tw - gore

Thinking that I had anything to do with Moretti getting hurt by Hank made my stomach churn. I felt all the food we had just eaten rise to the back of my throat.

It didn't help that Hank was near me too. His face made me sick.

I looked to Hank and whispered so that the other dinner guests couldn't hear, "Can I be excused?" I had to still play nice, that's the only way I was gonna get anywhere.

Hank raised a brow. "Please," I added on. This seemed to satisfy him as he waived me off with his hand then turned back to the conversation at the table.

Before I could leave, I heard a dinner guest laugh, "Why stop at just cutting off the Italian scum's hand? Why not send his Mommy his tongue?" They all laughed heartily.

I looked back to see who said that. A fat white male. Pin striped undershirt. Navy suit. Fake diamond ring on right hand.

Another man turned to the fat man, "You're so bad, Michaelson!" He laughed.

So Michaelson was his name.

Michaelson laughed at the other man, "Davis, weren't you the one who wanted to start feet first?"

I'll remember that.

__

I managed to drag myself to the bathroom before emptying the entire contents of my stomach into the toilet. I flushed the toilet and pulled myself up to the sink.

The bruises had been hidden well by all the makeup. My hair was done, only a single stray piece falling over my forehead. I had jewels dangling from my ears and wrapped around my neck.

Here I was eating all this fancy food, all cleaned up, meanwhile God knows how Moretti is.

I wanted to cry. Almost.

I had to go back before Hank noticed I had been gone too long. I'm surprised he even let me leave his side without armed bodyguards following me. Seems like the innocent act is working. He's letting his guard down. Stupid.

I waltzed back into the dining room, holding my head high. I could feel the men's eyes on my figure which was on full display due to Hank's perverted choice of dress. I wanted to slit their throats. It had been too long since I killed.

But I managed to resist the urge. For now.

So I sat at the table, smiling when looked at and laughing at their dry jokes for hours.

__

"I think it's time we parted, Gentlemen. I will keep you updated on the money situation. I think the Pesci family will be paying up for Catalina at any time. If not, I'll have to pay her a visit down in the basement," he laughed, followed by the laughter of all the other men.

"Please, Gentlemen, enjoy your night here. Your rooms are on the first floor."

They left one by one.

Hank grasped my arm tightly, I could tell he was a bit tipsy. "Time for bed, Little Bitch."

I nodded and he walked me down the up the stairs and down the long hallway. We ran into the two maids and Hank pushed me roughly towards them. "Here, take her to her room. I'm tired."

The maids nodded silently and lead me to my room as Hank left back down the hall into his room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I leaned towards the maid on my right. She was a short, tiny woman, somehow even shorter than me.

"I have been feeling sick all night, can you excuse me to the bathroom?"

I don't think they were aware of the situation or who I really was, so they let me go. I feigned illness as I clutched my stomach and stumbled away from them to the "bathroom."

Once they were gone, I quickly went down the stairs to the second floor. I didn't see any guards positioned on this side of the house. I went back into the now-empty dining room and glanced at the table. A knife sat at one of the seats, a man's personal knife. It looked like a family heirloom. The blade was engraved. Davis. One of the men who joked about taking apart Moretti. I stashed the pocket knife in my bust.

I opened the window in the dining room, revealing the yard. The dark trees and bushes would hide me well. I slipped out of the window and my feet touched the grass.

If I could just get out of here and let Santiago and the rest know where we were...

I went to run to the edge of the property only to stop. The entire house was enclosed by a 10-foot wall. Instead of keeping anything out, it kept us all in.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I whispered to myself. I couldn't scale that without any help. There didn't seem to be anything around that I could use as a boost. Hank must've Psycho-proofed this whole place.

I could hear the deep grumbles of the guards coming closer, checking the perimeter.

So I made my way back into the window. Closing it quietly, I went back upstairs.

"Well, that was a waste," I sighed. Then I remembered the knife I now had.

I know of a way to satisfy the itch inside of me. The bloodlust that I so desperately craved to satisfy.

I looked up to the third floor and smiled.

__

The doors of the bedrooms on the third floor conveniently had the names written on the doors.

Davis. No. Miller. No. Smith. No. Jones. No. Michaelson. There you are. I smiled to myself.

I listened in on the door, only hearing heavy, disgusting snores.

I took the chance to open the door, but the lock stopped me. These locks weren't as serious as the one Hank placed on my door. They could be easily picked. I slid a pin from my updo and wiggled it around expertly inside the keyhole.

The door opened soon after, revealing the pathetic man.

I smiled as I opened the pocket knife, not knowing where I wanted to start first.

I slid the cool blade down my cheek, reveling in the sensation it brought. Oh, how I missed this.

I wonder how scared he'd be when he wakes up in his dark room, just my smiling figure standing over his useless form. I giggled thinking about it. His large body stirred in the bed, the snores stopping for a moment before proceeding again.

I decided I wanted him awake for this one.

I slid my fingertips over his arm, gently brushing him awake.

His eyes opened, "W-What are you doing in here?" He asked loudly.

"I came to play," I said sweetly, licking the knife slowly. His eyes widened and he got louder upon seeing the gleam of the silver, "W-Wha-"

"Shh," I whispered as I put a finger to my lips.

But he didn't listen, he say up more in the bed. Frantically speaking, "Y-You can't be in here. I-" He was going to attract attention this way.

"I thought I told you to shut up," I said, seriously now. Without hesitation, I put the blade in his open mouth, using my hand to open his jaw. I slid the blade over his tongue, severing it. He tried to speak, but just a gargle of blood came out, making him quiet.

I laughed at him as he began to freak out.

He tried to get up to retaliate, but before he could I shoved the blade into his chest, right under his ribs. That stopped him in his tracks.

He fell back down on the bed, his tongue beside him. Using the hankerchief from his suit, I picked it off the bed and wrapped it up.

I left the room, closing the door but not locking it back.

I went down the the Davis room, leaving the tongue and knife on the nightstand.

___

Going back to my room, I locked the door of my bedroom before closing myself inside.

If anyone asks, I've been a good girl all night.

____