IDRIS

By the time the news hits Idris, he's already been beaten down by more bad news. He just lost his second nightclub due to monetary reasons, and now only one remains. But it will soon follow in the others' footsteps. Then he'll be left with nothing, because now he has nothing much to his name. Even his hotel isn't safe. Give it a couple more weeks and they'll tear it away from him.

Just a few seconds ago, he put his penthouse up on the market. Since he's cutting it loose, it's best to garner as much income as he can. So now all he has is the estate, which is still quite a lot to take care of, and a couple cars which haven't yet been sold.

Now he's receiving another phone call. A phone call. It seems no one wants to meet with him face to face any longer. Why should they? His name and reputation has sunk deep, and now all he has to show for his power is the mansion he's currently in.

Some of the guards have quit, as there's nothing more holding them there other than a man who they once thought was great. Well, let them leave. Idris never cared for them anyway. They were all cannon fodder, hired to do his bidding. He'll be just fine without them.

The voice over the phone tells Idris Six was found dead. Lost his life to some cruel torture measures. They tell him he was barely recognizable, and that he'd been subjected to the torture with his family at home. Right under their noses.

Idris just sits there on the couch and listens. He says nothing. He does nothing. The voice tells him Six is now in the mortuary, then they give him something along the lines of condolence. They even give him time to voice his own thoughts. Share a few words. But Idris doesn't. He sits in silence until the line goes dead.

Well, there it is. The next prey, caught up in some supernatural cause Idris knows nothing about. He stares off into space, mind and body weary, eyes heavy with lethargy. Perhaps he should just wait for his time to come. In fact, they should come for him this very moment. He won't resist. How can he resist something he can't fight?

Josi steps into the bedroom while Idris is still in the midst of his turmoil. But when he looks at her, all that seems to subside. There she is.

"Josita . . ." And before he knows it, all his emotions work their way up like bile. She looks at him with those same eyes, those eyes that carry so much warmth. Warmth for him. She must be aware of the torment he's currently in, because her face drops into worry.

"What's wrong?" She asks him.

Idris doesn't know where to begin. He doesn't want to begin. He just wants the affliction gone, so he rises up and embraces her. When she completes the embrace, he feels a little better. Not enough though. He's not sure what else to do. His life has made a complete 180. He doesn't even know where or how it began, but it has buried in him an anguish so great, he's become unlike himself. He's starting to forget how he was previously.

Idris sinks down to his knees, still holding on to Josi. He holds her waist and buries his face in her abdomen, almost like a child. "I don't know what's happening, Josita. Why is this happening to me?"

She doesn't respond to him, only pats his head, almost like a mother. Meanwhile, Idris remains there on his knees, latching on to her. "Tell me you love me."

Josi looks down at him, in some thoughts of her own. Then she clasps his cheeks and brings his face up to meet hers. The warmth in those hands is relaxing. He needs more if he wants that icy feeling in his chest melted away. She even begins caressing his cheeks, smoothly. Gently. And then she smiles. Once again, the warmth in her eyes.

"I love you."

And despite all his agony, Idris smiles. He leans his head against Josi, closes his eyes, and remains there on his knees, wrapped up in her warmth. With this curse that has been placed upon him, at least he still has Josi.

~《¤》~

JOSI

A date with Idris today. With the news of his second capo meeting his end, he needs it. Josi should at least perform her duty as his girlfriend. Make him feel somewhat better. It's like fattening a pig before slaughter.

Six down, two more to go. The smell of victory has cemented itself in the air, and now Josi basks in it. The end is near. After months of perseverance and planning, it has all finally lead to this very moment. This moment marked by pure bliss. To think she managed to make it this far when just two years ago, she was nothing more than Idris's pass time. His plaything.

But enough about the past. The present is where Josi's focus should lie. Before the date, she heads to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Since the guards can't even do their jobs right, she's been subjected to handling the brewing herself. The tea helps the wound on the side of her stomach. It soothes it, almost like a remedy. And now she's come to rely on those herbs.

But this trip doesn't quite end well. Well, not for Josi it doesn't. There are two guards in the kitchen, in the middle of some gossip that has Josi's interest piqued. She stops just outside and gives her attention to that conversation.

"It's all turning to shit, and I bet it's that bitch's fault."

"Wish that knife attack killed her off." Says the next guard.

The first guard laughs. "Maybe Alvize will try again. Let's pray."

Now Josi reveals herself, and instantly the two guards go stiff. She saunters into the kitchen and stops in front of a guard whose red hair seems orange under the sun rays through the window. Meanwhile, the other guard-a man with little to no eyebrows-just stares at her with disdain in his eyes.

"Do the two of you have something you would like to say to me?" Josi asks.

Silence. Then Red head takes her up on her offer. "Nothing you don't already know." He shrugs. "As it currently stands, you're a pain in all our asses."

The second guard shows his support only in the scowl he gives Josi.

Josi just looks at them, her mind still undecided on what action to take. If she lets these men walk off scot free, it would seem like she's excusing their behavior. It would give the rest of the guards leeway to run their mouths. And while previously, secret talks like this never made her care enough, it has now begun running its course. These men are lowlives. They're filthy. They should not hold her name in their mouths. And she needs to drive that point.

On the table where the men are is a kitchen knife. The kind used to slice up meat. Even from where she stands, Josi can see the edge glimmer under the daylight. Quite sharp it is. Perfect for the job. She heads for the weapon, picks it up, and with brutal force, brings it down on Red Head's hand. It severs some of his fingers, although choppily. There are some where the blade hit, but didn't successfully cut all the way through. So it just hangs off. Dangling. Spewing blood.

The guard falls to the floor screaming. Not just screaming but crying. The pain must be great, because he kicks his feet like a child, all while holding his damaged hand in the air. Josi drops the knife and tunes into his scream. Very pleasing. It should be recorded and played many times over. Then he'll be reminded of this accident. Over and over again. And Josi will smile, as she currently is. Over and over again.

Josi turns to the other guard who has lost himself in the gore. "Put him out of his misery."

It seems the severed fingers aren't shocking enough, because the guard looks at Josi as if she's just performed a magic trick. ". . . what?"

"He's clearly suffering. I think he'd want you to put him out of his misery."

On the floor, Red Head catches wind of this plan and goes stiff with fear. He looks to the other guard, then at Josi, and then at the other guard who has now grown so pale, it looks like he'll become transparent. "I–I can't."

"You can." Josi pulls out her gun, as the weapon is always on standby, and points it at the guard. "Otherwise, you'll be taking his place."

And with this ultimatum, the guard is forced to move accordingly. He fetches from his pocket a gun and brings it down to Red Head whose weeping has doubled. He hesitates because clearly, he's never turned his own weapon on an ally. But to go against Josi's orders means suffering consequences. So he clicks the safety back, offers some heartfelt apologies, and pulls the trigger.

Red Head goes lifeless instantly, and now Josi is satisfied. But not fully. The last guard still remains. She clicks the safety back and gets ready to shoot. Except she doesn't, because Idris enters the kitchen. He stops by the doorway and surveys the dead body on the floor, then directs his eyes towards the guard and finally to Josi.

Josi stares at him, thinks for a couple seconds, then goes and stands besides him. Now the last guard looks the size of a bug in front of them, ready to be squashed. "They were gossiping about you."

The guard's face gives way to more shock. "I-I never–"

"He called you incompetent, Idris. And me, a bitch. He said you deserve everything that's coming for you."

"She's lying, sir, I never said any of those things!"

Josi disregards the guard and brings her lips up to Idris's ear. "He said you're a failure."

Idris grows tense, and immediately Josi can tell this hit a mark. She smiles. How easy. "Here," she hands him her gun. "Do it for me."

Idris looks at the gun in hands, then at Josi whose smile has grown more reassured. She's urging him. And it's working. She clasps his hand and brings the weapon up to the guard who now trembles under the unfair judgment. As one last push, she gives Idris a nod. A nod that tells him to go on ahead with the attack. And so Idris follows orders. He clicks the safety back and fires. Now the last of the cannon fodder has met his end.

As a reward, Josi gives Idris a kiss, and then another on his cheek. "Let's go. We're going to be late."

Idris nods and allows her lead him towards their car. They have a date to attend to.

__

After the restaurant date, Josi takes Idris on a walk down the street. Croff is there with them, just in case the ghost that currently haunts the Verdonni family decides to drop in on Idris. He walks behind them and keeps his attention off their conversation, but is still on high alert.

"The penthouse sold," Idris says, eyes on the ground only. "It's finally gone."

Josi grabs his hand and intertwines it with hers. "Cheer up. Everything will work out just fine."

Idris looks at her, his gaze softer, and immediate Josi can see his shoulders relax. He's trying desperately to stay afloat this flood that has washed over the family. It's almost pitiful. But he brought this upon himself.

They continue their walk down the street which has only been kept illuminated by the city lights. Though the sky remains dark, Josi can see the clouds stir. They must be getting ready for the seasonal change.

The couple walk past a stranger who bumps Idris's shoulder along the way, and Idris ignores the accident. That is, until the stranger pulls out a gun and points it at him. It happened so fast, Josi could barely even fathom any of it. The stranger, who is now more or less an assailant, clicks the safety back and gets ready to fire.

But Croff, with his quick thinking, grabs the assailant's arm and forces the weapon away from his grasp. Then he drags the assailant into an alleyway and throws him against the wall. The assailant struggles to pick himself up, but is met by a sickening punch which knocks him back down. Croff squats and grabs him by his shirt; so tight that Josi can see it digging into his skin.

"Who sent you?"

The assailant is defiant at first, but he won't be for long. Croff gives him ten seconds to answer, which he refuses to take advantage of. Croff then grabs the back of the culprit's head and slams his face into the ground. This leaves his nose broken, and perhaps in a new mood for talking.

"Who sent you?"

Besides Josi, Idris tenses up, and she can tell he wants the answer as much as Croff does. Finally, the assailant confesses. "Alvize. He wants the Verdonni dead."

Idris balls his fists, but doesn't look surprised. He must have expected for it to be Alvize. Croff puts an end to the perpetrator by a gun to his head. And then he engages in some conversation with Idris, which completely flies by Josi. Because she's now in a world of her own.

The ringing in Josi's ears overcloud her own thoughts, and only after seconds of calming herself down does she regain control. This is Alvize's work. He sent this agent after Idris. How close he'd been to dying. How close Alvize had been to ruining her plans. Idris is her target. He belongs to her. The fact that Alvize thought it wise to end his life infuriates Josi more than she's letting on. It matters little if she incited this very war. Alvize should have stuck to playing bad cop. He should have stuck to targeting Idris's supply.

Now Josi has no more use for him. Alvize has overstayed his welcome. He has weakened Idris enough, and now it's time to bid him farewell.

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