Ronner

Ronner woke up early that day and noticed Magenta had already left his bed. He stretched his arms and opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to bathe his room. His balcony provided a panoramic view of the city hills and their blueish tones, covered by dense urbanization.

Every morning, Ronner enjoyed sitting by the window, drinking his finest wine, and tasting the flavor of success. But there was something to do first. Magenta rarely woke up earlier than him, so he headed to her office to confirm his suspicions.

The servants bowed as he walked past them, smiling and winking at the girls. Their submissive looks never got old; he had earned them. Yet something was missing in his palace.

Ronner arrived at Magenta’s office and found The Lady talking on her phone. She paced around the room, scowling and kicking things out of her way. He shook his head, knowing the reason behind her behavior.

Magenta finally hung up by smashing her mobile on the floor, the sixth one in one week. “That stupid pig!” she roared. “How dare he speak to me like that?”

“I guess this is a bad moment to talk,” Ronner said, smirking.

“He doesn’t wanna wait anymore and is threatening me! I should put a bullet in his fucking brain!” Magenta seized a crystal cup and smashed it against a wall. Ronner watched how sparkly glass debris fell to his feet, amusement on his face.

“You need to relax, baby.”

“Shut up, idiot!” she yelled, her pale face red like a tomato.

Ronner laughed and grabbed a bottle of Red Fire from a Blackwood shelf. “He can say whatever he wants, but we’re the ones who own the Nephilim.”

“This is Marcus’ fault.” Magenta scoffed, allowing Ronner to fill her cup with the exotic beverage.

Ronner rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Magenta strutted toward her balcony with her eyes fixed on the city. “He promised me those brutes from Karx would pay more than him.”

“Bullshit. No army from Karx has that much money.”

“We should at least try . . . “ Magenta sipped her drink as she glanced at Ronner.

“Why bother? The stupid pig is our best option. He has the money and contacts we need.” Ronner walked up to Magenta. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered, “You don’t believe in Karx. You’re only doing this because of that sullen butler of yours.”

“He’s not a butler, he is a—”

“Yes, I know.” Ronner cut her off, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You keep him around because you still hold some affection for him. Am I wrong?” His voice was calm, but with an edge to it.

She remained silent, focused on the Four Towers, drawing tangled shadows over the roads. “I promised to give him a chance, and I will. If they don’t convince me, nothing will change.” Magenta leaned her head back and bit his cheek. “But you’re right. I have a soft spot for him. Does that bother you?”

Ronner stifled a chuckle as he tightened his grasp around her. “I already told you can sleep with him. I don’t care.”

Magenta pushed Ronner away and leaned on the black marble railing. “He’s offered himself to finish your dirty job. You should be more grateful.”

“I am! This way, I got more time with you.” Ronner stood next to her and sniffed her hair. “So, when is he doing it?”

“Soon . . . “

“See? He still loves you,” Ronner said, running his fingers through her garnet hair. “No more than I do, of course.” He sniggered.

Magenta seized his fingers. “Ah, Ron . . . Don’t believe I’ve forgotten what you did.”

“You mean the little incident with your maid?”

“Little? Remnya saw it, big stupid!” Magenta glared at him.

“Don’t worry, she was happy with my explanation.” Ronner beamed, his teeth shining under the sun. “Rem is such a sweetie, honestly. It’ll be hard for me to let her go.”

“Next time, hide your mess from her.”

“My bad, I got carried away.” Ronner caressed her hips and whispered in her ear, “Can’t help it, okay? She keeps tempting me.”

“It doesn’t matter, she’s disposable.”

“Is she?” Ronner raised one eyebrow. “Like those pathetic puppets from the orphanage?”

She nodded. “They couldn’t even take proper care of the boy. Last night, they had another incident with one of their caregivers. Why are commoners so useless?”

“Don’t worry. I will take care of that bald pedophile personally.”

“You better do, and I don’t care what you do with the rest of them, either.”

“I know. Everyone is disposable here . . . Everyone but you . . . “ Magenta moaned as Ronner yanked her body against his. “Even myself.” He smirked and slid his hands down her inner thighs.

“You think so? I’ve always thought hybrid Nephilims like you had some appeal,” Magenta whispered and turned to kiss him. Ronner was rough, but she didn’t seem to mind.

If you only knew, dear Magenta . . .

They spent the rest of the morning in the office.

*°*°*

Marcus

Dusk fell over the orphanage as the old orange lamps lit up the empty street, while a timid breeze dragged chunks of clouds through the sky, preluding what would be the coldest night in months.

Marcus stood by his car, smoking as he stared vacantly at the building in the distance, where Orena and Ellyn awaited his arrival.

He took the first step forward and crossed the iron gates.

Without kids, the front yard looked deserted, and only an orange lamp post illuminated his face and drew awkward shadows across the dry soil.

Marcus stood by the entrance door, puffing his cigarette, and tried to ring the rusted doorbell, but before his finger could touch the metal, the door opened, and Orena rushed outside with a wide smile.

“Mr. Marcus, welcome!” the old woman greeted him. She had dressed in a new long dress, styled her ragged gray hair, and applied cheap make-up to cover her wrinkles.

He looked at her with vacant eyes and blew a smoke cloud into the sky. “I heard the boy is doing well,” Marcus said softly.

“He is!” Orena nodded eagerly. “We kept him out of trouble, as promised.”

“Good.” He smothered his cigarette in his palm and stared deep into the empty front yard. “Do you ever miss her?”

“Who?” Orena gave him a confused look and then reacted to his question. “Oh! Remnya? I do, I do!” She laughed.

“How is she doing?” Ellyn asked, sneaking up from behind the doorway.

“Shut up, woman!” Orena yelled.

“She seems happy,” Marcus replied.

Ellyn gave him a half-smile while Orena glared at her.

“What brings you here, Mr. Marcus?” the old woman asked, rubbing her hands together. They both knew the meaning of his visit very well.

“I need you to accompany me. Lady Magenta has a present for you two.” Marcus began walking toward his car, motioning for them to follow him. Orena and Ellyn exchanged looks and did as he asked.

Marcus opened the backdoor and invited them to get in. Without questions, Orena went first, eager to ride in such a luxurious vehicle, but Ellyn seemed hesitant and glanced at Marcus several times. The old woman shouted at her to hurry, so she had no choice but to obey.

Blueish headlights swept the asphalt as they left the orphanage.

They drove through the town for a while. The cold streets felt desolated, except for the homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk. Marcus had kept his window open all the time, turning the car into a freezer with wheels. Ellyn sat on her hands to warm them up and looked around nervously. Though Orena didn’t seem to mind, as revealed by the smirk on her face.

“Can I ask what is it, Mr. Marcus? Our presents?” Orena asked, leaning closer to the driver’s seat.

“Soon,” Marcus said, offering a lit cigarette to the old woman. Her eyes shone; his cigarettes were of the best quality.

Finally, the car stopped in front of an old building in a poor neighborhood near the border with Crysalton; it was an ancient structure and looked abandoned with its decaying walls and broken windows.

A rusted lamp post illuminated the corner of the street, but the rest of the neighborhood was total darkness and silence, except for the barking of stray dogs in the distance and the sound of the chilly wind freezing their bones.

Marcus opened the back door and asked the ladies to follow him. Orena did it without hesitation, but Ellyn stood still next to the car, looking up at the building looming over her.

“Anything wrong?” Marcus asked, scanning Ellyn’s sweaty face.

Silence.

“What are you trying to do?” Ellyn mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him, and took one step backward.

Marcus tilted his head, unamused.

“I swear to God!” Orena snapped and seized her arm, trying to yank her toward the building.

“Don’t be stupid!” Ellyn shook her hand off her and pointed at Marcus. “That man is up to something!”

“Shut up!” Orena slapped Ellyn twice. Her heavy hands caused the scrawny woman to stagger and fall on the cracked sidewalk. “You idiot, you’re ruining everything!”

Marcus gave Ellyn a pitiful glance, knowing the children in the orphanage took those hits daily.

“Please forgive her stupidity, Mr. Marcus,” the old woman said. “She’s still a pathetic kid!” Orena glared at Ellyn, full of contempt.

“The nurse doesn’t have to come if she doesn’t want to,” he said, paying scarce attention to the scene. “Let’s go.”

Ellyn sat up and touched her bleeding lips. She glared at Orena, who just flipped her off and entered the building.

As the woman went ahead, Marcus stood by the door, waiting for his remaining guest.

Ellyn wiped the blood off her mouth and stood up, but as soon as she tried to walk away, a massive, dark figure bumped into her.

Her face turned pale when Gorth loomed over her, with his pitch-black eyes penetrating her soul. Ellyn leaped back and tried to run away, but he seized her arm.

“What are you doing?” Ellyn yelled, pulling her arm away from him in a futile attempt to break free.

He wrapped his massive arms around her thin body and picked her up as if she was a mere rag doll.

“Let me go!” she screamed, twisting her body. “Please, someone! Help!”

The wind blew her words away as Gorth carried her inside before the uninterested gaze of Marcus.

An empty room with a crumbled roof and rotten walls waited for them. Marcus and Gorth knew words were needless; they had to finish the job that started with Remnya’s adoption.

Ellyn froze when she witnessed Orena kneeling in front of Marcus. “Why, Mr. Marcus? WHY? I did everything I was told!” The old woman trembled and cried like a little kid. She held her hands together and begged, “Please, Mr. Marcus! Forgive me!”

“Orders from Lady Magenta,” Marcus replied coldly as he stared at Orena with an unreadable expression.

“No! The boss wouldn’t do this! I worked so hard for her, please!” Orena screamed, bending to the floor. It was a pathetic sight; the mighty director Orena begged like any of those orphans she punished with vicious ease.

Gorth threw Ellyn into a corner like a bag of flesh. She leaned against the wall and curled up her body. She seemed to want to cry, but tears didn’t dare to fall. She just trembled and sweated under the heavy gaze of Gorth.

“What are you gonna do with us?” Ellyn stammered as if terrified of the answer.

“I hate hurting women,” Marcus started, handing a pair of black gloves to Gorth. “So, be glad it’s us and not Ronner doing this.” He pointed at Orena, who sobbed on the floor. “Knowing him, he’d do a bloody mess with you.” Then he stared at Ellyn. “And with you, Ronner would . . . “ Marcus tightened his lips and then glanced at Gorth. “Don’t you agree?”

“He gives me the creeps,” Gorth said, stretching the gloves on his massive fingers.

Orena crawled over Marcus’ feet and kissed them. “Please! I beg you, Mr. Marcus, forgive me! I’ve always been loyal to the boss! I never meant to hurt Remnya! I’m so sorry!” She held his ankles and shrieked. Her make-up had stained her cheeks with black trails.

“Please, Marcus . . . “ Ellyn mumbled as a tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t have to do this.”

Nothing they said mattered anymore, he knew.

“You’re wrong, old woman. We’re not doing this because you hurt our Nephilim girl or because you almost got our Anglish boy killed.” Marcus gestured at Gorth, and the big man walked toward Orena, drawing a long gold knife from his belt. “We’re just tying loose ends. Did you really think Lady Magenta would allow you to live after all the things you know about her?”

“No . . . NO!” Orena squealed and dragged herself away from Marcus, but Gorth grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head upward, exposing her short neck.

In a quick sweep, he buried the knife in her flesh and sliced it like butter.

A rainfall of blood covered Orena’s chest and dress as she dropped to the floor like a flesh doll. She tried to mumble something, but instead of words, a spurt of blood erupted from her mouth and nose.

Trembling, Ellyn locked her dilated eyes on Orena’s convulsing body, lying on a growing pond of darkened red.

The old woman twitched and began to turn purple.

Her right hand trembled for the last time when life abandoned her body.

Marcus crouched next to Ellyn with his silver knife in his hand. “Now, listen to me.” He placed the edge on her cheekbone, and a thin trail of blood trailed down her cheek. “You have a great mother and a nice boyfriend, don’t you?”

The pain seemed to bring her back to her senses. Her eyes met his, and she bobbed her head.

“We don’t want them to suffer the same fate as her, right?” He pointed the knife at Orena’s corpse. “You will forget about this and work diligently for your boss. You will do as she says, and everything will be okay.”

“Don’t hurt them . . . “ Ellyn whispered as her irritated eyes filled with tears. “They know nothing about this. They’d hate me.”

“They will know nothing. You have my word. And it better stay that way.” Marcus stood up and gestured at Gorth to get rid of the corpse. “Now, let’s go back home . . . Director Ellyn.”

*°*°*