Natasha rushes into the lobby and claps her heads to get the attention of her employees.
"Okay people, I want this place fucking spotless, lets get to work," she says lets like she's going to do actually work. She walks passed everyone and stands on the stage. She looks to the lighting director.
"Okay, I need a spotlight on me and then I need it to pan out and the floor lights to come up..."

Some of the cigarette girls and waitresses have shown up. The bar tenders and busers where out back smoking. All are moving about their own business. Natasha sits at the bar, a fine clove cigarette smoldering in a glass ash tray. She is dressed in fine attire, a gucci white silk shirt neatly tucked into a grey tweed pencil skirt. Silk stockings in dove grey grace her long legs and completeing her outfit are a pair of smart black heels. Her hair is left free in loose curls, parted on the side and tucked back with a small silver and diamond barrette.
She is looking over a stack of bills, finances always make her irritable, so many give her a wide berth. So, during days like this, none dare to be late, save for poor Anna. She comes tripping into the building, twenty minutes late. To add insult to injury, her appearance is dishelved and her uniform is incorrect. She tries not to make eye contact with Natasha as she hurries past her, shielding herself through a viel of honey blonde hair.
"Go to the powder room and make yourself presentable," she barks. Anna pauses briefly, sighs and starts off.
"Oh and Anna," Natasha calls to her. Anna stops in her tracks, her heart is racing, she slowly turns to see Natasha staring holes into her. She feels like her legs might take out right from under her. "Do not let this happen again."
Anna nods politely, bowing out. She heads to the back, to the powder room, sighing a breath of relief. She had expected Natasha to ream her out, right there infront of everyone. Crystal, one of Anna's friends and co-workers follows her back.
"Anna, this is the second time this week. Miss Milliner will shit a gold brick if you do it again," she says in a hushed voice. Anna storms into the powder room, forcing the swing door wide open. Crystal is a short, thick woman with medium length brown hair and dull hazel eyes. She is the opposite of Anna, being tall, lithe and mildly attractive.
Anna walks to a sink, leaning against it, her forehead pressed against the mirror. She stares into the sink like it would provid comfort or answers. Answers to why she's working this shit job.
"I fucking hate her," Anna snarls, but is quickly shushed by timid Crystal. Anna rolls her brown eyes. "I don't care if she hears me, Crystal. This job sucks, the pay sucks, the hours suck...it sucks big, giant, donkey cock!!!"
Crystal snickers as Anna tosses her baggy hobo purse into the sink. She opens it and fishes out a small make-up bag.
"I'm so tired of her tyraids," she hisses as she angrily washes foundation on to her face. "Then theres that loser asshole, fuck boy...Roger...He's younger then me and asisstant manager all-fucking-ready. He's some short shit with a napoleon complex who things he's some great tyrant. You know he hit on me last night?"
Crystal blinks in disbelief, "He did?"
Anna snarls and carefully applies eye liner before speaking, "Yeah, I turned him down flat and he gave me doubles all this week. I'm going to slash his tires I think."
Crystal laughs and Anna finishes with mascara and lip gloss. Both girls exit and clock in. Anna is faced with the scrunched up glare of Roger, the luliputian assistant manager. He's a balding man in his early fourties, with a cheap short sleeve button up shirt, tucked into pleated khakis. His pathetic clip on tie just makes him look like a joke to Anna. He stalks up to Anna, standing eye level with her stomach.
"I heard you were late," he snaps, a finger pointed toward her face. Anna rolls her eyes.
Roger gasps, "Don't you roll your fucking eyes at me to anorexic looking bitch..."
"ROGER!" Natasha's voice echos through the kitchen. Everyone freezes and Roger's shoulders meet his neck. He peeks at her over a shoulder.
"She was already late, do not delay her further with your pathetic, immature tantrum. She turned you down, get over it and change the schedule," she says in a strangely calm, cool, and collected voice. She nods to Anna as she passes her to exit the kitchen. Anna sighs, leaving Roger to her shame and to get about doing her job.
The whole shift, Anna felt watched. She would see movement in the shadows, but only from the corner of her eye. When she would turn to see, nothing would be there. It creeped her out. Infact, ever since she got a job here, she felt creeped out. Crystal reassured her that this was just the way of the speak easy. There are multitudes of ghost stories and campfire renderings of tragic deaths, trapped souls and other nonsense running about the employees. Anna never paid any mind to them, until tonight either way. tonight, was especially unsettling.
Quitting time comes and Crystal and her resign to rolling silver ware. Crystal was busy relating a story about her first day here when she is startled by Natasha's sudden appearance. She';s looking dead at Anna.
"Please follow me to my office Miss Baldachino."
Anna rises, giving Crystal a confused grin before she trails after Natasha. Natsha silently leads her up a black spiral stair case to her office that over looks the club. Natasha moves and sits behind her desk. She folds her hands before her, her eyes moving to an empty chair. anna is quick and directly sits in the offered seat.
"Miss Baldachino, I understand that you are unhappy with your current employment."
Anna gasps, leaning forward, her hands waving defensively, "no no Miss Milliner, I am quite happy."
"Don't bullshit me!" Natasha says sharply. "These walls have ears, and all ears lead to me. Now, what can I do to make your employment here more...comfortable for you?"
Anna stares at her in disbelief, "well, um...I don't know."
"You don't know. Hmm, I think you do. Otherwise, you would not have anything to be unhappy about.
"Well, Miss Milliner, I suppose you're right. Um, I don't live close and I have asked for morning shifts and all I get are evening shifts. I have to take care of my mother at night."
Natasha raises a brow, "You're mother. You are italian correct?"
"Yes ma'am, I don't see..." but Anna is silenced by a shushing from Natasha.
"I will change up your hours and allow for you to better take care of your mother. Is there anything else Miss Baldachino?" Natasha inquires. Anna can not believe her luck, Natasha is not known for her mercy or generosity.
"Um, I would like a little back up from management when it comes to disagreeable customers. I had one grope me and then threaten to sue when I slapped him."
"Yes, I remember," she says with a wicked smile. The man was duely taken care of. Wrapped up in duct tape, decorated with a bow and sent to her Cousin Alessio. The man was a masogenistic jock, strong as a bull, blood clean and refined, so she was sure his body was a worthy gift. "I will provide better service there as well. Anything else?"
Anna did not wish to push her luck, "No, ma'am."
Natasha nods and signals for her to leave. Anna gets up quickly, her things gathered in her hands.
"Anna one more thing, I need you for a show I will be having soon. I will be entertaining some 'friends' of mine. You are an attractive girl and my friends enjoy looking at attractive girls. Be charming and look your best, tomorrow evening at sun down. I now, can't work evenings, but just this one last time...I promise."
Her promise sounds like its slipping off the forked tongue of satan. Anna nods and leaves, feeling confused. The whole encounter empowered and unsettled all at the same time. She desends the staircase to an anxious Crystal.
"So?" Crystal asks impatiently.
"She um, gave me better hours if I work tomorrow evening," she says, her brows still knitted in confusion. "Lets go to the Pub, I can use a few drinks."
With that the girls leave. Natasha watches them through her two way mirror window.

(Explicit Content)

Anna had taken Natasha's advice and dressed herself up to the nines. She even went and had her make-up done professionally. She did her own hair, pulled into a tight french twist, with curls cascading beautifully from the top of the twist. the uniform for the night was a simple black dress that clings to her curves nicely. She paired it with black, resturant approved heels. They looked like shit, but where the only kind she could wear and work. They have a low, fat heel and are made mostly of rubber. She checks herself one last time before running out the door to her beat up, tri-color honda accord. She climbs in, throwing her sweater and purse into the passenger seat.
She grips the steering, her forehead pressed against it, her eyes closed as she whipsers a silent prayer that her car does start. Tentitively, she places the key into the ignition and turns it. Thne engine comes to life and she exhales with relief. She shifts into reverse pulls out, shifts into drive and pulls onto the highway. The Speak Easy is a twenty minute drive for her and she left early to give her plenty of time to get there. Infact, she had a whole hour to waste. She pulls up into the gravel area outside the club's nice, paved parking lot.  The gravelyard; as the employees call it, is really the employee parkinglot.The gravelyard is directly behind the club, hidden and isolated.
She gets out, her sweater draped over her arm, her purse on her shoulder and a marlboro light dangling from her freshly painted rosey lips. She knew after this smoke, she'd have to re-do them, but she didn't care. She searches her person for a lighter, but is startled when a man standing before her already had a lighter lit and ready for her. Not one to turn down free flame, she lights her smoke.
"Thank you," she says to the man.
"You're welcome," the man is Doug, Natasha's personal bitch boy. He is a sturdy man in his mid-thrities. He has light brown hair, but is touched with gray at his temples. Once upon a time, he was actually attractive, but Natasha has stolen that from him. Three scars mar his face. They look as though some wild animal attacked him and slashed his face. It could be possible. Anna instinctively wishes to recoil when he steps close. His top lip is split in half, appearing if he may have a cleft pallete. Anna thinks he looks like a back up hills have eyes mutant.
"I see you around Natasha quite a bit. You're name is Doug isn't it?" she inquires.
He nods, spitting on the ground near his feet, "Yep, thats me. Um, how long until you have to go in?"
She smiles, "Um, about an hour. Why? You going to tell Natasha on me?"
"Nope," he states simply. She doesn't notice how his muddy eyes roam her body. She fails to notice the hungry burn in his eyes, and remains unalarmed. Doug is a 'nice guy', he help her out with the garbage sometimes. he's just real quiet, likes to keep to himself, very unassuming man. He just never disclosed his name until now. He takes a deep breath, looking around him nervously, checking cars near by and even waving to passer bys.
"An hour huh?" he says to her with a strange predatory smile. She nods and smiles, tossing her head to the side to sweep honey gold bangs back in place. But that pretty smile is quickly wiped away. He charges her, pushing her down over the hood of her car. The hood dents under the weight of both of them. He places a hand firmly over her mouth, and the other around her neck.
"If you scream, I will fucking kill you," he whispers to her. His mangled lips brushing over her ear. She shudders. "If you tell Natasha, I will not only kill you, but I'll do this again!"
Anna begins to whimper, the sounds muffled behind his hand. She is too frightened to fight back, especially when he takes a hand off her neck to pull a butterfly knife from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. She freezes, her eyes pinned on the shiney blade as it glints angrily in the moonlight. He places it to her throat as he removes the hand from her mouth.
He picked the perfect place, all views are cut off because of the building. The only camera is not to watch the parking lot, but to watch the back exit very carefully. Her screams wouldn't be heard over the loud music all ready thumping the club's walls. Anna's face scrunches up as she cries. Large, saltly tears streak her fresh new make-up. Black mascara stains her pretty pink cheeks. Doug sees this and begin to cuss, he presses the blade agianst her throat. The blade is sharp and cuts her lightly. She gasps and coughs as she chokes on her own spit.
"Quit fucking crying bitch," he snaps. His knuckles come crashing down across her cheeks as he backhands her roughly.. She winces in pain, gasping and choking for breath. He grabs her hair and forces her back, using the knife as an intimidation meassure. He waves the blade in her face, a twisted psychotic grin on his scarred face. He leans in to kiss her, his rough lips try to capture hers. But she has pulling back, her twist pursed shut, her eyes closed and brows knitted in disgust. Doug pulls back and stares at her angrily.
"Do I disgust you whore? Am I so fucking ugly, even a cheap whore like yourself can't even kiss me?"
She spits in his face, "GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU HAIR-LIP FUCKER!!!!"
She knees him in the groin hard. Doug doubles over groaning. Anna uses this opportunity to kick him again and push him off her. She trips up, her world is spinning. The shot to her head took something out of her. She tries to run, but only ends up staggering a few feet before falling face first onto the gravel. She groans, pulling herself up some and uses her arms to pull herself forward. Doug was begining to recover when he notices she was trying to escape. He growls, he picks up the knife from the ground before stalking her. He pounces on her, placing the knife against her throat again.
"Do not do that again," he hisses in her ear. He chuckles and licks her ear, the tip of his tongue tracing her earlobe. She gags some and he just laughs. She dare not scream. Doug rolls her over on to her back and repositions himself so her legs are parted before him. He grins wickedly to her and she closes her eyes tightly, trying to force this moment fom her mind. Her cheek began to swell and sting, she could feel the heat coming from it.
So much for looking her best and being on time. The knife moves away from her throat. She squints her eyes closed tightly, her lips twisted and pulled back in a pained grimace. She feels the tip of the blade trace over her neck, down her collar bone and to her clevage. She feels the blade slice through the top of her dress. She feels air hit her chest and she knows her breasts are exposed. She begins to sob quietly.
"That's right 'Natasha'," he whispers with twisted glee. "cry for Daddy. Daddy loves it when his BITCH cries."
Every fiber of her being wanted to scream, she wanted to scratch, claw, bite, whatever she needed to do to get him off her. He was laughing, like a deranged maniac. He started to call her Natasha and a bitch. He uses the knife to cut away her undergarments. She heard the unmistakable metalic sound of a zipper coming undone. The idea of him doing this made her physically ill. She rolls to the side and vomits on the ground next to her. Doug recoils as he doesn't want vomit on him.
"You disgusting pig," He says through a joyful giggle. He waves the knife point at her like a puncuation mark. "I ought to make you eat it Natasha."
She looks to him and spit it at him. He wipes it from his face and kick her across the jaw. She falls limp and blood pools from out of her mouth, onto the gravel under her. He didn't care if she was awake or not, he climbs on to of her and proceeds to rape her.
Hours seems to pass before he is finished. He had hit her a few more times, only because she decided to get wild and claw at his eyes. She didn't dare scream though. He starggers back, shoving himself back into his faded blue jeans. He smiles to her, watching her curl up in a fetal position and cry loudly. Her sobs filled the air around them. The flash of approaching headlights startle Doug and he rushes to her, snatching her up by the hair of her head. He holds her as he opens the car door of her car. He forces her to get in the back seat and lay down.
He looks at her, pointing at her with a stern finger, "just keep your pretty dicklick closed and I'll let you live."
"You're a monster," she hisses at him. He just laughs.
"I'm a monster," he staggers back and kicks her tire. He throws his head back in crazed laughter. He looks at her, shaking his head. Slowly, he approaches her again.
"I ain't the monster here baby. Open your pretty fucking eyes. Monster's are all around you, buying drinks from you, doing everything we do," he says, and after raping her, she really doesn't believe him.
"You are FUCKING CRAZY!!!!" she finds the courage in herself to scream. This catches Doug off gaurd, and the heel to his chin really throw him. He staggers back and Anna rushes out of the car.  She runs into the street waving her arms, trying to get the approaching car to stop. It does stop, the lights remain on her.She is obviously in distress. Her face looks like hamburger, her dress is all sliced up and there are cerrtainly many slices oin her breast and throat. She just stands there, half wanting them to run her over. Doug runs over to her, but fear washes over him when his eyes hit the car. The back door to the limo opens and out steps Natasha.
With cold indifference, she surveys the disaster infront of her. She shuts the door, stalking over to Doug. She stares holes into his shrinking form. He shies away from her, scooting far back out of arm's length. He knows just what she is capable of.
"Anna?" Natasha calls the girl. Weakly, Anna looks at her. Natasha's lips curl in disgust. "You look like Alice Cooper if he got into a bar fight. Get in the car."
Anna nods and does what she is told. She limps over to the car and opens the door. Doug watches nervously as her form disappears inside the car. He looks to Natasha just the moment her fist comes crashing into his nose. The force knocks him off his feet and breaks his nose. Blood pours down his neck and soaked into his shirt.
"Take yourself to the hospital you wretched piece of shit, then come to my house. I'll deal with you then," she says sharply before tunring and heading back to her car. She gets in and the car leaves Doug there.

Anna shivers, her body sizzling in pain. Her left eye bleeds as it swells.
"Your face looks like shit," Natasha says. "Don't worry about Doug. He will be dealt with."
Natasha had not known when she ghouled him that he was serial rapist. She had not known that he had a domineering mother and took his agression toward his mother out on other women. He wanted desperately to dominate a woman, just a woman dominated him. Things are so different for him now. Well, his mother is dead and he is now dominated by Natasha. A woman he both loathes and loves.
"What am I supposed to do?" Anna asks Natasha. Natasha's icy, stolid stare puts her quite ill at ease. Natasha reaches for her built in fridge. A small unit for chilling drinks and apparently wads of cash. She hands Anna a roll of hundreds.
"Thats a thousand, if you nbeed more, let me know."
"More?" Anna inquires. "More for what?"
"More not to go to the police."
Anna recoils back in shock, then anger washes over er, "how dare you! I get assaulted by your fuckboy and a lousy thousand bucks to makle sure he stays on the street? Fuck you."
Natasha's face doesn't waver. She opens the fridge again and hands her three stacks of bills. Anna's eyes go wide, she could quit this job, pay someone to kill Doug and go live in Flordia bill free for a year.
"H-how much?" Anna stutters.
"$280,000 dollars. thats a quater of a million, anymore and I'll have you killed."
Anna blinks... her mouth open to speak. She doesn;t even known how to react to this.
"W-what am I supposed to do?"
Natasha smiles. "You make small deposits into your bank, keep your mouth shut and go about you merry life my dear."
Everyone has their price, and apparently that was Anna's price. She agrees and shoves the money into her purse.
"Good good, don't worry about tonight. Go home, take care of yourself and if you want. There will always be a job for you at the Speak Easy. Would you like a drink?"
Anna nods and Natasha takes a bottle of pinot nior from the fridge. She also takes two wine glasses. The dark cerise liquid is poured into the glass, along with a decent amount of Natasha's own blood. She smiles, handing the tall glass to the girl.
"Tell me where you live again?"

(to be continued)  

--Last edited by Natasha Milliner on 2008-07-13 20:32:09 --

(more adult stuff. ENJOY!!!)

Natasha had dropped off Anna. The reason Natasha is being so kind to Anna is because she likes her. She sees her as some kind of pet project. See, she is looking for a capable assistant. Vainly, she wants an attractive girl, but one not so attractive that it would compete with her own beauty. Anna is a lovely girl, if you don't mind tall, and built like some sort of exotic bird. She has long legs, but no curve to them. Her torso is also long, her breasts are small; barely even a cups, and her hipbones are quite visible. She's just very thin. Her face is nice, she has bright blue eyes with thick natural lashes. Her lips are nicely shaped, full, but long. Her nose is a bit angular as is her jawline and high cheek bones.
Well, her face isn't too nice right now. Natasha had a personal doctor come in and looks at Anna. Her nose was broken, she was missing two back molars, and there was soft tissue damage to her left knee. There was massive bruising to her face and her cheek and nose needed thirty stitches all together. After the physician left, so did Natasha. Anna had more then enough money to take care of herself.
Natasha returns to her Victorian, with Doug waiting for her in the livingroom. Natasha observes him with a stoild expression, frigid and indistinct. He stands, ringing a handkerchief in his hands, his eyes locked on his worn boots.
"Golem!" she calls for her seven foot tall eunich named appropriately Golem. He is solid muscle from head to toe, his face a mangled maze of scars. He is bald, and his shoulders meet his chin. He cracks his knuckles in the palm of his massive fist. He makes the Wrestler, The Big Show, look puny. Doug swallow a pit in his throat. "Take Doug down stairs and ready him."
Doug tries to run, but Golem has snatched him up quickly. His grip is tighter then Doug had expected and struggles fruitlessly against the giant's grasp.
"No, mistress, please. Please, I swear it will not happen again," he begs.
"SHUT UP with your pathetic simpering and take your punishment like a real man. Golem here has been castered completely and still has more balls then you -ever- will," she says and narrows her eyes at him. Doug looks as though she had struck him and Natasha smiles.
"She called me a monster!" he calls after her as Golem drags him to the locked and sealed door. He holds him fast as he enters the code to open the basement door. "Well, if I am a monster, then...then...You made me that way!"
Natasha throw her head back in hautey laughter, "Made you! Made you! Your smother mother and the fact she dropped you as a baby made you a monster. I just took you in like s tray dog, because in the end...thats all you are. My pet dog. Golem! Tie him up, I'll show this dog his place."
Doug stares helplessly as he is drug downstairs and that door hisses closed behind them. Golem looks at Doug, "sorry....friend..." he says in an ultra-deep voice. Its obvious by his broken speech that he is not to intelligent. Like a good dog, he just does as he is told. Doug looks at him curiously, then fear when sudden realization overcomes him. Golem punches him and knocks him out flat.
Doug wakes up as shock surges through his body. Icy cold water splashes over his bare torso and face. He is shirtless, but otherwise clothed. He is chained up by shackles from the middle of the room. His arms hang above his head and his feet can just barely touch the floor. There is a spotlight above him shadowing everything else in the room. It was just pitch black all around him. He sighs and shakes with fear. He knew what was coming, his back already baring scars from previous run ins.
A loud crack startles him, and the rythmic tip-taping of high heels echos all around him. Natasha seems to materialize from the darkness. She is dressed just as she was earlier, pencil skirt, white blouse, smart black heels. Except, this time she has interesting accessories. A long, black whip, drug behind her like a demon's tail, and a black zorro mask. She smiles sweetly to him and giggles girlishly. She cracks the whip again, laughing when Doug winces. He braces himself for the coming lashes.
"So, answer these questions and I won't even have to hurt you...to badly," she says, her deeply feminine voice echoing in the room and in his mind. Her words burn like acid in his brain. "Why do you -feel- that it is proper ro rape my waitresses? Have we not gone over this time and time again?"
She smacks the hilt of the whip against her palm to emphasize her words. Doug hangs his head in quiet submission.
She growls, "Then why do you keep doing it over and over and over?" She punctuates her over and over's with lashings. "Haven't" THWACK "I" THWACK "Been good to you?" THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! the lashings crack like thunder in the cavenous room. His screams eminate through out it and it makes Natasha smile. Doug whimpers, gasping and hissing in pain. He looks up, to find her, and finds a blinking red light in the darkness. She is video taping it, he looks atr her curiously.
"Oh," she gasps and giggles. "The camera, well, I'm taping this so you can watch it later tonight to further remind you why you do not disopbey me. Won't that be delightful?"
She waits for his reaction, when she gets none she growls in frustration and punishes him with a volley of slashes. One attack right after the other. Blood pours from his back as the leather bites into his flesh. Natasha is caught by splatter.  She finishes, but he continues to scream. She pulls back, her face a mask of calm surprize. She appears to sigh as she fixes a wry strand back into its proper place. She wipes the blood from her cheek and licks it off her finger. She scowls at the taste, her lips curled back in disgust and she whips him once more.
"You taste like shit. You should be eating more fatty acids and omega three's. I'll put some fish into your diet, if you're a good boy. Now, about the rape itself, what did you say to her? Did you tell her about me, about...the kindred?"
"No Ma'am, I said nothing about you," he whispers. She nods, satisfied with his answer. He hears her pacing back and fourth behind him.
"I'm thinking I should make you like I made Golem. Maybe without your tiny, impudent, equiptment, you won't feel the need to rape? Maybe you really are like a dog and will become complacent and agreeable without your itty bitty little prick? What say you?"
"Please miss, I would like to keep my tiny, pathetic, useless prick," he insults himself to try to please her.
"So, you agree your stuff is junk?" she whips him hard. "You're disgusting. Don't agree with me if you don't."
She laughs and comes around infront of him, face to face. She grins wickedly.
"Did she enjoy it?" she raises a brow.
Doug smiles, "I believe she did."
Natasha's face become an emotionless mask yet again, "Of course you do."
She walks around behind him, "are you God's gift to women. Is she lucky you chose her out of the herd? Should she be thanking that God of hers that you 'mated' with her?"
When Doug doesn't even defend himself and begins another vicious assault on him with a blood soaked whip. She was getting pretty dotted with blood splatter, so much for her designer clothes. She spits on him.
"You are worthless and I grow tired of whipping you," she says and passes the whip off to Golem who was apparently waiting for her in the shadows. "Whip him until he passes out." Golem does just as he is told and each slash from him is attached to a marked scream of pain. Natasha smiles and struts out of the room quite pleased with herself.
A few minutes into the constant lashing, Doug finds himself bandaged and in his tiny room. It hurt too badly to move. He lays back on the bed, staring at his IV and the glass bottle holding his solution. The TV comes on suddenly, startling him. He stares at the staic as it screams at him. The scene comes into view and it is him, unconcious and strung up. It is the tape of his whipping, Natasha held true to her words. Doug's eye go wide before he just screams and hollars profanities to the heavens....all effort falling on deaf ears. Natasha is busy relaxing in a soothe soak in her private bath. She needs it after such a work out.

Anna sits quietly on the benchseat of her panopramic windows of her apartment. It wasn't big or luxurious, but it had a lovely view of Sanfield. She breaths out a pufff of smoke through her teeth. Her vainity touches her as her eyes find a decorative mirror within her view. She smiles, but quickly frowns. Her teeth could use some white strips or that zoom zoom stuff she thought to herself. Infact, most of the rainy, cloudy morning she has been contemplating so many things. The rape especially.
Soft blue eyes fall on the large stack of bills, resting silently on her 80's throw back glass coffee table. Natasha has given her so much not to tell on that pervert...that predator. She could only imagine what Natasha had done to him, unfortunately, she wasn't even close to knowing the truth. She figured Natasha would sit him down and 'talk' to him about the incident. This enrages Anna and she expresses it by throwing a large marble ashtray across the room. It crashes into the mirror, sending shards glittering to the floor. She stares at the glass on the floor, each tiny particale reflecting the minimal sunlight in a brilliant disco ball dance of light against her wooden panel covered walls.
She pulls her knees to her chest, sobbing all over agaim. In the kitchen, the small black and white TV blares out something about missing babies from a local hospital. All that falls on her deaf ears. She screams, the sounds echoing through her apartment causing the indian man below her to hit his cieling with a broom.
"Shut up in there, " she minmicks him is a cheesy indian accent. "Thank you very much, come again!"
She rolls her eyes and climbs off her bench. She paces back and fourth, the event still running over and over in her mind like a movie stuck on a loop. It was going to drive her crazy.
Suddenly, there is a break in her torment as her doorbell rings. She blinks and listens as Crystal's voice come piping through her call box. She was always sickeningly cheerful. Though, Anna did not feel like company, she still buzzes her friend up. In no time at all, Crystal in boucing into her apartment, her arms heavy with grocery bags.
"Hey there you look..." her happy greeting and bright smile fade to a grimace. "You look like shit."
"Yeah? Fuck you," Anna snarls. Crystal rolls her eyes and pushes past her waify friend to the kitchen. She hums a joyful little tune as she begins to unpack and set up in Anna's kitchen. Anna found Crystal's cheer and delight to be insulting. But instead of throwing her out, she decides to just mope about her apartment like she had been doing. Crystal walks into the living area to ask Anna what she wanted to eat. Her brown eyes fall on the stack of money and her jaw practically hits the floor. shje rushes over, snatches it up and shows it to Anna as if she had not see a quater of a million dollars sitting on her coffee table.
"Where did you get all this!? Do you know what this is?"
"$200,000 in unmarked, untraceable dollars more then likely, and don't worry where I got it."
Crystal purses her lips and frowns, "Yeah yeah smart ass. I assume it has something to do with the fact it looks like you went four rounds with Mike Tyson?"
Anna touches her still swollen cheek, her fingertips grazing over the stiches on her cheek. She knows it will scar and finding prince charming is going to be harder then ever.
"Mind your own fucking business Crystal. I didn't ask you to come over and I damn sure didn't ask you to go through my shit or fix me food or anything of that!" Anna snaps at the one girl who has been nothing but kind to her since she got into town. Crystal looks as though Anna had just slapped her. calmly, she puts down the money, gathers her things and storms out of Anna's apartment.
Anna scowls and sighs. She knew she was wrong and calls after her, "Crystal!"
But it was too late, Crystal had gone. She ran out of the building, in tears more then likely. Anna has yet again self sabotaged herself. Crystal only wanted to help and she had pushed her away. She screams again, running to the nearest wall and punching it as hard as she can until her knuckles bleed. The man hits his cieling again.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP SAND NI..."she cuts herself off as the pain in her hand reaches her senses. She gasp and winces, gripping her injured hand. She falls into a heap. holding her likely broken hand and crying pitifully. Her eyes drift toward the heavens angrily.
"Yeah, and fuck you too."

Anna does not leave her apartment for days. Those days quickly turn into weeks, and soone enough those weeks turned into a month. Anna was laid, face down, in the bed; still knee deep in a pain killer induced coma when someone banging at the door practically knocked her off the bed. She lifts her head out of her saliva soaked pillow and glowers at the offending sound.
"Who the fuck is there?" she screams, not even bothering rising up off her bed.
The voice on the other side was a thick Indian accent," hey Blonde woman, come open door. You are late with rent, been one month. Have two hours to get me money or you are out."
She groans and rolls off the bed. She snatches a stack of bills off the table and stomps over to the door. She opens it quickly, glowering at the man in a turban. She pulls three hundreds off the stack and throws itin his face. he just stanmds there, not sure what so say. She hadn't showered in a month, hadn't changed clothed, and had a giant zit between her brows. She looked awful even though her face was almost healed with minimal scarring.
She shuts the door in his face and tosses the stack into a chair as she heads back to the bedroom. Her image passing in a mirror caugh her attention. She backed up and looked at herself for a moment before quirking a brow. She runs her fingers through her mussed blonde hair and attempted to smooth it down.
"I look like a troll doll," she says as she fluffs it up and it actually stays. she sighs and peels off her stained clothes as she finally heads to the shower.
One hour and thrity minutes later she comes strolling out, scrubbed, lathered, rinsed, repeated and even shaved. She dries herself with a towel and dressed in a white camisole and blue jeans. She puts a belt around her waist, slips on flip flops and spend thrity more minutes fixing her hair. She takes another ten minutes to put on her make-up just the way she likes it. She packs a small shoulder purse, stopping to look at the blood money. She paid you to stay quite, might as well have fun with it. She grabs a stackful and shoves it into her purse.
She leaves in her car, stopping in a used car lot. She had pretty good credit and used her car as a trade in for a rather nice pontiac GTO. It wasn't good on gas and it was a stick shift, but it sounded nice and ran even better. She pays off the bill flat and leaves the lot in her new car.
She decides to cruise the main strip of town for a bit. The car is cherry, painted a candy blue with white racing stripes, and even better, it roared like some hell beast. She loves it and spin her tires at a red light. The guys in the car next to her hang out the window hollering at her. She just laughs and speeds down the road to the power company. She pulls into the lot and parks. There is a little hitch to her giddy up as she gets out of her car. She smiles for the first time in weeks and even struts a little. Who says Money doesn't make things better?
She spends the rest of the day paying off her debts or paying bills in advance. She stop in at a Cafe for a coffee and a smoke. She reclines back in the steel, white painted, outdoor chair. It wasn't at all comfortable, but she has been on her feet all day and it was a welcome thing just to sit down. She spent some good money on some sweet dreams Vanilla flavor cigarettes. As she breaths out some sweet smoke she licks the sugar from her lips, slowly savoring the taste. Simple pleasures really. But its amazing how your mind can wander and fuck you up. She reaches back in the recesses of her mind, plowing deep into the precipice and pulling out the horrors she wished to escape.
Suddenly, everyone looked like Doug, he was all around her. The waiter coming to bring her coffee, the woman across from her reading a newspaper, the man standing outside pan handling and playing a guitar, they all looked like Doug. She recoils back from the waiter, knocking over the chair as she stands. She backs away from them, fear a heavy mask on her face. The cigarette falls to the ground in a spray of hot rock. The waiter is concerned and asks her if she was okay, but that not what Anna heard.
"Scream for Daddy," Doug's voice echos in her mind. Anna's eyes go wide and she kicks the table infront of her over, anything to halt the waiter's approach. he jumps back, getting a lap of hot coffee. The waiter doubles over, groaning and this triggers more memories. She sees Doug, bent over from the groin kick. Then she remembers his boot crushing her cheek. She screams and runs like an Olympic runner down the street. people do well to get out of her way as she is much like a panicked cow, she'll just run over you. Her heart was beating in her ears, her lungs ached and her legs felt like they were made of air.
A cop sees her running, assuming she was in danger tries to flag her down.
"Miss!" he calls after her. Anna pauses to look, but instead of seeing a cop, she sees Doug smiling and twisting that blade in the air.
She holds her hands up defensively, "NO!!!"
She backs up and right into a homeless man's cart. She backflips over it, landing with some decent force on her side. She gasps, the pain wracking through her body. The pain snaps her out of her delusions and the cop hovering over her is no longer Doug. She grabs the policeman's arms and pulls him forward until her arms could embrace him. She buries her face into his shoulder and begins to sob. The bewildered policeman hesitantly hugs her. He uses a free hand to call for a bus on his radio. Anna starts to shake as she comes down from her adreniline rush, her own sobs drowning out any sounds around her.
Anna is taken by Ambulance to the hospital and admitted to the mental ward. she si set up on suicide watch after telling the nurse she had concidered it after a bad accident. The nurse pushed for information on said accident, but Anna remained tight lipped. The doctors gave her a full work up, but found she just had some bruised ribs and the previous injuries were already healing.
A nurse rolls her back to her room and even helps her out of the wheelchair and to her bed.
"I'll bring you another blanket sugar," the nurse said. Anna smiles, she liked the older woman's thick southern accent. Anna watches her leave, making sure she is gone before turning on the TV. She searches the channels when a knock comes at the door.
"Come in," she calls. The door opens and she sees a giant bouquet of flowers, and a set of shapely female legs.  

--Last edited by Natasha Milliner on 2008-07-16 22:01:51 --

 Goergio calls up Natasha inquiring about the performance, it seems he has an itch for a good performance and is interested in how much longer he must wait. He does seem to understand perfection requires patience and time, but he is just interested in a vague time frame, so everyone that should be invited, in fact are.

The flowers are set on the table and Natasha observes anna with her usually stoic expression. She approaches Anna slowly, but excuses herself to answer the phone. She nods silently, listening to the voice on the other end.
"Oh sweetie, it won't be too much longer. I just want everything to be perfect. You know Kara has agreed to sing. Yes, she agreed to sing your requested song. Yes, of course darling. Give me two weeks and everything will be perfect," she states softly in a hushed voice. Anna hears only bits and pieces, but not much to make up any kind of opinion. She says her goodbyes and hangs up her phone. She turns and regards Anna once more.
"I came to bring you some flowers and to see if you were all right. Are you all right?" if there was concern from Natasha, it wasn't echoed in her voice. Despite the ice princess routine Anna gets from Natasha, she is actually grateful and pleased to see this woman.
"I'm fine, now. I think they pumped me full of thorizine and set me up in here on suicide watch. They just recently took the restraints off me."
"Yes, they told me you got a bit unruly. You apparently you cold cocked the doctor and practically broke his nose. Who knew you were a brawler," Natasha says as she idly rearranges the flowers.
Anna smirks at that, "Yeah, just cause I'm a skinny bitch doesn't mean I'm helpless."
"Don't call yourself that," Natasha scolds the woman. Anna blinks, confused at what got Natasha upset.
"Call myself what?"
"A bitch," Natasha says sharply. "You are not a bitch and if you don't respect yourself, no one else ever will."
Anna concidered these words carefully. she hadn't really put much thought to such things. That disresepcting herself attracts disrespectful people. She sighs softly, her eyes observing Natasha again. Natasha sets the flowers down on a table somewhere.
"I will be hosting a show, an opera for my family and other extended family members. I would still like you to be there, but if not, I sure I can find other useful things for you to do," she says. Anna was about to protest, but Natasha silences her. "You will be well compensated for your time. I will pay your hospital bills, but once they give you the okay...I want you back at the Speak Easy."
Anna nods, turning her gaze to the lone window in her sterile room. When he gaze returns to Natasha, she sees the Natasha is no longer there. She blinks and rubs her eyes. Natasha certainly is a strange bird.  

--Last edited by Natasha Milliner on 2008-08-02 23:10:42 --