Lullaby For The Sadist {ManxMan} {Radish Fiction)

Chapter Seven

{Chapter Seven}

The first thing I see, once my eyes adjust to the low lighting, is a small group lighting candles over points in a star, two circles are drawn around the five pointed star and the men are just outside of the two circles. Next I notice some people lounging on a couch, smoking, drinking; injecting and snorting. But as soon as I walk in, all eyes are on me.

The odd one out.

"Come with me," I hear a deep voice from behind me and I feel the tip of a rifle between my shoulder blades. I tense at this and shove my irritation down, instead I obey the order and walk where the man leads me.

We move through the warehouse to a door at the back. The man comes around, finally dropping his rifle to his side so he can open the door. Of course, as soon as the door is open, the gun is back on me, just in case I make a wrong move.

"He's here," the man announces and pushes me through the doorway. Inside the dark room is a single man on a couch, his hand over his eyes. His long coat is falling over the couch and touching the floor, while his inverted cross necklace is falling down slightly to his arm. He uncovers his eyes and glances over, only to send a menacing glare to the man behind me, whom I still haven't gotten a good look at.

"Get out of here," his rough voice, no doubt due to too much smoking and lord knows what else, orders. I feel the man drop his weapon once more followed by the sound of the door closing as he leaves. Once he leaves the man closes his eyes once more.

"Isaias," he greets. I resist the urge to scoff and instead bite my lip.

"It's Isaiah, Aleister " I mutter, slightly irritated that he even knows my given name. He waves me off, but still doesn't move from his current position sprawled on the couch.

"Do you have my money?" It isn't so much a question as it is a threat, because if I didn't, he would have me dead before I could even try to say no.

"Of course, soaked in the blood of children and all just how you like it," I let the sarcastic remark slip out before I can stop it.

"Good. This next batch will last a bit longer, we laced it with more talcum powder than usual, but it still does have the usual kick. Raise the price a bit, tell them it's better than the last. The scum will believe anything," he explains calmly. I nod and pull out his cut of the money I made from the sales of the last batch of coke I sold.

"Awesome, here." I say as I move over and drop the money on his chest. Aleister finally opens his eyes again, revealing the hazy gray, clouded with a knowledge I don't even think I want a piece of. He grabs the money and tosses it aside, as if it's nothing, and honestly it probably is, and reaches under the couch to pull out two bricks of coke.

"Want to try a line or two? Make sure you're selling quality product?" He questions once I take them from him. I shake my head in silent refusal and his lips twitch. "Andre always tried it," he points out.

"I'm not Andre," I return with a bit of a bite to my words. As much as I love my friend, it always gets on my nerves when people compare me to him.

"Oh, kitty has claws. We all know you're not Andre, but you're similar in more ways than you let on," he sighs wistfully. I stare at him curiously, wondering how much he knows. But then I realize how stupid it is of me to even wonder; this man probably knows more about me than anyone in my family, including Andre.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand. His eyes flicker and he reaches a hand, full of rings, up to grope my crotch.

"I think you know what I mean," he replies. I grit my teeth and take a step back to get away from his touch.