Chapter 10. The man with a scar (Part two)



Chapter 10. The man with a scar (Part two)

[…] I was trying to control my breath so I could understand the message from Oliver.

“Hello, Oliver, it’s Sof. What did they do to you? They caught me as well… Oliver, I want to escape…I am afraid…”
“Sof, Sof! Are you fine? I am tightened up, they threatened me with death if I don’t find a way. What a terror…what did I do to you?! To us?! Listen to me, I want you to stay calm and trust me, do you hear me , Sof? My boat is under surveillance. Does anyone know anything about you these days? What happened there?”
“Oliver, they are wired to the police…I don’t believe in anything any longer…Only she knows…they broke into my office, she will go to the police and they will block her as well…Oliver, who are these people? I have next to me a man with a French accent…it scares me all this…What can I do to make them leave us alone? Please, cooperate with them, Oliver…I don’t resist any further…”
“Sofia, listen to me!” He raised up his voice to make me understand I needed to trust him, continuing in his fast Spanish speaking flow. “Everything will be alright, tell me how the place where you are looks like. I am in Tunisia, the first harbor from the route I had on the invitation. Do you remember? That is where they found me. Artur did not resist, all the others were behind, they will see we don’t move and they will come search for us.”
“They caught me in the house, put me asleep. I am in a room with paintings on the walls, seems like a museum, or similar. I left her a message, she knows the police did not believe me. Take care of you, Oliver, take care of us…cooperate with them, maybe you can launch media news and confirm your error…Leave your ego aside…these people have no mercy…they grew up with the guns in their arms…”
“I know…I have guns targeting me, all these demonic faces…Be strong, I love you.”

I couldn’t reply back, he snatched the phone and while laughing at me, he was twisting a knife in his palm, asking:

“So, did you find out how to make my boss happy? How is…your beloved husband? He calls back home and confirms he is fucking corrupt and he set up everything, manipulating investors. My boss is innocent! Feroil, innocent! Only your husband is guilty, do you hear me? And you, how do you bring us a bit of happiness with your fleshy lips?”

He got closer starring at me like I were a piece of meat in front of a male starving of misery and desire to torture. He bent over and I was feeling the blade of the knife on my thigh, pressing stronger and stronger. The blood was trickling over the sharp metal causing me a tormenting pain and burning tears that were screaming at him:

“Please stop, I talked to him, he said he would cooperate. It hurts me and I cannot bear it any longer, what can I do more…?” Crying, I shouted my soul out for him to stop, the heat of the blood washing away my skin touched by the dirty hands of that miserable person, taking away my blast. He showed his smile once again and I felt his lips and tongue on the wound while climbing up his hand over my breast, strongly tearing my blouse.

“You see, the beautiful eyes and the heart of your round breasts could make my boss happy. And me, first, cause you see, my boss likes to share. You understand, this knife scratched you a little, but these legs must get more relaxed…”

Telling me all those vanishing words, he opened my legs with his heavy and full of scars hands, and pulling my zipper he touched my intimate parts while recording everything like a demon that was petrifying me. I was crying, praying to God to give me power to protect my kid, to protect his father that I love more than anything in life. Without being able to endure, I lost my consciousness for a couple of moments, which made him stop and start discussing with the others on the phone, hearing through my foggy attention how they were laughing at my tears while scuffing me, listening to Oliver shouting at them to leave me alone. After a strong snap, a frightening silence got over the room with the last words that took my senses and clarity away, feeling terrified by him:

“Je veux la baiser, cette salope. Elle est…Vous le frappez, c’est vrai?” *

I did not want to think about that…to be raped by a criminal…by that man paid to kill, at all costs. I pretended myself out of my mind to gain time..Oliver stayed unconscious, that punch put him down…it put me down…I heard his steps towards me.
“You, whore, get up.” He shouted, slapping me.
“Please, leave me alone, we will pay for all your loss. Please, I beg you…”
“Loss? You make me laugh, my boss is not happy. You must make him happy. I don’t die for you, I have kids, you, whore, either you die, either them. Who do you think I prefer?”

His veins became swollen and within a glimpse of irrational thought, he smashed his mobile phone on the wall, which made him lose contact with Tunisia and Algeria.

“You see what I do because of you? I will teach you!” Angrily, he slapped me again, greasing his revenging hands and stained by the remaining of other souls, with my blood.

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