that pierces my ears.
"This vow I make, have no despair," says the light, for the first time speaking directly to me. "Your life, Darkness will never snare."
The white light explodes like a supernova, its blinding intensity filling the abandoned warehouse. The warmth it emits is comforting, like a welcoming embrace on a cold night. I feel my skin tingle, every cell in my body vibrating with renewed energy. It's like I'm being reborn, every muscle, every bone, every fiber of my being gaining new life.
The shadows that surrounded me scream, a chorus of agonizing wails that echo through the warehouse. They writhe, trying to escape the light, but it's too late. The light consumes them, burning them as if they were made of paper. The infernal laughter turns into screams of pain, and I feel a twisted satisfaction hearing their anguish.
The darkness that had enveloped me dissipates, leaving only the pure white light in front of me, which begins to dim, revealing a human figure.
My eyes widen, disbelief etched on my face. The white, intense, and pure light begins to fade, revealing the human form of Marcus. He stands a few steps away, his silhouette outlined against the glow now dissipating.
"What the fuck was that?" Dominika asks, confused.
"It was a curse, Dom," he says, his voice low but firm.
Dominika, who had been standing next to me, turns to Marcus, her brown eyes reflecting confusion and disbelief. She crosses her arms, her stance defensive, as if trying to process what just happened.
"Curse?" she repeats, her voice laced with skepticism. "You're telling me those shadows, that darkness, was a curse, like a spell?"
Marcus nods, a slow and deliberate gesture.
"Yes," he replies, his voice firm. "It was a curse meant to punish any betrayal. Apparently, Drika didn't even know it had been placed on her."
Dominika sighs, running a hand over her face. She looks tired, almost overwhelmed.
"A few hours ago, I didn't even know magic was real," she mutters, her voice heavy with frustration. "And now I'm here, dealing with curses and killer shadows."
Marcus approaches her, his expression softening. He places a hand on Dominika's shoulder, a comforting gesture that seems to calm her.
"I know it's a lot to process, Dom," he says, his voice gentle. "But we need to understand what's happening. This shows I'm not the only magic user in this world. There's something bigger at play here."
Dominika nods, her expression determined. She turns to me, her brown eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.
"And you, Drika?" she asks, her voice firm. "What do you know about this Order of the Broken Melodies? What do they want with my territory?"
I swallow hard, trying to organize my thoughts.
My body still trembles, the ghost of pain and fear lingering in every fiber of my being. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Dominika's and Marcus's eyes are fixed on me, waiting for answers I barely understand myself.
"I... I don't know much," my voice comes out weak, but I try to pull myself together. "The Order of the Broken Melodies... it seems more like a secret order than a simple cartel. But I know their goal is to take control of the entire underworld of Santa Francisca."
Dominika narrows her eyes, distrust written all over her face.
"And how do they plan to do that?" she asks, her voice heavy with authority.
I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts.
"I don't know the details," I admit, frustration evident in my voice. "Few people have ever seen the face of the organization's leader. She's only known as 'Maestra.'"
Marcus steps closer, his expression serious.
"And you? Have you ever seen this Maestra?"
I shake my head, the memory of the darkness and the shadows still fresh in my mind.
"No, never," I reply, my voice firm. "Until today I thought it was fake news, that stories of her killing through shadows were lies, but now..."
Dominika lets out a growl of frustration, running her hand through her hair.
"Fuck, Drika! How am I supposed to deal with this shit if I don't even know where this order is or who the hell this Maestra is?"
Her brown eyes shine with irritation, and she starts pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
"This is like fighting a ghost, fuck!"
Marcus watches Dominika, his expression serious. He doesn't say anything, just lets her vent. My eyes follow her movements, the tension in the air almost palpable.
"I... I can help with that," my voice comes out low, almost a whisper, but it's enough to catch both of their attention. "She put my life at risk without bothering to warn me, I want revenge."
Dominika stops walking, her eyes turning to me, full of surprise and hope.
"What do you mean, Drika? You know where this order is?"
I shake my head, trying to organize my thoughts. The memory of the shadows and darkness is still fresh in my mind, but Marcus's promise to protect me gives me renewed courage.
"No, I don't know where it is," I admit, my voice firm. "But I know a way to get her attention."
Marcus steps closer, his expression serious but curious.
"And how do you plan to do that, Drika?"
I take a deep breath, knowing what I'm about to say will change everything.
My eyes turn to Dominika, determination growing inside me.
"The Maestra... she has a peculiar taste for dramatic events and high-stakes bets," my voice is firm, each word loaded with conviction. "She can't resist a good dose of adrenaline and danger."
Dominika narrows her eyes, curiosity shining in her gaze.
"And what does that have to do with finding her?"
A slight smile forms on my lips, my confidence growing.
"Tonight, in two hours, the Bayview-Hunters race is going down," I explain, my voice full of anticipation. "It's the kind of thing the Maestra wouldn't miss for anything."
Marcus steps closer, his expression serious but attentive.
"And you think she'll be there?"
I nod, certainty in every movement.
"I'm sure that bitch will be there. She always shows up at these events, even if it's discreetly. It's the perfect opportunity to find her."
Dominika crosses her arms, her posture defensive, but her eyes gleaming with interest.
"Good thing my car's ready to race," says the Anthro, turning to Marcus. "You stay here watching the hyena while I handle this."
I look at Marcus, his green eyes glowing with a mix of determination and concern. He steps forward, his voice firm.
"Hold on, Dommy, I can help too."
Dominika turns to him, her brown eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and irritation. She crosses her arms, defensive.
"No, Marcus," her voice is a low growl, filled with authority. "I don't care if you're a wizard like Harriet Potter. These races are way too dangerous for men. I know that, I already lost too much behind the wheel."
Marcus blinks, confused. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again, as if trying to process what Dominika just said.
His eyes turn to me, his expression serious. He nods slowly, accepting Dominika's decision.
"Alright, Dom," he says, his voice low. "I get it."
Dominika lets out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit. She turns to me, her expression determined.
Dominika steps closer to Marcus, her strong arms wrapping him in a tight hug.
"Thanks for understanding, Marcus," her voice is a low growl, heavy with gratitude. "I know you want to help, but this is for the best."
Marcus returns the hug, his green eyes glowing with a mix of understanding and concern.
"I get you, Dom," he says, his voice firm.
Dominika nods, a subtle smile forming on her lips. She turns to me, her expression serious.
"And you, Drika," her voice is a warning, heavy with authority. "Behave. Don't make me come back here and put you in your place."
I nod, the tension in the air almost tangible. I watch as Dominika walks away, her firm steps echoing through the abandoned warehouse. The door closes behind her, leaving Marcus and me alone.
My eyes turn to Marcus, curiosity and anticipation growing inside me. He steps closer, his expression serious but determined. With a quick movement, he crouches and releases the chains that hold me to the ground.
I blink, surprised, trying to process what just happened. Marcus stands up, a predatory smile forming on his lips.
"Where's the oldest racecourse in Santa Francisca?" His voice is a whisper, filled with intensity.
"What?"
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E ai gurizada.
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