The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)
The Foiled Plan: Chapter 41

Immediately I know that I need to run—that I need to get out of here. Bringing my knife up, I’m ready to plow my way through. But as I try to do just that, he easily twists my wrist, taking the knife from me. Then, his hand around the material of my shirt, dragging me forward.

His strength is so great that no matter what I do, I can’t dislodge myself from his grasp.

‘No, no, please let me go,’ I beg, but the sound falls on deaf ears.

Even as I try to tear at the material of my shirt—anything to escape his hold—I can’t.

And as he reaches the stairs, he merely yanks me forward as he drags my body down the rough stone.

Whimpers of pain escape my lips, and soon, I feel myself numb from it.

But not numb enough for what follows.

‘Look what I’ve found, jefe,’ he says in Spanish. ‘Una pequeña rata.’

Sounds erupt in the room, and as I strain to look towards the direction of the throne, I see Sergio freeze, his knife still in position to kill the girl.

‘Damn, I think we’ve been blessed tonight,’ he suddenly says, coming to my side.

Instinctively, I cower back, putting my head down so I won’t look him in the eyes—knowing that if I do, he will perceive it as a sign of disrespect and make me pay.

Leaning down, he bends his head enough to whisper in my ear.

‘You’ve been a very bad girl, Noelle. You shouldn’t have snooped in something that was no business of yours. What is the saying, ignorance is bliss?’ he pauses, feeling me shiver in fear. ‘In this room, I am not Sergio. I am not your husband and you are not my wife. I cannot help you. You will behave as told, or you will die. Understood?’ I nod rapidly. ‘You have one chance to survive,’ he chuckles. ‘If you can…’

Stepping away from me, he addresses the other people.

‘We have been blessed with another contender on this night. The one who spills the most blood wins, and gets another chance at life.’

I blink rapidly, unsure whether I’m understanding it right.

‘But first, we need to prepare her,’ he says right before he turns, going back to his throne and grabbing a mortar and pestle, grinding something inside.

Approaching me again, he pries my mouth open as he sticks two fingers coated in a green substance inside.

‘Swallow,’ he commands, and afraid he will hurt me, I gulp it down.

‘What…what is it?’ I make the courage to ask.

‘You don’t need to know,’ he answers dismissively.

Instructing his men, the chants continue, the position resumes as they circle both me and the girl.

One brief moment of clarity and I realize I need to do something. I can’t die here. And I certainly won’t sit by to let these weird people have their way with me. Because I truly don’t know what’s going to happen once…

‘The rules are simple,’ Sergio addresses. ‘There are no rules. Each will be provided with a blade. Let’s start, shall we?’

My head is pounding, my vision already swimming. Briefly, I think of what Sergio must have given me.

He drugged me…

I don’t get to dwell on it further as the other girl jumps on me, blade out and ready to draw blood.

My eyes widen as my body spurs into action, instinct taking over. Rolling to the side, I barely avoid the blade as it hits the ground.

‘Die,’ she yells at me, her eyes red and glazed over.

Whatever Sergio fed me, he must have fed her too. But she’s had more time with it in her system than me, which means… I have an advantage. But not for long.

Looking to the side, it’s to see the masked men taking their positions in the circle, the chants louder than ever.

The blade whooshes through the air, barely avoiding my face.

I need to focus.

But how can I when I’m thrust into a life or death situation? When there are people on the sidelines waiting for me to die in a grand show?

Sergio must be counting down the seconds, happy to get rid of his good for nothing wife. Then, I’ll have made his job easier, no? That he hasn’t killed me until now it’s a wonder. But he’s certainly tried enough times. After all, it’s only fitting for causing his accident and making him lose everything. I have to pay for it every single day of my life.

Every fucking day.

He must be smug, no doubt, thinking his meek wife couldn’t possibly defend herself. She’s certainly never done so against his fists.

But that thought births a new determination within me.

I’m not going to die today.

I’m not going to die here.

And I’ll never die by Sergio’s hands.

I’d rather do it myself—the only peace I can afford at this point.

But this means I can’t give up.

A new focus enters my mind, and I try to banish the fogginess that tries to wash over me as I set my gaze on my opponent.

She’s breathing raggedly, her pupils huge as her head bobs from side to side. Her fingers are wrapped tightly around the handle of the knife as she holds it to her front, ready for attack.

I get a better grip on my own knife as I take in my surroundings, regulating my breathing and trying to calm my errant pulse. It’s only a matter of time before I become like her, so I need to take advantage of my rather intact faculties while I can.

My mind set, I’m no longer on the defensive as I take my first step, switching into a position of offensive.

Stepping from right to left on the raised ridges of the floor, I propel myself forward as I run towards her.

Her sight is lazy and she has trouble making sense of my location. One moment I’m on her right side, the next I’m on the left.

Just as I’d expected, her reactions are delayed, thus giving me the necessary time to get in her personal zone.

One more step.

Just one more step and I’m in front of her.

I blink twice.

This is the moment. I can hesitate, and be killed. Or I can kill and live.

There is no choice.

There never was.

Two seconds before she charges at me, I position my knife with the blade upwards. Thrusting it forward, I impale her in one motion, the knife going right under her chin and into her skull.

Her mouth opens as blood starts pouring out. But she doesn’t die immediately. Not for a few more seconds. A few seconds too many as her body jerks, her blade making contact with my lower stomach and cutting a straight line across it.

I gasp.

She wheezes.

More blood spurts out.

My hand goes to my midriff while hers seeks to remove the blade lodged in her skull.

We both move, but hers is her last.

With one tug, rivulets of blood start flowing out of her.

I think I hear a gong. A booming sound echoing across the chamber.

I think someone moves me.

I can’t move.

I hear my own heartbeat, the sound deafening. My hands go to my ears, pressing down and trying to shut it out.

But there’s no shutting out what’s happening before me.

Blinking clarity in my eyes, I realize my reactions must have been impacted by shock. I’m already across the room, sitting on the stairs as I look on to the spectacle before me.

Sergio is holding the girl by the hair above the hole, using his big blade to cut once more across her throat, making even more blood pour out of her and floor the circular indentation.

It flows and flows and flows.

Monosyllabic chants reverberate through the air. Guttural sounds that send a shiver down my back, an ominous feeling enveloping me.

Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.

I can’t even process the fact that I took another life, because the monstrosity happening in front of me is too much to bear—too much for anyone to bear.

Her body’s been drained, or as much as they managed to. Placing her body outside the hole, Sergio holds her head over it as he brings the blade down with as much strength he can muster.

Hack. Hack. Hack.

I hear the bone shatter, her cervical spine snapping with every hit. Until… Until her head comes off.

Still holding the head by the braids, he raises it in the air.

Her eyes are still open—empty but open. And as I continue looking at her, it’s like I still see her.

I killed her.

Breathe. I need to breathe.

While Sergio walks around the room with the head, Fernando comes out of his corner holding a big ceramic container.

It dawns on me that he’s the only one not actively taking part in the ceremony—merely helping Sergio with his tasks.

But as he starts pouring some liquid into the pipe system, I realize what he’s doing.

Phosphorescent light starts emanating from the indents in the ground, almost like a shimmery mess. Since I have a higher vantage point, I can see all the silvery particles as they mix with the blood, making it all look entirely too unnatural.

Mercury.

It’s mercury. I’m sure of it.

But what’s the purpose of all this? Somehow, I can’t wrap my head around anything that’s going on.

I can barely feel the pain, though I know the cut she gave me wasn’t a slight one. I’m simply numb as I keep on watching. And to my great surprise, everyone gives me a wide berth too. I’m already forgotten as they focus on the dead body, getting it ready for whatever else they have in store.

The headless body is still on the ground. Sergio finally brings a pike, staking the head on it and leaving it in the middle of the room.

One by one, the participants start shedding their clothes, all men stroking their erections.

I freeze.

What…

I’m trembling as I watch them all form a line before the headless woman, the first man grabbing the legs and spreading them before aligning his dick to her entrance, pushing in.

My eyes bulge in my head.

He’s… He’s fucking a dead woman. He’s…

I’m hallucinating. There’s no other explanation.

He thrusts into her until groans permeate the air. Pulling out of her, he takes a blade as he cuts himself across the hands before working his dick towards the hole in the ground, shooting his seed into the sea of blood and mercury.

As he’s done, he moves aside for the next one to do the same.

He takes the headless woman, just like you would a lifeless doll, and he starts fucking her.

‘You need to go if you don’t want to be next,’ a low voice startles me. Looking up, I see Fernando on the stairs, looking down at me.

‘Come, we’re going back to the house,’ he jerks me up, pulling me by my shirt as he leads me towards the tunnel once more.

My feet move, but my mind takes some time to catch up with what just happened.

With the enormity of what happened.

‘What was that?’ I whisper. ‘That’s not normal, is it?’

‘Normal?’ he laughs at me. ‘Normal is relative, chavita, Your husband is a great man,’ he says with conviction.

‘A great man?’ I scoff. ‘He almost had me killed tonight.’

‘And by luck you didn’t die,’ he shrugs. ‘You should thank your gods for that.’

‘Gods… What are you talking about?’ I shake my head, confused.

‘Your husband has the favor of the Gods. He is the chosen one, and the reason why this region is so prosperous. Everyone owes him. He made jobs for people, he loaned money to los campesinos when there was drought. He is king here.’ He states resolutely.

I can only stare at him flabbergasted.

I’ve known from the beginning that Sergio and his acolytes are involved in a drug ring, or something to do with drugs. From what I’d managed to eavesdrop, he has multiple factories where he manufactures novel types of drugs and then smuggles them across the border to the States.

‘But what was that?’

‘That?’ He turns to me, his eyes glinting dangerously. ‘That was him keeping his power. And if you don’t want to end up like that girl, I’d suggest you forget everything about tonight.’

‘Why did you take me away?’

I don’t know where this barrage of questions is coming from, but I need to know. What the fuck did my family drop me into? Because this is no longer just a fucked up family dynamic where fists replaced words. This is a whole other level of horror show.

‘Why do you think?’ He asks, his tone suggestive.

‘To save me,’ I answer, but my words don’t hold any conviction.

Because the more we walk away from the horror show from before, the more I get the feeling that another one awaits us.

‘Save you?’ he laughs. ‘You know,’ he suddenly stops, turning to face me.

He’s not much bigger than I am, but with the drugs in my system he feels huge.

And threatening.

‘El jefe told me I could get a reward for providing them with extra entertainment.’

Instinctively, I back away.

‘What… What do you mean?’ My voice trembles as I ask.

He doesn’t answer, he merely smiles in a lewd way that makes my insides shrivel.

‘Stay away from me,’ I whisper, shaking my head. ‘Don-don’t touch me.’

‘I’ve been eying you for a while now, chavita. But el jefe forbid anyone from touching you, so I bid my time. I knew eventually he would cave.’

My eyes flash at him, fear unlike any I’ve ever known washing through me.

‘Oh, don’t look so surprised. You’re not the first one,’ he chuckles, his hands already on his belt.

I still feel woozy from the drugs, but I’m not about to sit by and let this man rape me. Instead, I force a smile to my face as I go closer to him, smoothing my hands over his shirt as I bat my lashes at him.

His brows shoot up in surprise and before he knows it, my knee connects with his crotch. A groan escapes him and he crouches over in pain.

Though I can barely move, I make an effort to run.

The material of my shirt is soaked from blood, but I can’t even feel the pain. I just run to the best of my ability.

Hope resurfaces inside of me as I see a light at the end of the tunnel. But before I can cross the remaining distance, though, I’m tackled to the ground, his weight on top of me right as the back of his hand connects with my cheek.

My mouth opens in pain, but I can’t even make a sound.

By the time awareness creeps back in I can feel him work his hands on my pants, trying to unzip them and lower them down my legs.

He already has his dick out and…

I can’t let this happen.

I won’t.

Using all the strength I have remaining, I kick at him, not letting him take my pants off. In my clumsy attempts, I manage to hit him in the face enough to distract him and drag myself from under him.

Yet it’s still not enough as he quickly recovers, a murderous expression on his face as he grabs my ankles, pulling me back towards him.

My arms are flailing around as I hope to replace some type of support to stop him from getting to me, but it’s all in vain. There’s nothing but these stone walls that are about to witness the death of my last shred of dignity.

As my hands roam the floor, I feel a sharp edge cutting into my skin.

My knife…

The one he’d thrown out of my hand.

My fingers feel for the handle, and securing it in my hold, I bide my own time, knowing this is a decisive moment.

I can’t attack too soon, or I’ll lose my weapon. I have to do it at the right time.

He pulls the pants off my legs, discarding them aside before settling between my legs, his hands already on my panties.

But before he can get rid of that last barrier, he looks up at me, a smug expression on his face.

‘Ay que bien te voy a cojer, chavita,’ he adds arrogantly.

But just as he is close enough to me, I bring my knife up, placing all my strength into one thrust.

Just like I’d done to the girl, I push the sharp edge into his throat, nabbing just the right angle for the blood to start pouring.

He coughs on me, splattering me with blood before he collapses on top of me—dead weight.

For a moment, I can’t move.

Two.

I killed two people in less than a few hours.

‘Demonios,’ I swear softly, staring at the semi-lit ceiling. ‘Quién carajos soy yo?’ I ask the question that’s been eating at me all along.

Soon, I’ll be able to answer it simply.

Not me.

I ceased to be me the day my brother gave me to Sergio.

Now… I’m what’s left.

I don’t know if it’s the drug in my system that’s making me react funny to my current circumstances, but other than shock, there’s nothing else.

No remorse.

I can’t feel anything.

It feels like forever before I manage to throw Fernando off me, getting into a sitting position and pulling my pants back on. My stomach wound begins hurting in earnest, and I have trouble bending down.

Yet as I stare at Fernando’s soulless body, the fact that his dick is still out in the open gives me an idea.

Grabbing the knife, I start cutting.

I might not always be able to defend myself against Sergio’s fists. But I can at least show him he can’t do whatever he wants with me.

He can’t give me to other men.

My fingers close around the puny piece of flesh, and almost in a daze, I replace my way out of the tunnel and back to my room.

As I reach it, though, I grab a piece of paper and I write my husband a message.

Vete al diablo.

Then, I simply leave it at his door, dropping the detached dick on top of it.

It’s only after that I breathe relieved as I lock my room, not even letting Lucero come in to tend to me.

Lifting my shirt, the wound looks nasty—worse than I thought.

And together with my other scars… I snort as I look into the mirror.

Beaten down, yet not defeated.

If I have to kill everyone who comes at me, then so be it.

And if I get the chance to kill Sergio…

A sick smile pulls at my lips.

I’ll do it.

My eyes snap open, my stomach churning from the elusive memory. I barely manage to get up and run to the bathroom before I empty the contents of my stomach. I keep heaving and heaving, the images so insanely nauseating, I can’t manage to pull myself together again.

And as I keep replaying the scenes, especially my thoughts, I can’t help but ask…

Who was I?

Who the hell was I, because I don’t recognize that person.

Slumping down on the bathroom floor, my back is against the cold tiles as I look at the ceiling through red tinged eyes.

A killer.

I’m a killer.

Raf was right. I’m a fucking impostor.