The Voss Coin

by A B Alexander

  “Go big or go home!” the Buddha monk cheered. They downed another glass. Kevin’s pupils were so dilated he looked like an owl.

  “You spoke about reaching Nirvana through enlightenment, well guess what, I’ve reached it tonight. No bullshit,” Kevin jeered him.

  The Buddha monk put his arm around his shoulder, “Come with me, my dear friend, let me show you the games room.”

  They squeezed through the seductive writhing bodies on the dance floor and proceeded toward the cornered off corridor. Another doorman of colossal proportions blocked the entrance.

  “Does pleasure have a name?” he said in a deep bass-like voice.

  “Checkmate,” answered the Buddha Monk.

  The mountain stepped aside. The long corridor was illuminated by neon red lights, hinting at the sultry pleasures that lay beyond. At the end of the reddish tunnel, they reached a transparent, double-glazed, automatic-glass sliding door. Above it hung a single traffic light, glowing red.

  “Beyond this door is a platform of rotating rooms. Each time you press the blue button on the wall to your right, the platform will rotate and a new room will be displayed. If the light above the door turns green, it means that you’re welcome to join the action. Just press the yellow button below the blue one and the glass door will open. If it’s red you’re not welcome and must respect the privacy of the people inside. Are you ready?”

  Kevin smiled cheekily and pressed the blue button.

  Instantly, he heard the platform twisting and churning. The blackness beyond the glass replaced by a swanky bedroom with purple tones. The light above the door turned green. On the bed, two North African studs were servicing five women between them. The glass door seemed completely soundproof, the women were visibly panting wildly. Kevin quickly pressed the blue button again, the site of the BBC’s scared the hell out of him. The platform swiftly rotated again, revealing a dimly lit room with a red velvet couch in the center. A smartly dressed man in his late fifties sat upright, his pants drooped around his ankles, while a young eastern-European woman grinded his lap energetically, her pleated skirt bouncing up and down against her semi-exposed bottom. Kevin looked at the Buddha Monk, shrugged his shoulders, and pressed the blue button again. The platform shifted steadily, revealing the next room.

  Kevin’s eyes were instinctively drawn to the pearl-lace G-string on the wooden floor. To its right lay a white dress, strikingly similar to the one that Lucy wore that evening. He looked up, the entire scene struck him in the face like a head-on collision. The room, an almost identical replica of his bedroom at home. Even the hardwood flooring seemed the same shade. On his bed, a curvaceous blonde with a perfectly supple ass, passionately straddled a man. Kevin pressed his face up against the glass, from behind he was dead certain it was Lucy.

  Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of the man’s face.

  Jesus Christ, could it really be him?

  The man had an uncanny resemblance to Steven, Lucy’s long time ex-boyfriend.

  He looked up, the light was red.

  He turned to the Buddha monk and shouted, “What the fuck is this?”

  He smashed the yellow button, nothing. He punched the glass full-force with his fist, banging wildly.

  “Lucy, for fuck’s sake, what is this?”

  The door wouldn’t budge, and the woman continued to ride unperturbed. He stepped back clutching his pained fist, the red light burning like a hot iron in his pupils. The Buddha monk pressed the blue button and hugged him.

  “Relax, my friend, you’re hallucinating. I don’t know what you saw, and I’m sure it’s bad, but it ain’t real. So get a fucking grip on yourself. Look at my eyes, strong-minded, right?”

  Kevin nodded, panting heavily.

  He’s right, this can’t be possible. I’m just totally rat-assed.

  The platform twisted again, quickly revealing the next room. The light turned green. The room was totally empty besides a small futon resting on a tatami-matted floor, its walls made up of fusuma-style doors. The Japanese decor was virtually identical to his temple room, even the meager futon was the same color. In the middle of the room stood a Japanese woman in a white kimono. She stared at him through the glass door.

  The moment their eyes met, he was flooded with memories of their time in the temple. Immediately, he slammed the yellow button and the door gave way. He stepped gently onto the matted floor, measuring each step, gliding toward her, drawn like a zombie to its next victim. She stood absolutely still, not shifting her admiring gaze for a moment. He neared her and held both her warm delicate hands, “I can’t believe it, Utsukushii, what’re you doing here?” Tears welled up in her large oval-brown eyes.

  “They let mi liyvv to kum and see yuuu. Yuuu kiip yuu promiz. I here bekoz ov yo.”

  She pulled her hands away and slowly reached for the silky sash. She seductively untied the robe, letting it fall onto the mat. He admired her naked body. Long erect nipples, perched upon sizeable rounded breasts. Her vagina had no more than some little turf at the top, like a well-groomed moustache. There was no hint of labia, just a tiny paper slit.

  “What’s going on here? Please tell me what’s happening to me?” he stammered.

  “Shhh,” she put her finger on his lips with an inviting look.

  “Evuurything iz OK, I noo want to tolk nouw. I waided for dis moment a loong timme.” She dragged him by the hand toward the futon and lay down on all fours, her gleaming pussy ready for the taking. He couldn’t resist her anymore, definitely not in this state. In one motion, he dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles. His cock was so hard that he felt his skin stretch. He slipped his manhood inside her pussy. It was warm, wet, and perfectly receptive. It felt like wet silk, not slimy. She moaned wildly, “Ohhhh yess fuck me.” She was so wet, it was drooling down her legs. He tapped her pussy in her full force, like a breeding lion, sweating profusely, drops from his forehead dripping onto her ass. He felt alive, crazy, wild, and extremely intoxicated. His morals had escaped him the moment he was injected with liquid cocaine. He grabbed her by the hips and thrust away in quick aggressive motions. He fucked her harder than she had been fucked in the temple. In less than ten thrusts, she screamed out “Ohhhhh Kevin I’m, yeeesssssss,”

  He could feel her soaked inner thighs shaking uncontrollably.

  Fast orgasm, no cunnilingus, this one is a keeper.

  He kept pumping away brutishly, groaning like a beast. He had the confidence and strength of Khal Drogo. A few thrusts later he exploded inside her.

  She climbed on top of him and they kissed passionately, “Dhank yuu,” she said lovingly. Immediately, she stood up and quickly put on her robe. She left the room through the glass door without saying another word. He lay on the futon in a semi-shocked state, soaked in sweat and still panting heavily. He was dazed, the drugs and hard sex had taken their toll. He needed answers.

  Where did the bitch go?

  He quickly slid on his pants and buttoned his shirt. He pressed the yellow button and the glass door slid open. He stumbled through the nightclub, spilling a few drinks along the way. A tall redhead grabbed his crotch as he squeezed through the bubbling crowd. He slapped her arm away, feeling drained. He finally reached the VIP section and saw the Buddha monk with a petite blonde on his knee and a whiskey in his hand. He was smiling like Charlie in the chocolate factory.

  Kevin strode purposefully toward him.

  I need to know what the hell just happened. I’m going to get answers no matter what.

  The Buddha monk noticed Kevin approaching and stood up to greet him with open arms. He laughed heartily, his chubby cheeks bouncing like jelly. From the edge of his vision, Kevin noticed the gunman. It happened in a flash. His face was concealed by a Guy Fawkes mask. He outstretched his gloved right hand, revealing a shiny Glock.

  “They’re Et Decem th--” screamed the Buddha monk.

  BANG BANG BANG BANG, the shots rang out, smothering his words in mid-air. The stream of bullets cut through his e
xcessively fatty flesh like an axe through a tree-trunk. Blood sprayed everywhere, the petite blonde shrieked out in horror. She looked like a busty vamp. People started running and screaming in all directions. Kevin instinctively dropped to the floor and crawled through the crowd. He feared the shooter was coming for him. There was nothing he could do for the Buddha monk. He counted at least four shots fired in his upper midriff, he was probably dead before he even hit the floor. He crawled through the broken glass and scattered cigarette butts. In the far-right corner, a metal door was illuminated as the designated emergency exit. The crowd spilled through the door, a human tsunami. He stood up and began to push his way through the semi-naked bodies. All around him people were sobbing or screaming in panic. Eventually, he burst onto the side street. The cold, clean air intensified his panic. He ran as hard as he could, his apartment was just over three miles away.

  15

  Revelations

  He arrived home a total mess. He quietly entered the apartment and headed for the fridge. He reached for a cold Powerade and drank ravenously. He was coming down hard from the cocaine, burnt out like a Formula One tire after a long race. The isotonic drink’s high salt content would help him replenish. The shooting in the club flashed through his mind.

  “Et Decem,” what did the Buddha monk mean? He tried to warn me at the last second. That’s who is after me.

  He picked up a small iPad that was resting on the kitchen counter and Googled it. Its English to Latin translation meant The Ten. But there was nothing more.

  He finished his drink, threw the empty bottle in the bin, and made his way to the bedroom. Lucy was already home and sound asleep, her red toenails peeking out from under the duvet. The flashbacks of the rotating room disgusted him. He doubted that he had hallucinated too such an extent, it seemed so real. Utsukushii was there and he fucked her, that was a definite. That aspect alone was strange enough, and he was suspicious of everybody, including his own mind. He climbed into the white marble shower, washing away all the grime from his soul. The longer he showered, the more he felt he couldn’t rid himself of the dirt.

  This is a special kind of dirty, the guilty type, and it doesn’t wash off the conscience so easily.

  By the time he hobbled into bed, the night’s events blurred into a dream.

  “Kevin, where the hell were you last night?” Lucy startled him awake in a fit of rage. “I tried calling you like thirty times and your phone was switched off.”

  Kevin shot upright.

  Shit, my phone and wallet are at the club.

  “I went back to the office, something important came up. Where the hell were you, Lus?” He deliberately analyzed her reaction.

  “I told you I was going out with the Jess. We had dinner at Giovanni’s and I came home. Why’re you acting weird?” She was wide eyed and fuming.

  “Are you in contact with Steven?” he asked her blankly.

  Her forehead creased and her mouth gaped in disbelief. “What does he have to do with anything? He writes me on the holidays, to wish us well. Nothing more. We’ve already spoken about this. You know how guilty I felt after our breakup.”

  “Lucy, tell me the fucking truth; did you go to a club last night?” The rage building up in his mind was overwhelming, a volcano on the verge of eruption, stifling any rational thought.

  She shook her head and pursed her lips. “No, I didn’t, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Kevin jumped up from the bed. He was no body language expert, but her reaction had all the tell-tale signs of a liar. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tell me the fucking truth, what the hell is going on?”

  She stared at him in shock, his reaction was out of character. She burst out crying. “What’s happened to you? I’m not lying, I swear to God. What is wrong with you, ever since you came back from Japan you’ve been acting weird. Leave me alone.”

  She collapsed into the pillow, bawling. He watched her cry. He was numb, emotionless, like anesthetic had been applied to his soul. He walked out the room leaving her in tears. He hoped to God that he was wrong but he didn’t trust anybody anymore. Drugs or no drugs, he enjoyed last night’s meaningless sex with Utsukushii. He had no doubt, if it was indeed Lucy that he saw, she enjoyed it as well.

  He quickly got dressed and headed out the door. In the street he hailed a yellow cab. He had to get back to the club fast. While he drove through the streets of Manhattan, he thought about the Buddha monk.

  We had mutual respect and reached an understanding. He was my only personal connection to the Et Decem, if that’s even their name. Why would they murder him? We’d have worked well together. It doesn’t make sense. Also, the Buddha monk’s sudden visit didn’t fit either. John was already cooperating, what was the point in kidnapping his wife and threatening him?

  The Mexican cab driver interrupted Kevin’s introspection.

  “We’re here, señor. That’ll be thirty bucks.”

  Kevin looked out the window, recognizing the meatpacking plant. He slipped the driver a hundred-dollar bill.

  “Wait for me. Five minutes. I need you to drop me off at the financial district.”

  The Taxi driver grinned. “Gracias, no problem, señor. Take your time, I’ll wait for you here.”

  Kevin dashed into the abattoir. He ran through the entrance but instantly hesitated. The place looked starkly different. The rusted machines were replaced with large aluminum conveyor belts transporting chunks of butchered meat. Over 500 freshly slaughtered cows hung from the ceiling. Over thirty butchers were hard at hard work deboning and weighing the meat. He glanced outside at the street.

  This is the place, for sure.

  Approaching one of the elderly butchers he said, “Hi, how are you? Did you guys move in this morning?”

  The butcher paused his work, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “No, sir, we been working right here for fifty years,” he quipped in a Southern drawl.

  Kevin wasn’t convinced.

  “I see you’re not from New York?”

  The butcher smiled. “No, siree, I’m born and bred in Alabama. Moved to New York in search of work when I was a young man.”

  There was nothing more this man could tell him. He thanked him for the help and went in search of the entrance to the club. He recalled it being in the end section of the plant. He pushed aside the hanging carcasses of beef and pork, making his way toward the stainless-steel door.

  He reached it exactly in the place he expected to find it. He banged three times in the same fashion as the previous night. After a few seconds, the door jolted open and a gust of icy sub-zero air numbed his face. A young tattooed man wearing a heavy apron, non-slip boots and cut-resistant gloves greeted him.

  “Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

  Kevin stepped inside the room. It operated as a freezer, lined with junks of frozen meat on each side.

  He stammered, “Hi, I think I left my phone and wallet somewhere here.” He brushed aside some of the frozen carcasses in search of the area where the reception was located. There was nothing but white-tiled walls.

  The young man laughed, “Let me guess, a little piggy ate your phone and wallet.” Kevin chuckled sheepishly, uncomfortable by the absurdity of the situation. He found nothing and promptly exited the plant.

  “Let’s go fast, amigo.” He guided the Mexican driver to the Intelias offices.

  Fifteen minutes later he was at his desk. He placed his elbows on the smooth wooden surface and held his face in his palms.

  It’s a fucking disaster, what is happening to me? Was last night even real? Maybe I’m losing my mind and Lucy is right.

  The physical effects of the drugs had completely worn off; emotionally he still felt like a sack of shit. He straightened and powered up his grey MacBook. He scrolled through the Safari browser searching any news regarding last night’s shooting. He found nothing.

  It’s not possible that a shooting in a downtown nightclub doesn’t come up online.

  He sud
denly heard a faint Rrinnnggg Rrinnggg. It sounded exactly like his mobile. He leapt from his chair and paced frantically in search of the sound. It seemed to be coming from somewhere near his desk. He slid open the cabinet drawer and there it was. Ringing and flashing in all its glory. It lay symmetrically placed on top of his classic black bifold wallet. The exact way he used to leave it on his desk. Wallet first and then phone on top, dead center. It was as if he’d left it there himself.

  But I fucking didn’t.

  He rapidly grabbed the phone and answered, “Hello?”

  The usual chilling voice responded, “Hello, Mr. Voss. So far you’re following instructions, but this is not enough. We know what you think, do, and plan. For everything there is a consequence. Even for one of our trusted soldiers, like you witnessed last night. Your life mirrors your thoughts, you create your existence. The things you saw and experienced are real. The eyes can see only what the mind can decipher. You must not only code the Voss Coin but envision its success. Reality is subservient to a powerful mind. It’ll take your complete belief to make this work. You’ll understand more as your reality unfolds. Goodbye, Mr. Voss.”

  The monotonous sound of a hung line rang in his ear. He struggled to grasp the man’s words. If he was right, Lucy was a lying nymphomaniac. The Buddha monk had double-crossed them. The club did exist and contained an exact replica of his bedroom and temple lodgings.

  This can’t all be true, can it? They’re fucking with my mind, trying to control me.

  He walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a triple Macallan.

  “Make that two!”

  John’s gruff voice startled him. He looked troubled, eyes sagging as if he’d not slept in days. Kevin handed him the whiskey.

  “How’s Alice doing, is she OK?”

  He knew the answer even before John opened his mouth.

  “No, she isn’t, Kevin. She is at Mount Sinai hospital. The area where her finger was severed is infected. These sons of bitches didn’t get her immediate medical attention. She’s battling sepsis. She’s in critical condition now. I came here to warn you about something.”