Spectre of Chaos

by Simon Harrak

  The elevator door opened and in came the sound of chatter and music. Ida turned around and put on her best smile, walking directly into the open-air party. The group closest to her stopped their conversation and began looking her up and down before smiling and resuming their conversation while taking sips of their champagne. Ida continued moving through the crowd, getting stares from almost everyone. Immediately she felt out of place. Everybody was stunningly dressed. The men had their hair trimmed and styled, and their tuxedos were a perfect fit. The attractiveness level of the women was off the scale. Many of them were almost certainly models; gorgeous with flawless, glowing skin, long legs and impeccable posture. Most faces which looked critically at Ida were either beautiful or had been made beautiful by a surgeon. Their expressions asked the question loud and clear: ‘Who is this strange girl, and what is she doing here?’

  Tiny Christmas lights hung above in a criss-cross fashion. There were randomly spread cocktail tables draped in white sheets, and at the far end was a band playing classical music on a small stage beside the bar. A waiter approached and offered Ida champagne, which she accepted. Standing in the middle, she realised, made her a target for attention. Everywhere she looked, eyes were pointed her way. Her body was preparing to scramble to a less exposed location but she held herself firm, even though her fingers were jittering from nervousness.

  “Ida!” came a voice from the side.

  Tina emerged from the crowd holding a champagne glass while walking confidently toward Ida. She had on a sparkling grey dress which continued up over her chest and wrapped around her shoulders, revealing the side of her breasts. Splits ran along both sides and made visible her fit body. As always she was wearing stilettos, which added to her already impressive height and gave her a majestic walk. With her long diamond earrings and pink lipstick she could have been straight from a movie.

  “Ida, nice to see you,” said Tina, smiling and reaching forward to hug her with one arm.

  “You look amazing,” said Ida, blinking multiple times and looking Tina up and down.

  “Me?” said Tina, shaking her head. “Look at you!” she added, her face lighting up. “I knew Claire could do it. You look unbelievable!”

  A smile found its way to Ida’s face.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Tina paid close attention to Ida’s mouth with a concerned look.

  “What?” said Ida, raising her hand to her face.

  “Oh, you’ve got a bit of extra lipstick there,” said Tina, taking Ida by the hand and leading her to the side.

  Tina leaned forward and inspected Ida’s mouth before rubbing the side of Ida’s lip with her knuckle.

  “There, that’s better,” she said, smiling and nodding with satisfaction.

  “Oh, that was silly of me. I didn’t check it before I left,” said Ida, remembering the moment she had been distracted by the news story.

  “Don’t worry. Come, I’ll introduce you to some people.”

  Tina took Ida’s hand and led her through the party crowd, drawing stares like magnets passing through shards of metal.

  “Ladies, meet Ida,” said Tina upon approaching two young women standing side by side, both holding their champagne glasses.

  “Hi, Ida,” said one young woman without any expression while waving her hand across her body. She had dark makeup, long, shiny straight blonde hair that ran down her back and a tall, skinny body.

  “Hello, Ida,” said the other woman with a smile, a brunette version of the first woman.

  “This is Sophie,” said Tina, pointing to the blonde woman who now had her attention somewhere else. “And this is Claudia,” she said, pointing to the brunette. “They’re both represented by an agency here in Paris.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Ida, unsurprised that they were models.

  “Remember this face,” said Tina, signalling toward Ida. “She might be designing your outfits in the future.”

  “Really?” said Claudia with her French accent. “That is so wonderful. We need more young designers, especially women.”

  “Ida brings something new to the table. She designs specifically for the empowered woman.”

  “Wonderful! Then she is with good company,” said Claudia, signalling toward Tina.

  “That’s right,” said Tina, grabbing Ida’s hand and dragging her away. “We’ll be right back, ladies.”

  As the two of them walked along, still drawing ample attention, Tina leaned in close to Ida.

  “You see all these wandering eyes?” said Tina. “Most women have no idea what to do with this kind of power. Having every man wanting to fuck you, and every woman wanting to secretly destroy you can make life complicated. If you’re not careful, it can end your career before it begins. But if you learn how to use it to your advantage, you can go as far as you want.”

  Ida gave Tina a tight smile and gulped.

  “What did you think of Claudia and Sophie?” asked Tina.

  “They seemed nice, and they’re beautiful,” said Ida.

  “They hated you,” said Tina sharply. “Both of them.”

  Ida flinched and turned toward Tina with a look of disbelief.

  “You’re a threat to them,” said Tina. “Well, not yet. But you could be. And because you’ve stolen my attention, they hate you more.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s not your fault, don’t worry,” said Tina. “It’s nothing you can control. You have to get used to it. Even the men who want to sleep with you hate you. They only hide it until they get what they want. And if they don’t get what they want, you can bet your life they’ll show it to you then.”

  “Is that how it is here?” said Ida.

  “Of course,” said Tina. “But like I told you, you learn to relish it.”

  They approached the bar and Tina took Ida’s half-full glass from her and laid it down.

  “Two sidecars,” said Tina to the bartender before turning to Ida. “Let’s stay here for a while.”

  “Ok,” said Ida.

  Minutes later they had their cocktails in hand, complete with a slice of orange wedged along the tip. They stood in front of the bar taking sips and inspecting the scene around them.

  “Look, there,” said Tina, pointing toward a young man in a tuxedo standing among a group of four beautiful women. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  He was looking directly at Ida, making no attempt to conceal it. He had light brown hair combed upwards and slightly to the side and a stubbly beard which accentuated his jawline. Through a squint his light blue eyes shone through. Without warning he broke away from his female companions and walked in Ida and Tina’s direction.

  “Get ready,” whispered Tina.

  Oh, no. Don’t come here. Ida got butterflies in her belly, and tried to contain her nerves as he came near.

  “You look stunning this evening,” he said on approach, his full attention on Ida.

  The eye contact was too much, and Ida looked away briefly before looking back and smiling.

  “Terence,” he said, reaching out his hand.

  Ida was about to reciprocate and tell him her name, before remembering what Tina had told her earlier.

  “What can I do for you, Terence?” she found herself saying.

  Terence raised his eyebrows high, his hand still reached out. Ida ignored it and reached forward and rubbed on his jacket collar.

  “Nice tuxedo,” she said.

  Terence gave Tina a bewildered looked, to which she offered no help, only shrugging and smiling.

  “Thanks,” he said. “So I don’t get a name?”

  “Not yet,” said Ida, now feeling much more confident maintaining deep eye contact, knowing Tina was standing beside her.

  A smile betrayed Terence and he shook his head while biting his lip.

  “I won’t bullshit you,” he said. “Now I’m twice as intrigued.”

  “I’m glad you’re not going to bullshit me,” said Ida. “If you do, then you’ll never
get that name. Or anything else.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, narrowing his gaze and turning serious, even appearing vulnerable for a split second. “I’m going to return to my friends. I have no doubt we’ll run into each other again tonight.”

  “If it’s meant to be, then sure,” said Ida.

  He nodded, almost chuckling.

  “See you soon,” he said.

  “I look forward to it,” said Ida.

  Terence turned around and rejoined his group, who enthusiastically welcomed him back while glancing curiously in Ida and Tina’s direction.

  Tina said nothing, only squeezed her nose up and stared expectantly at Ida.

  “He was cute,” said Ida, her face remaining stone cold.

  Tina snickered and shook her head in disbelief.

  “Well done,” she said with an earnest expression. “Well done.”

  “Thank you,” said Ida, a sly smirk on her face, having enjoyed the rush of the encounter.

  “Let’s go for another wander, shall we?” said Tina. “See how many more hearts you can break.”

  “Sounds fun,” said Ida with a nod, once again following Tina’s lead.

  The place was crawling, with people laughing in fits, yelling over each other, migrating around the room with beers pressed close to their bodies. At one point there was a collective scream, with a group scrambling in various directions as a cup full of beer flew into the air. Deciphering what was happening inside the Stern and Dolly was going to be tough, figured Frederich, especially from across the road while sitting in his car.

  It was a chilly evening, and the street remained as quiet as a suburban street should in the middle of the week. The cold had seeped into the cabin of the car over the passing hours and was working its way through Frederich’s feet and fingers. It did little to distract him. He understood the scope of the challenge which awaited him.

  Bibby, Dikka, Pistol, Faust and Vent; all five were at the Stern and Dolly for the second straight night with no apparent hit jobs to keep them busy. Bibby was by far the loudest and most animated, commanding attention with his sheer size. Faust the boxer stood close to a young woman in a tight white singlet, the two of them talking intimately into each other’s ears. The more they drank, the more enthusiastically the woman laughed and laid hands on Faust. At one point they disappeared into the crowd and did not appear again. At 10:41 pm Vent came outside to take a phone call, standing away from the pub by the side of the road before going back inside. The call did not seem urgent. Frederich waited and watched, keenly aware of the deadline. The longer Vent and his friends remained in there, the more the risk increased. To Frederich’s relief, he got a break at 12:13 am. Dikka, Pistol, Faust and Vent came bursting through the door, swaying here and there, obviously under the influence of Liam the bartender’s booze. Bibby was missing, and it was almost four hours until deadline. Frederich thought for a moment, then decided to follow them by foot. He would discreetly deal with these guys then get back to Bibby. In any case, better four out of five than none, he figured.

  He exited the car and locked it then crossed the road, passing the Stern and Dolly and following the four men while maintaining a safe distance. They led him to the end of the street then turned right, followed the road for a while then went left. Pistol’s street. As Frederich had predicted, Pistol hugged and bumped fists with each of his friends then stumbled onto his yard, heading toward his front door while the rest continued down the path. Frederich rushed forward. He neared Pistol’s front yard and crept over the grass with his breath held. The hunting knife was already in his hand. Pistol was at the front door with his hand in his pocket, digging for his keys while brushing his hair back. Frederich sped up once he left the grass, scurrying over the concrete. Pistol had barely begun turning around when Frederich snatched a handful of his hair and pulled his head back with one hard jolt, before slicing his neck open with the hunting knife. Pistol’s reflexes were as slow as Frederich had imagined them to be, having smelt the stench of beer on him from metres away. Frederich remained standing there as Pistol tumbled to the ground, with only the sound of him gasping and groaning for his life in the darkness. Pistol’s struggle for survival gradually died down until the night-time silence returned.

  Frederich took off immediately, holding the bloody knife backwards and tucking it along his forearm as he sprinted again over the yard and back in the direction of the remaining three men. At the end of Pistol’s street was a T-intersection. Left or right? He relied on his ears, hearing the faint sound of a man raising his voice to the right. The bending road kept the men out of sight until Frederich came around and caught a glimpse of them turning into an open space between two houses. He accelerated to catch up, appearing at the corner where the men had previously been and finding them crossing through a park. It was high risk, but if he pulled it off he would avoid the chance of things getting complicated later if they split up. He took a couple of deep calming breaths and pulled the stun gun out of his inside jacket pocket and moved forward. Dikka trailed the group and was the first to hear Frederich approach.

  “What the fuck?” he blurted as he saw Frederich approach, his shaved head pulling backwards in surprise and his huge eyes lighting up in the night.

  Dikka’s hearing was sharp, but his reflexes were terrible. Alcohol again proved a deciding factor. Before Dikka could react, Frederich punched the stun gun into his hip, and within seconds had forced him to ground. Vent’s reflexes worked quicker than his friend’s, and almost immediately he sprinted away. Frederich dropped the stun gun and flipped the hunting knife around so it was straight in his hand. He reached back and flung it forward, hitting Vent between the shoulder blades. Vent grunted loudly and fell to the ground, the knife wedged in his back. Meanwhile, Faust came forward in a boxing stance and sent a right hook at Frederich’s head. Frederich dodged it and scrambled to the side to create space. Faust came at him again with two jabs, which Frederich fended off with his arms raised to protect his face. When the right hook returned he ducked it while knowing the fight was already over. It seemed Faust had assumed they were sticking to boxing rules. Frederich had no code of honour guiding him. He only cared about his deadline. With Faust off-balance, Frederich rose up and kneed him in the balls, then hit him with a mighty hook.

  There was no time to survey the fallout or think. Terminate and conceal. Frederich went over to Vent, who was grunting and scrambling across the grass on his stomach in obvious pain. He took the knife out of Vent’s back and slit his throat. Dikka was laying on his side, still crippled by the stun gun, before Frederich also slit his throat. Faust was on his knees, struggling to get back up. Frederich picked up the stun gun and gave him a second jolt for good measure before dealing him the same fate as Dikka and Vent.

  A bright light approached when a car passed by along the street, oblivious to the slaughter taking place in the shadows. Darkness was Frederich’s ally as he dragged each of the bodies behind the bushes by the fence, confident they would remain hidden until morning. He wiped the blade of his knife clean on the grass then packed it inside his jacket along with his stun gun before making back for the Stern and Dolly.

  “What the hell was taking them so long?” thought Vidrik as he pushed the stairway door open and went up to the rooftop. Radara was toying with him, he decided, taking her sweet time and enjoying herself while he festered and waited.

  He climbed the final step then stopped just behind the door, carefully pulling down on the handle and pushing it open a crack. A pair of large pot plants concealed the entrance to the stairs and blocked Vidrik’s line of sight. He slowly worked the door open and emerged onto the terrace and crept to a position behind the bushes. He shook his head disapprovingly as he studied the buffoons in tuxedos trying to impress a bunch of hussies with short skirts and fake tits.

  “Where are you, my little princess?” he whispered to himself, carefully inspecting each woman.

  No sign of them. He paused before slowly emerging fro
m behind the plants to widen his angle of view. A sudden jolt shot through him. He focussed his eyes and took her in, feeling ripples of pleasure below his belly button. Her dress stopped just above her knees, and her ass looked marvellous and supple as she stretched the material with her movements. He zoned out for a moment looking at her chest then continued upwards to her face. She looked poised, laughing and confidently waving her arm around as she spoke, capturing the attention of everyone listening to her. Radara was having quite the influence on her, it seemed. Or was it the alcohol?

  First Vidrik thought it was just him, but when he rechecked the surroundings he saw at least a dozen eyes pointed in Ida’s direction. He was not at all surprised; he had known her potential from the beginning. He felt incredibly alive and light on his feet, his skin tingling all over. The colours around him grew bright and vibrant. The sound of chatter and music rushed in and filled his ears as though he were hearing it for the first time, while the influx of energy pulsing through his body threatened to overwhelm him. What was going on? Then he made the connection. He took hold of his smartphone and snapped a photo of her — for later. Her posture, her smile, the way she was glowing. It was pure perfection.

  “There you are, my queen,” he whispered to himself.

  “Lace is like icing on a cake. You need to use just the right amount,” said Ida, squinting one eye and signalling a tiny amount with her thumb and index finger.

  “Are you sure you’re talking about icing?” said another woman, mimicking Ida’s hand expression and causing the entire group to break out into laughter.

  “I agree,” said Claudia with a thoughtful nod when the fever died down. “I have always felt this.”