The hot waters hit Maileena's bare body and washed away the sweat and blood that covered her. Like many other showers she had had before, she felt as if she was washing away more than just the physical filth. After what happened in the warehouse she felt so violated that the first thing she did upon entering Demilan's apartment was ask where the shower was. She didn’t mind if she came off as a bit rude. After all, she’d just met the guy. Then again, she constantly reminded herself how badly she needed his help. He's very good at killing.
He might be my only chance of getting Vera back.
After stepping out of the shower she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself, while her slender body was dripping all over the floor. She noticed that her cheek was slightly swollen. In addition, she spotted a few bruises on her body in different locations and severities. Some were on her legs or chest, some were barely visible and some were dark and apparent. She refrained from trying to sort which ones were courtesy of her latest abusers from the warehouse and which ones came before them.
She walked into the living room wrapped in a white towel, seeing Demilan sitting on the couch. His long, black wavy hair reached his shoulders, looking moist with sweat. Black stubble adorned his face and a harsh expression defined it. He wore a black leather jacket and dirty blue jeans. His duffel bag rested on the floor beside his feet, while his assault rifle sat on his lap.
Maileena admired the killing machine's beauty, painted with a green-grey camouflage.
"How do you feel?" he asked her.
"Still like shit, but… better, I guess," she replied. An awkward silence followed as Demilan tried his best not to look at her damp body, covered only by a rather thin piece of fabric.
It feels weird… for once that a man would actually look away from the figure of my body, rather than stripping me with his eyes while drooling all over the floor with lecherous thoughts rushing through his mind. It feels out of place… I guess I'm used to that kind of obnoxious behavior.
In an effort to avoid memories that might not make her feel particularly good, Maileena turned to raise another question that had popped into her mind earlier.
"Tell me, why didn't you use any Elastics back there? I mean, you might have left behind all kinds of evidence like spit, hair, finger prints. You can get really fucked up if the cops find something like that there."
"I don’t care. Besides, I don’t have any Elastics."
"Than… why the fuck would you mess with Men of Midas?
Don’t you know how dangerous Reus Mallistrom can be?"
"Don’t you take me for a child, little girl. I knew Reus Mallistrom long before you did, and I'm not scared of him."
"And what about the cops?"
"Even if the cops find out I'm the one who killed those men, you can bet either Mallistrom or one of his lieutenants will put a few bucks in the right hand to make sure they back off to let them have their revenge, so the cops aren’t much to worry about."
"Well, either way, they can still track down where you live and come here."
"Only that this isn’t my apartment. This is a friend's."
Maileena felt a bit struck by Demilan’s astounding confidence and knowledge of how everything worked with regards to crime organizations. It didn't take too long for her to do the math.
"Who are you?" she asked him, sounding as if she had just met the man. Demilan looked down at the ground before staring straight into Maileena’s eyes with a cold, harsh look. He knew she wasn't expecting to hear his name or anything similar. She wanted to know who he was in terms of affiliations.
"Do the math yourself," he answered, as if he was ashamed to saying it himself.
"Well, you can rule out Men of Midas. And if you were a Feral you’d have raped or tortured me long ago. Other than that you could be Lady Dread, Code Sanguinary or even a Justicar for all I can tell." A slight curve formed on Demilan’s lips. He raised his assault rifle and held it above his head with one hand.
"This should narrow your list down."
Maileena immediately knew what he meant. Demilan’s assault rifle was military grade, the kind you only see with one specific group in Alataria. A group known for their ties with the military, and for their unique perk of having high grade weapons. Code Sanguinary. "I see," she said. "So this is Blackburn’s doing." Demilan shook his head.
"It’s not. I'm a former soldier of Blackburn. I've been out of Code Sanguinary for about a year now."
"How come?"
"It’s… a long story." His eyes slid back to stare at the floor.
Out of respect for the ex-soldier, Maileena backed off the subject and dug no further. Instead, she asked him to look away as she was getting dressed. Without hesitation, Demilan did as asked, and wouldn't move his head by an inch until she gave him the okay to do so. Upon his turning back, she couldn’t hold herself back from chuckling.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing, it's just… I'm not used to men like you. Men who aren’t disrespectful or at least drooling at the thought of me getting naked."
"Don’t exaggerate. There are worse places in this country as far as population goes. This isn’t the Brontspil or Flintwood districts."
"No, but this is Ashcote, where you have strip clubs like the Godly Succubi."
"And what would you know about the Godly Succubi?"
"More than I wish I did."
"What do you…? Wait, don’t tell me…" he choked on his words. Maileena remained quiet in turn, yet her eyes reflected that this was true, that she truly had the misfortune of working at the god-forsaken club. "You said you were 15," he said.
"And I didn’t lie." A moment later it hit him. He looked at her with a shocked expression upon his face, and wide open eyes. "The VIP services," he said in a weak voice, almost whispering. Maileena in turn gave him a sharp, cold look, confirming that horrible detail about her life with her eyes alone. "I heard about it only as rumors back when I was still in Code Sanguinary."
"Well, the rumors were true. It's real."
"But… why? Why would you work there?" he asked, looking almost afraid to hear the answer.
"When I was 5 years old, my parents were killed by a bunch of Ferals, leaving me and my sister, Vera, to live with our grandmother. But after she died last year, Vera and I were left with no other relatives to take care of us, which left us in the hands of Social Services. *They placed us in the custody of a drunken asshole. He was very abusive, so I took Vera and we both ran away. He didn’t report it for some reason, I guess he preferred not having to feed or take care of us while he was still cashing in on whatever allowance he was getting from Social Services. My grandmother's apartment remained vacant so we stayed there. We tried to survive on our own. I was trying to bring in some cash by taking 2 jobs, but it wasn't enough. I knew Mallistrom’s Men of Midas was a great source of cash, so I went to the Godly Succubi and asked for a job."
Demilan looked appalled. His ran his hand back and forth through his long hair. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she told him the harrowing story. "I can already tell how that worked out," he said.
"They slapped me and told me to get lost." Her eyes now slid to the floor, too embarrassed to look at him. "There was this guy… he was in charge of the girls there… I had to convince him to hire me."
"Oh, god, please spare me," he raised his hand. "I don’t want to hear it."
"Alright. Anyway he hired me eventually."
"I can't believe they're actually running those services…
calling it VIP as if it was some fucking luxury." He remained calm, yet the rage inside him was clear to see.
"Well, those who came to use us wouldn’t refuse calling it that."
"Goddammit," he found the bitter truth hard to swallow.
"What kind of sick freaks use little girls for their pleasure?"
"The powerful ones. Politicians, high-ranking business men, or basically any good friend of Reus Mallistrom."
"Fuck," he buried his face in his hands.
"Do you still work there?"
"No. A couple of days ago one of the men that I was to serve was being violent. Too violent. I couldn’t take it anymore so I tried to leave. He fought me back and I ended up punching him in the face in order to escape. Obviously, Mallistrom’s men didn’t appreciate that, but before I could do anything, they broke into my house and kidnapped Vera and me. They gave me to those men you saw in that warehouse.
They'd been having their way with me until you showed up."
"Do you know where your sister is?"
"No. That’s why I need your help. I have to find her."
"How old is she?"
"12."
"Oh, fuck," he ran his hand through his stubble. "Don't worry, we'll get her."
"Thank you, Demilan." He lay back without talking further.
She decided to give him a few seconds to wrap his mind around all that he had just heard. She saw the revolver lying on the table, the same one she took from the one named Maythem. She took it in her hand and rubbed her finger against the slick steel of the long barrel. She wrapped her right hand around the handle and wheeled its barrel with her left. It felt slightly heavy, yet she could picture herself getting used to its weight.
"That's quite a weapon. Do you know how to use it?"
Demilan asked her.
"Everything can be learned," she pointed the gun at the wall, squeezing her eye at the sights as if there was an actual target standing right in front of her. She lowered the gun, staring at the mechanical marvel instead. Such a beautiful tool of death. She loved the way it looked.
"You like it, don’t you?" Demilan noticed the slight curve of her mouth.
"I do, very much."
"Maybe you should name it."
"It’s not a pet."
"Many people name their guns. I've known some guys at Code Sanguinary who did. Sunyula Trife named her double-blade sword Scarlet Thorn."
"I see… Well, I don’t have a name for it."
"You'll get one, eventually." He got up from the couch. "I need to go. I have to find Odis. Stay here, Maileena. I’ll be back in about—"
"Fuck, no. I'm going with you."
Demilan sighed and grabbed her shoulder. "I don’t need to tell you that this isn’t a game. You saw me killing those people in that warehouse."
"And you saw me beat the shit out of one of them. I'm not innocent, trust me. I may look young, but I've seen and done more than anyone should at my age." Maileena’s eyes were burning with determination. This isn’t about repaying Demilan for saving me. This isn’t about trying to help him or something. This is about seeing these things to make myself have a better understanding of them.
This might make me stronger. I need to be stronger to save Vera.