Moan

by Kenya Wright

  My bottom lip quivered. I looked at those young people above us again and still couldn’t stomach it. Even though I knew they were eighteen, it didn’t look right. Anyone that needed them to look that childish had a sick and twisted problem. What the hell did that have to do with the Pope and the Vatican? This wasn’t good. And Roman kept referring to hell. What would be more hellish than an evil man sitting at the head of the Catholic faith?

  Though fear quaked through me, I stood my ground. “No, I’m not running.”

  “That’s your second time. Roman wanted you to have three chances.”

  “I’m in.”

  “Do you get how dangerous this is?”

  “Yes. That’s a fucking understatement. This person that we’re discussing is beyond powerful. If I expose him, I would need an exorbitant amount of evidence. And I couldn’t trust anyone.”

  “No one at all. You could die over this. All of us could.” He drew me further into the shadows. “Many have tried to take this one down and are somewhere in the spiritual world, watching down below. Look at Medieval Europe, during those times, the Vatican provided the most vulgar orgies known in history.”

  “I’ve never heard of this.”

  “There are a few dating back. Pope Sergius III had a harem who was a fifteen-year-old girl. Their illegitimate son rose to power as Pope John XI and his successor, John XII, turned the Basilica of Rome into a successful brothel. There are others who’ve supported orgies at the Vatican.”

  “And how did Roman get involved?”

  “He’s a man that does private parties among the most powerful. And. . .” Butter looked away. “I set him and this man up, thinking it wouldn’t be nothing.”

  I knew we’d probably already said too much. But I wanted to yell at him, ‘You didn’t think it would be weird to introduce the Pope’s advisor to the Sex Tycoon of Europe?’ Surely those two things shouldn’t go together.

  And then Roman’s voice sounded in my ear. “He’s coming, Emi. Listen.”

  Rustling came next. A man’s voice rumbled on the other side. “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Meade? I thought we had an understanding.”

  “I couldn’t do what you asked for. This party had too many eyes tonight.”

  The man’s tone darkened. “We’re not pleased.”

  “This couldn’t be helped. Did you want to get caught?” Roman asked. “Besides, I have a way to make it up.”

  “How?”

  “I will hold one of your special parties in your home.”

  “The Vatican. And I thought that you were a careful man, Mr. Mead.”

  “I am. What other place would you be the safest in?”

  “This isn’t what we talked about.”

  “I can have a party for you next week with the exact. . .type of people you want.”

  “Have you found a way to get the kids?”

  “I have. Remember, I’m not a heist guy. I’m just a party planner, but I think I have a way to get my men in the school, grab them, and have them in the Vatican by the night of the party.”

  “Good, Mr. Mead. Show me what you can do because since our partnership, I’ve not been pleased.”

  “This isn’t a partnership. You bullied your way into my business.”

  “Do you need my men?”

  “What?” Roman asked.

  “Do you need me to send men to Indonesia to get the children?”

  “No, I’ve got enough.”

  “Will you be using the Iranian man?”

  “I will.”

  “I’m not comfortable with him.”

  “Butter is fine. He keeps his mouth shut.”

  “Let’s make sure of that. I wouldn’t want to have him taken care of, myself.”

  Butter disrupted my concentration by dragging me away. And then the sounds left my ear.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Somebody’s messing with the connection.” He put his hand in his pocket as if he was touching something. “I heard the same feed you did, but there was a clicking at times. You probably didn’t get it.”

  “No, but I got enough.”

  “We have to go.” He pulled me away, pushing through some of the men and dragging me around other. “Take off your shoes, if you have to.”

  I kicked them off and hurried with him. “What about Roman?”

  “He’ll be fine. Let’s just get out of here. Just in case.” He got us to the door fast.

  A few men glanced at him and me as we rushed, but no one moved. I was glad I had on my mask, but wished Butter had put one on. It didn’t sound like this cardinal liked him.

  We entered the hallway. The door slammed behind us.

  Butter turned from one side and then the next, checking everything out. “This could all be my imagination, but we have to be careful.”

  “What next?”

  “We get you out of here.”

  And then the lights turned off in the hallway. Darkness filled the space around me. I screamed, not being able to see anything, not even a flicker of light or dimly lit shadows. I screamed some more. It couldn’t be helped. After the gross things I’d heard about and witnessed in the room, and realizing what we were up against, I had the willies.

  Butter grabbed me and covered my mouth. Slowly, we inched away in a direction away from the door. We tip toed doing our best to not make a sound. I strained to hear any footsteps or someone breathing around us.

  My damn heart beat so loudly in my ears I almost yelled for it to shut up.

  I trembled against Butter, but kept my mouth shut.

  He took his hand away from my face, but still he drew me in that unseen direction. His words came out low, almost in a whisper. “This is a bad sign.”

  “You think?” I crouched down low as if I would avoid bullets or something. I had no idea what was going to happen to us. Had they spotted us in that crazy room? Had they been on too us the whole time? Were they coming to kill us? What the fuck was going on? Why did they turn off the lights?

  I moved along with him and whispered, “What should we do?”

  “Let’s hurry to the next room.”

  “Fuck that let’s hurry out of here.”

  “Not without getting Roman out of the castle too.”

  I let out a long breath. “You’re right. Okay. Do you know where the other room is?”

  “I think so.”

  We must’ve crouched tip toed in the darkness for several more minutes, before Butter stopped us and said in an exciting voice, “I’ve found a door knob.”

  And then he choked on something and coughed, “Uh!”

  His body crashed into me and dragged me into the floor.

  “Ruuuu!” Butter coughed some more. Something slammed into him, which pushed his body more on me. Someone else was in the hallway. A grunt sounded as Butter coughed some more. “Ruuu!”

  I scrambled from under Butter as him and whoever tussled. Slapping at the air, I felt the pinch of a blade. Pain bit at my finger, but I still punched at the air.

  “Run, Emily.”

  Shaking, I jumped up, slipped my hands along the wall, found the door, and opened it fast. White light spilled into the hallway. I’d thought it only been one man. I was wrong. Three men stood in the hallway with tech masks on their face. It must’ve been some sort of apparatus to see in the dark. One held a large knife. Blood dripped from the blade. Another lifted Butter’s trembling body up. The third guy turned my way and smiled at me.

  “Run!” Butter screamed, right as the door slammed close.

  CHAPTER 12

  Roman

  Will Emi help us?

  After the conversation with the devil, I wanted to take a shower.

  I always felt that way after talking to Cardinal Valenza. He represented the poorest evil to me. Butter had introduced us and I’d figured that the devil would just want some secret sex parties for his men. I had no problem with organized religion. I just didn’t think that people should limit their sexuality due to their
spirituality. I wasn’t thinking about the perversions of mankind. I only thought the Cardinal needed to get laid, and didn’t have a problem with setting some discrete events up for him that would allow all of them to practice their beliefs, but still feed their healthy, sexual appetites.

  But at the first meeting, I realized that the Cardinal had darker desires. He craved things that I didn’t touch—children. Too young to even have gone through puberty. I did my best to compromise and searched the planet for young women over eighteen that looked adolescent. It was hard as hell, and still, by the next party his men and him were still not happy. It wasn’t enough for the women to resemble kids. The Cardinal actually had to have a child.

  I washed my hands of him then, refusing to work with his group anymore. Then things really changed. When I tried to hold parties for others, I was unable to buy or rent properties. Guests were told not to come. No one said who called them, they were too scared out of their minds to ever mess with me again.

  For three months, I had no events, bookings, or anyone that would even pick up the phone when I called. At the end of that period, the devil called.

  The devil had humor in his voice. “I’ve heard that you have had difficulties with your business.”

  “And you’re calling to give me help?”

  “Of course.”

  I gripped the phone hard. “And what do you want?”

  “It’s not what I want. It’s what will happen. From now on, we’re business partners, Mr. Meade.”

  “I don’t need a partner.”

  “You’ve been blocked from having a party in most cities, but countries. I’ve managed to stop you in Paris, Los Angeles, Amsterdam, etc. At this rate, you won’t even be able to escape to some third world country in Africa. My power extends everywhere.”

  “My parties deal with adults that give their full permission to engage in my parities’ activities. What you want me to do is host rape and pedophilia events.”

  “I have the location of the school.”

  “What?”

  “There is a school that I just visited. I was asked to pray over the property at the opening. There were some really beautiful children there. They will be the entertainment for our first party.”

  I hung up.

  He never stopped calling. By the fourth month, I was damn close to sleeping on my uncle’s couch again. I returned to Butter and explained the whole situation. I’d decided that if I had to be broke, then that would be fine. But then Butter convinced me not to give up. There was one thing I’d never considered with the devil. If I didn’t give in and do what he wanted, then he would just find someone else to do it. Either way, that school was at risk, whether I gave up or not. So I couldn’t let it all go. I had to deal with the devil and figure out a way to bring him down. Never a gangster or killer, I thought of Emi as a path to solving the whole situation. Let the world know about the Cardinal.

  Emi came to mind, because I couldn’t think of anyone else that would be so bold to take such a powerful man on. Yet, fear made me wonder, if it was the right thing to do. A wicked man like the Cardinal, didn’t get into his position by not protecting himself.

  By the fifth month, I’d realized that I was being monitored. Butter had found a camera in my ceilings and someone had tapped my cellphone. My friend replaced the phone. That was the only way we could communicate and not worry about others listening.

  By the sixth month, Butter and I came up with the plan to take him down. In front of the cameras, we pretended to not notice we were being watched. When we could, we snuck away and put our details together.

  Did it work? Did Emi hear and understand what’s going on? Is she going to help or is she afraid? And what about the other stuff?

  Crazy or not, my body still hummed with her sexual energy. Her scent remained all over my skin. Even with all the sick shit happening around us, I couldn’t wait to get my hands back on her. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking that. In fact, that night wasn’t the moment to continue more sex. We had to focus and get rid of the Cardinal.

  Where are they?

  Heading to the fifth room, I dialed Butter again. Still no answer. Since leaving the devil, I’d been trying to meet back up with Emi and him. There’d been no response. My gut knotted into worry. Something was wrong.

  What’s going on? What are you two doing?

  The hallway was empty and a cold chill ran through the air.

  Did you take her into the other room, Butter? Why aren’t you answering?

  I opened the door to the fifth room.

  Brown animal fur decorated all of the walls. Leather covered the ceiling. Instead of chandeliers, crystal orbs dangled from the ceiling. Each orb held an electric candle that looked like they held real flames. In the air, the fragrance of fine wine mingled with perfumed nude bodies and the savory aroma of roasted meats. Almost everyone in the room wore no clothes. Most kept their masks on. Naked performers dancing around the room, appearing more in a trance as they twisted and turned. White-robed servants poured wine and served huge platters of food to guests.

  A small jazz band played on stage. Large beds outlined the walls. Soft fur blankets covered them. Already couples had filled the beds. Mattresses bounced. Men pumped and women shrieked in pleasure, their breasts bobbing to the jazz melody. I bet more than eighty percent didn’t even know who they were sleeping with. One could do whatever they wanted while hidden behind a mask. Most took advantage of that as much as possible.

  In the center of the room, tons of naked women lined up in front of the whipping stations.

  Every few seconds, masked men rose their small whips in the air and placed red marks on lovely bare bottoms.

  Are they in here? Emi? Butter? Where are you?

  I’d designed this room after the feast of Lupercalia. Meant for a day of fertility and love, the Ancient Romans celebrated this from February thirteenth to the fifteenth, sacrificing goats and dogs, and whipping nude women with the hides of those animals they’d just killed. Sounded crazy, but the women believed that it would make them fertile, so many lined up, naked, and ready to be whipped.

  I’d found the festival while researching Valentine’s Day. Originally, I’d assumed the holiday derived from love and joyful feelings. Apparently, two men were executed on February fourteenth on different years, but both had the last name Valentine. The Catholic church prophesied that they were martyrs and honored the men on that day calling it St. Valentine’s Day. By the 5th century, some Pope decided to get rid of as many pagan rituals as possible. He combined St. Valentine’s Day and Lupercalia.

  I gestured to a white-robed servant as he hurried by.

  The small man turned around and came to me. “Sir?”

  “I’m looking for a particular woman. She’s wearing a blue dress, very form fitting and elegant. Kind of like a mermaid. Her mask is similar to a swan—”

  “Black woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “There was one crying on an empty bed. When I came over to her, she jumped and ran out of here.”

  “Fuck. Where do you think she went?”

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Fuck.” I rushed out of there, racing by naked women being whipped and couples fucking on the bed.

  Crying? Why was she crying? Where the hell was Butter at? What the fuck is going on?

  I got out of there and went to the sixth room. Frantic, I barely paid attention to the designs. Although I enjoyed marveling at my work, Emi stayed on my mind. Like a crazy person, I rushed through the sixth space, scanning everyone’s faces and bothering the staff. No one had spotted a woman like her.

  Fuck! Where are you?

  I raced into the others —seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth. Nothing. All I saw was sex in more unique ways. Masks and costumes of many colors and creations. Rooms that hit the mark on my imagination or ones that fell short. People laughed. Others cried. Most moaned, while many came hard in front of everyone.

  The wh
ole time I didn’t see Emi, and Butter had never called.

  It was then that I realized something had gone very wrong. I raced through the hallway, returning to the earlier rooms and driving myself even more crazy. Why hadn’t we thought up a way to get in contact with each other, if one of us got lost?

  We didn’t think anyone would get lost? I was supposed to stay with Emi most of the time, and leave her for a few minutes to talk to the devil.

  They weren’t in the earlier rooms either. Unfortunately, I had to go through the fourth room again and bump into the devil, who lounged on one of the skull thrones as two young looking boys made out in front of him. A frown covered his face as he nodded at me.

  Maybe they went back to my office? Does that make sense? If they’re not there, then maybe he got her out of the castle. I’ll have to check that next.

  Just as I got ready to leave the fourth room, the devil gestured for me to come to him.

  What the hell does he want?

  I dragged myself to his throne. It could’ve just been my imagination, but a sick smell reeked from him. Thankfully the mask covered his ugly, wrinkled face.

  I leaned his way. “Yes?”

  “We’ve decided that your partnership with Mr. Omid is done.”

  “What does that mean?” I said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not sure if you take us seriously.” He moved closer to me, pushing that ugly mask forward. “This is the second time you’ve disappointed me. I had to send you a message.”

  “Where’s Butter?”

  The devil made a cross in front of his mask. “May he rest in peace.”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Meade.”

  Rage slammed into my chest. My heart broke. I fisted my hands and spat at him, “Why did you kill him? You didn’t have to do anything to him.”

  “I didn’t think you understood how serious we were. Besides, he made me uncomfortable. He also has a bad habit of hacking into things that he shouldn’t.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “You killed him?”