A Life Less Ordinary

by Scarlett Cross

  “My God…” The woman whispered, seeming suddenly cowed as a dim battery-powered lantern came on and she saw a filthy mattress that looked as if it had been dipped in blood two or three times over. The smell only served to turn her stomach so she had no desire to approach it, though she couldn’t help but notice it was an enormous mattress, not a twin as one might expect to find in a cell. Then it occurred to her; they would come in here to do whatever they wished with her, she most likely wouldn’t leave this room again alive. Praying softly, she crossed herself several times as Dmitri smirked down at her. Finally, he turned and left for whatever meal he had spoken of, for the second man had called him, and only then did she open her eyes once more, wondering how fast he would eat. Too fast, she decided, before returning to her devotions and her prayers for divine intervention, for any sort of intervention.

  Chapter 71

  “I…I have never seen Oleg so shaken…it was as if he had seen ghost. But…he would not tell me what he had seen…did he tell you?” Anya asked, looking directly at Aleksei, whom Oleg had threatened with castration if he told her. Aleksei felt the blood drain from his face. How could he hide anything from this woman, his twin sister? “He did. I can see it on your face. But you are not going to tell me, are you?”

  “Nyet. But Anya…I want to but…he does not wish me to do so at this time, and to be honest, I agree with him. Is better you do not know. No one else knows. I have not…” he broke off as Yuri entered the car, looking bored and miserable, which was pretty much how he had looked ever since they had left Spain on the passenger train to parts in the cold north of Europe. “What?”

  “Wow, hello to you too.” Yuri flopped down beside Aleksei, who immediately moved to sit next to his sister, across the aisle from the dark haired, brooding young man. “When is this going to stop, Alex?” When no answer came, from either person, he sighed heavily. “Fine.” He got up, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and retreated back to his private car. Aleksei had insisted Rosa have her own car, and Anya, but as it turned out he was so angry at Yuri, so hurt by his deception, he had ended up sleeping in Anya’s and then Rosa’s, alternately, leaving Yuri to sleep by himself.

  “What has happened between two of you? You were so happy just few months ago at Ivan and Lizzie’s christening…” Anya said, and Aleksei put his hands over his eyes immediately, because the tears came that quick at her show of concern. “Aleksei…oh…” She put Ivan, who was already an enormous babe that, like Lizzie, hardly cried, even when his diaper was soiled or he was hungry, in the fold-down crib built into this berth, and wrapped her arms around him. “Things are not okay for you, my brother…I should have seen…I am so sorry…”

  “It…I just…” He sighed heavily and wiped his eyes angrily, then stood and pulled the shade down when he noticed Yuri was watching him with big, pitiful eyes, from the corridor. “Just after christening, he started sneaking out at night. I do not know how long it had been going on; I only caught on because I woke up one night…I am still not sure what woke me, as I am usually very deep sleeper. Might have been dream, might have been his not being there, you know, absence of warmth. Whatever it was, I have asked myself million times why in hell I had to wake up.”

  “Because you sensed something was wrong, most likely.” Anya said, softly, bending to plug Ivan’s pacifier back in his mouth so that he continued sleeping undisturbed. “We are sensitive to such things, are we not?”

  “I thought at first it was isolated incident, but next night, when it was time to sleep after we…after…well you know…I could not sleep. I had to know. Was it fluke or was there something more?” Aleksei sighed and Anya pulled him back in, close to her, planting a kiss on his forehead and stroking away some errant strands of his carefully styled hair. Her own purple eyes were locked on his as she listened, and he could tell he finally had someone who would always be there for him. She always had been, now, as he looked at her, he suddenly remembered their talks as children, but in the face of his emotional troubles, he pushed it aside. “Next night, same time, just as soon as he thought I had fallen asleep after our nightly affections…he slipped out.”

  “And what about next night?” Anya asked, turning away only then because Ivan sighed sweetly in his sleep, a small smile played across her lips, but her face turned serious again when she returned her focus to Aleksei. “Did he go out again?”

  “Nyet. But he did next night. Three to four nights during week and every Saturday. And…he stopped…wanting me anymore.” Aleksei said, this admission alone reduced him to heart-wrenching sobs that were so powerful Anya got tears in her eyes and little Ivan let out a wail in his sleep that startled them both. Aleksei pressed a silk hankie to his mouth to stifle his crying, but Ivan did not wake, he slept on in peace once the sound of the doctor crying had softened. “That…I think he…”

  “You think he is cheating on you? But with who, Aleksei? Did you see any indication other than his lack of interest and his sneaking out?” Anya asked and he looked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You know, suck marks on his neck or other places, scratches on his back, perhaps indications he’s had sex…well…down there…rawness or anything?”

  “Since he started refusing me I have not seen him completely naked. But…well…he had expansive tattooing on his back and most everywhere but his thighs and face. You have seen, he even has them on his neck…” Aleksei said. “I wanted to…see if maybe I could catch whiff of perfume or cologne on his clothes…he is bi-sexual, you know? But he always washes his clothing before coming to bed…”

  “Bi-sexual, you say.” Anya got a sly look on her face then, her eyes turning towards the door, because she knew Yuri was standing just outside, listening, though their soft words could hardly be heard over the rumble of the train. “Aleksei…would you be angry if I tried something…”

  “Anya…Oleg would kill Yuri if he found out you…had even looked…I cannot…” He sighed heavily, then clasped her hands in his almost desperately. “Would you do that for me?”

  “Only for you. I want to know what he has been up to as much as you. In such dangerous times is not safe for him to be sneaking and creeping. No telling who may be watching, you know?” She raised his hands to her lips and kissed them. “Here is what we will do…I think this should work, but you should make sure Rosa knows is okay and not to interfere…that would ruin plan. Just…promise her I will not let it go too far…even if we both know I may have to if you want information from him. Is time for old whore to teach new dog some hard lessons, da?”

  “Da.”

  Chapter 72

  She ran her fingers across the dusty, filthy floor, absently. Her throat hurt she was so parched, and she was considering offering the dark-haired one anything for a drink of water. It felt as if she’d been sitting for days, though she really didn’t know how long it had been since there were no windows. The lantern had sputtered and died some time ago, and now she was left in absolute darkness, as the door to the room, which she had noticed was made of reinforced steel, was closed and locked. As if she could run with a collar on that was chained to the ceiling, oddly enough. When she thought about it, and she tried hard not to, it made sense, as she’d be more mobile this way and there was less chance of anyone tripping over the chain if it wasn’t on the floor. Of course, it was when she was sitting or lying down, but not much of it.

  Finally, when she was about to give in and start making offers, a small door opened at the bottom of the larger door and someone shoved in a half-bottle of water and what looked like, before the small door closed, an apple. She crawled forward, sliding her hands along carefully so as not to upset the bottle, which she still almost managed to do before catching it.

  Without giving a second thought to it, she drank the water in one go, not realizing maybe she should have saved some. Not considering that maybe the water was drugged. She was too thirsty and hungry for any rational thought by that point, and she devoured the apple, even the core, thinking it had t
o be the best, sweetest apple she’d ever tasted. Then her stomach began to feel queasy, and she thought she might vomit so she flipped the heavy mattress over in the darkness, which didn’t do much to improve the smell of it, and laid down on it, curling herself into a ball.

  She woke with a start to the sound of music playing very loud, very close by her, and opened her eyes, dismayed to find it was still pitch black in the underground cell. Sitting up, she realized she had to pee like mad, and crawled across the floor, feeling for the large bucket she’d seen in one of the corners near the door. After using it, and some toilet paper someone had been considerate enough to leave, she stood to pull up her tight once-white pants, but someone grabbed her hands. She shrieked and tried to recoil, but the large hands held her, and she felt him step directly in the center of what would be the crotch of her panties, actually, pushing her lower-clothing, jeans and all, down to her ankles.

  “Step out.” He said, his voice little more than a raspy whisper, so it was impossible to tell which of the two this was.

  “But…but my shoes…” She stammered.

  “Keep shoes on.” He replied, so she slipped her foot out of the shoe, then stepped back into it immediately so that he never knew the difference. When she had repeated this process with both feet, he released her and shooed her towards the bed with a slap on her bare backside. “I said you were to keep shoes on.”

  “But I…” He slapped her before she could say more, and she spun and fell onto the mattress. “Fucking asshole, that was not…” Another slap. How had he gotten so close to her so quickly?

  Then she realized it had been a different man, because now she was between them, one behind and one in front. The one in front of her used his bare hands to tear her shirt right down the middle, and then the one behind her peeled it off of her and unfastened her lacy royal-blue bra. Confused as to which man was which, she kept her mouth shut until she realized the man behind her was not there anymore.

  These men could move faster than any she’d ever met, how they did it was a complete mystery to her, but she didn’t dare ask. The man in front of her tweaked her nipples, gently at first so that she actually moaned softly, then hard enough it felt as if he might have ripped them off. The pain continued to radiate through them for several minutes after as she lay gasping, he had slapped her when she cried out at the pain.

  Something cold, hard, and metallic slipped down her chest then, and she froze, stilling her breathing as much as she could, trembling now at the touch of what she knew was a knife. For a moment, she considered begging, but then realized he’d probably only hit her again and kept her mouth shut instead. A wise decision, because he would have done just that, and though she did not know it, he would have certainly enjoyed it. The knife seemed to disappear, then, but she understood the implied threat. He had a knife, and he would not hesitate to slice her to ribbons.

  He moved her fingers to the buttons of his uniform shirt and she knew he wanted her to undress him, so she did, obediently. When her long, manicured nails scratched him, he shuddered slightly as if he enjoyed the sensation. Duly noted, she could use her nails, albeit lightly, and possibly later dig some DNA that might be traced if anyone ever found her body. The smell of him was overwhelmingly manly, unlike her own husband who, despite his Mafioso ego, was nothing if not a little on the feminine side. In fact, they hadn’t even had children after six years of marriage. Her friends all said she was nothing but a cover story, married to cover up the fact he was gay. Why in the hell was she thinking of him at this moment, anyway? He seemed to sense he had lost her complete attention and grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back.

  At first she flinched, expecting another slap, but instead found his lips on hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth so forcefully he broke the skin on her bottom lip. After a long kiss that left her dizzy and out of breath, he paused and licked away the blood so gently it was here turn to shudder, then put her hands on his shirt so that she could continue to unbutton it. She wondered if it was the blonde or the one with dark red hair who would be having her first. True, the darker haired one had claimed her first, but the blonde didn’t look like he was one to be bossed around, either. Both of them were damn fine looking men, probably a good ten years younger than her, which meant they were twenty years younger than her so-called husband, and she hoped they could at least make her die happy. She hadn’t had good sex in so long she had almost forgotten what good sex was.

  Sure, she’d fooled around from time to time when it benefitted her, but she always found those men left her wanting. Most of them were quick and ended with her not getting any enjoyment out of the ordeal at all. When her hands pushed his shirt open, she felt the hair on his chest, coarse under her fingers, although it was sparse. Without thinking, she tugged at the hair gently and heard him inhale sharply. “What…which one are you? I cannot see you…I want to know…”

  “Should not matter who I am.” He replied, but then pinched her left nipple hard and said, “I am called 1806-2079.”

  “That means nothing. Are you light haired or dark haired?” She asked, and he paused a moment.

  “Dark.” He said, and in an instant he was pulling her up on her knees on the filthy mattress, guiding her hands to his belt, letting them slide across the impressive bulge beneath the material. He had to have the biggest, well, one of those she’d ever felt and she wished she could see it. She had always heard size mattered, now she guessed she would find out if that was true. Her fingers nimbly unfastened his belt and then his pants, which were button-fly. He stopped her from shucking them down too far, instead he moved her hands, indicating she should simply free the enormous organ rather than completely unclothing him.

  She could smell his arousal radiating off of him in waves and, to her shocked surprise could feel her own wetness between her thighs when he stepped closer so that his largeness bumped against her face insistently. The slipperiness she felt coming from her own arousal should have made her ashamed, but as she’d not had good sex in six years all it did was make her feel all the more aroused for the wickedness she was preparing to commit. Opening her mouth, straining her jaw to the point it felt like it tore at the corners, so that she did not scrape him with her teeth, she allowed his thickness to slide between her lips willingly. He cursed in some language she did not know, at least, she assumed it was a curse, then pulled her head back and forth, using a hand wrapped in her long bottle-blonde hair as leverage, not allowing her to do any of the work as if he could not trust her to do it right.

  After a time, when her jaw was hurting so badly she thought it must have been dislocated, he finally shoved her roughly away from him and a second pair of hands caught up her arms, raising her hands much higher to reach his belt. Here, she knew, was the blonde giant, the fucker who had to be about ten feet tall. She could feel his own interest, and it dwarfed the enormous one she’d just had in her mouth, which seemed impossible. This thing would kill her, she could barely get her hand around it when it dropped from his open fly, as he was not wearing underwear, unlike the first man. “Suck.” He said, pulling her head to it. “Suck and do not let teeth brush against it.”

  “That’s…not possible…” Before she could finish her argument, he was pushing past her lips, the size of him making her feel as if her already-sore jaw had indeed dislocated itself.

  He said, “I will fix jaw if it dislocates.” And, she guessed, it was a good thing when she blacked out from choking on his monstrously large member, because she was out cold when he did just that. Still, when she woke up, her jaw was aching like hell, but she was alive, and she could feel the warmth of both of them sandwiching her once more, though they now appeared to be asleep. She had the distinct aftertaste of at least one of them in her mouth, not her favorite thing, and she knew it had been left it there for her when she woke. Remembering the threat that this would be her only beverage, she shuddered and started to try to wriggle out from between them to use the bucket. Unfortunately, they were n
ot sleeping, they had only been lying in wait. Now she felt them both stiffen almost simultaneously, the bigger one behind her, his enormous erection pressing against her back through his pants, which were again buttoned up. She whimpered, afraid to ask permission to relieve herself, lest she be struck for speaking. Luckily, the darker haired one seemed to sense her discomfort and spoke softly to her, releasing her as he did so.

  “Go.” The dark haired one said and the blonde released her immediately, rolling away and vanishing from the bed. In the darkness it was impossible to tell where exactly he had gone. She couldn’t help but wonder if, in the darkness, they could see her even though she was unable to see them.

  Chapter 73

  The very same night after her discussion with Aleksei, as the train rumbled across Romania, Anya slipped stealthily into Yuri’s berth to find him curled in his seat, staring out the window. When he saw her reflection in the glass, he turned looking relieved, but then the misery returned when he saw it was she, not Aleksei, who had disturbed him.

  “You should not be here. Aleksei will hate me even more if he finds you here.” He said, his voice so soft she barely heard it. Not dissuaded by this, she pulled the window blind down, sealing them off from the rest of the train, and locked the cabin door. “Anya…”