Lunarey sat on a chair with her hands tied behind her back and her feet tied to the legs of the chair. She was in the middle of a room on the upper floor of an old-looking pub called the Hairy Knuckle. It was about 15 minutes of walking away from Kelia's school. 15 minutes where Lunarey felt the barrel of a gun pressed against her back as she walked wherever the gun holder pointed her. 15 minutes where panic washed over her body. 15 minutes where she regretted ever leaving Kelia's room.
From the outside, the pub looked as sleazy and old as it was on the inside. An old, rusty sign that read "The Hairy Knuckle" stood proud above the worn, wooden door, which was riddled with scratch marks and dents. A couple of men were talking amongst themselves outside the pub. They acknowledged the mysterious man with a head nod as he walked inside with Lunarey. She noticed how those men's gaze lingered on her, as they bit their lips in passion, probably fantasizing about getting her into their bed and having their way with her.
An old bartender and a few rough-looking men were the only ones downstairs when they entered the pub. The men inside noticed the gun that was being held against Lunarey's back, yet they didn’t seem alarmed or bothered. "What you got there, buddy?" the old bartender asked the mysterious man.
"I'll come down to explain in a minute," he said back. After he led Lunarey to a room upstairs, he tied her to that chair and went down to explain the situation to them, all without saying as much as a word to her.
The room she was in served as a storage room for the owner of the pub. Plastic shelves stood against the wall, packed with cardboard boxes, most of them labeled with alcoholic beverage brands and a couple branded as cleaning supplies.
Lunarey was terrified. She didn’t know what that man was about to do to her. After learning so much about the atrocities that happen in Alataria and in Brontspil in particular, she feared what was to come. She feared that he might have been a member of Lady Dread, the mob gang who's known for their brutal acts of torture and mutilation, or one of the Ferals, who fulfil their horrifying desires on their victims, whether they're sexual or masochistic. Not being able to get a clear view of the man so far, she couldn’t tell anything about him, and she hadn’t seen any Elastics on him or on any of the other men in the pub. Kelia was right. I shouldn’t have gone outside the way I did.
She warned me. She told me to stay indoors and I didn’t listen. I'm so stupid. I just acted on impulse without thinking too much and now… now it might be too late.
She heard a creaking sound coming from the open door in front of her, suggesting that someone was coming up the stairs.
Lunarey's heartbeat went faster with each creak that she heard.
A shadow appeared on the wall outside the door. Sweat started gathering on her face. The man then appeared at the door, the one who had forced her there. She could now see him clearly.
His long hair flowed down from the black beanie hat all the way to his elbows. His thick black beard covered his face, and his big brown eyes stared at Lunarey, making her feel as if she was a lamb and he was a wolf, preying on his target. The bearded man was very wide and muscular. He wore torn-up blue jeans and a black shirt with a wide collar, showing a small fuzz of his heavy chest hair.
"I hope you're comfy," said the man in his husky voice. He approached her with heavy footsteps. Lunarey stared back at him, speechless from fright. "I know you can talk, little princess, I heard you give that heart-warming speech back there at that school." Lunarey remained silent. The man drew closer and closer to her, until eventually their faces were a few inches apart. "What's wrong? Cat swallowed your fucking tongue?" he gave her powerful slap with the back of his hand, sending both her and the chair to the floor. Lunarey writhed in pain, holding back tears. The man sighed and pulled her and the chair back up. "You better start sounding some words, otherwise I'm going to lose my patience again" he warned her.
"W-Who are you?" Lunarey stuttered.
"Name's Triggen. I already know yours, so you can skip that part."
"Y-You know my name? Y-You mean you know who I was?"
"Who you WERE? What the hell are you talking about?"
"P-Please, tell me who I am!" Another slap with the back of his hand hit Lunarey's face, this time she managed to keep her balance on the chair and not tumble to the floor. "Do I look like someone you're going to want to fuck with? Stop being funny and—"
"I lost my memory," she said in a weak voice.
"Come again?" he raised one eyebrow. "Say that again."
"I lost my goddamn memory." A hint of agitation showed through in Lunarey's voice. Triggen started chuckling. He turned and walked around the room until his chuckle turned into a burst of laughter. He laughed on and on, as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. His continuous display of merriment reminded Lunarey of the four girls who had laughed as much at Rosabell when they picked on her. Once he stopped laughing he looked back at Lunarey and saw the dead-serious expression upon her face. "Oh, my god, you've got to be shitting me," he said. "You're lying. It can't be—"
"I'm telling you the truth. I woke up in some alley with no recollection of who I am and how I got there, so please tell me—"
"You mean to tell me you haven’t watched any news or read any papers lately?"
"What? No, I… I didn’t."
"Fuck, I don’t believe this! Your name and picture were practically everywhere in Brontspil! Everyone knows who you are!"
"W-What do you mean? Why am I—?"
"Hold on." He hastened back down the stairs. What is he talking about? Why am I all over the news and papers in Brontspil?
Does… does that mean Kelia also knows who I am? Did she lie to me?
She told me not to watch the news… she told me not to go outside…
Triggen returned to the room holding a folded newspaper in his hand. A frightening grin appeared on his face through his thick, dirty-looking beard. He looked at Lunarey and held the newspaper right in front of her. Now unfolded, the newspaper showed her picture on the front page, large enough to cover more than half of the page, while Triggen's hand purposely covered any text below it, denying her from seeing whatever is written about her, including her real name, which she guessed should have also been there.
So it's true. Lunarey was horrified.
"I'll tell you what" said Triggen. "You seem like a smart girl, so I'm actually going to guide you to the answers you seek."
"A-Alright…" she hesitated, unsure what he meant.
"Who do you think I work with?"
"Y-You mean in terms of a mob gang?"
"We don’t like to call it that."
"Well… I don’t know, I don’t see any Elastics, you could be in any of them."
"Right, right," he nodded his head and reached for a drawer in the nearby wooden cabinet. "Well, how about now?" he lifted up a grey mask which he pulled from the drawer.
"Oh… grey Elastics… that’s Harley Nation."
"Good girl," he giggled to himself. The rough-looking man ran his eyes over her tied body for a moment. His eyes seemed to be filled with harrowing lust. She feared what he might do to her. "Anyway…" he regained his focus eventually. "What do you know about Harley Nation?"
"I know that you're a biker gang. I know that you opened an outpost in Hawksen, Flintwood, about 4 years ago, after expanding from the United States, where you have a lot of outposts. I also know that your main source of income is organizing illegal gambling matches."
"Very good. How many outposts do we have?"
"I-I'm not sure. I only read about the one here."
"And one it is. Go on. What else do you know?"
"I…" she tried jogging her memory. "I know that your ringleader is Fane Hallstead, also known as the Red Rider."
"And why is he called that?"
"Because they say there are almost 30 murders believed to have been committed by him, and he was never charged to this day."
"Yeah, we can all thank our great buddies at APD for that."
"You mean Jonah Dillard, APD's Chief of Police?"
Triggen just shrugged in reply, ignoring her question almost altogether and carrying on his little game of leading Lunarey.
"So you know that I'm from Harley Nation. Still can't connect the dots?"
"D-Does that mean I'm part of Harley Nation or something?"
"Ha! Fuck no!" he burst into another spate of laughter.
Lunarey waited in silence until he calmed down again, feeling angrier and more agitated than ever.
"Just fucking tell me already!" she snapped at him.
"Shut up!" he yelled. "The next time you raise your voice at me, I'll hit you so hard you'll be spewing your organs on the floor!"
"Fine, alright."
"So… what do you know about the relationship Harley Nation has with other organizations?"
"I don’t know, there wasn’t much about it in my books. I read that the police suspects that they buy guns from Code Sanguinary like every other gang, but… I don’t know much else."
"Well, we also like to pay occasional visits to the Godly Succubi in Ashcote when we're in the area, so you can say we also contribute to Men of Midas in a way," he chuckled.
Lunarey simply stared at him in animosity. "Anyway, the gambling business only provided for us for a while, and eventually its ability to sustain us… died out. So about a year ago we decided to expand into other ventures. You see, our Harley buddies back in the US gave us the idea to work together with one of their outposts in Georgia on smuggling immigrants from the US to Alataria. Apparently, it was a market with high demand that no one offered here, so there was a lot of money to be made. Our plans of expansion didn’t bother people like Reus Mallistrom or Charles Blackburn, since Brontspil wasn’t their territory. Hell, even Jegaar Hill didn’t seem to give a shit. But Lady Dread did. They saw this as a threat to their sex trafficking business, and responded… quite rudely. Fane and Sunyula tried negotiating, but the bitch wouldn’t compromise or back down on anything, and soon enough it escalated. She tortured and killed all 3 of our lieutenants at the time, and left their mangled bodies at our outpost in Hawksen." Sunyula Trife… I've read more than enough about her cruelty and tendency for sadism. "This beef hasn’t been resolved for a year now." But why would he talk about the war between their gangs? What's the point behind it?
"It's been a long, bloody war. We've lost a lot of our members, as well as killed many of theirs. After a year of fighting, Fane is tired, and so are we. Sunyula was never known for being a reasonable woman. Once you get under her skin, she's not going to let go. All our attempts to make peace with her failed miserably. Frankly, I don’t know how that cunt has managed to keep her organization together for 7 years now."
Triggen looked upset. His mouth curved and his nostrils widened. "I've lost so many friends…" He ran his hand through his hair. After a moment of collecting himself, he turned to look at Lunarey again. "So… do you have any guesses about what’s going on?" Harley Nation hates Lady Dread, so… if I'm all over the newspapers… and I'm of some value to Harley Nation…
"Well?" he asked her.
"I…" the answer hanged in her throat. No… if it's what I think… no, it can't be…
"You just figured it out, haven’t you?" he grinned. "I can see it on your face." He looked happier than ever.
"Please, tell me I'm not—"
"Oh, but you are!" he flashed the newspaper in her face, now with his hand not covering the title beneath the picture she could read her full name.
MISSING: Vaikillia Trife
"No…" she muttered. My name is… Vaikillia Trife…
"You're Sunyula Trife's little daughter." Her eyes darkened.
"No…" she kept on muttering to herself. Her heart was beating fast. She refused to believe it. Lady Dread… that sadistic psycho… she's my mother? "No, no, no," she repeated.
"Oh, yes," Triggen said to her. "And when I'm done with you, your fucking mommy will be collecting you in pieces!"