Serpent's Deceit (Entry 009)

 

Dax engulfs me in a hug as I break into tears. Sobbing and hiccuping, I cry my heart out. Someone seeing me now without any context might believe that I have lost a loved one to death. Not entirely wrong. I might lose myself tomorrow to death. 

I am genuinely scared. I have never been this terrified in my whole life. Then again, I have never had to face a life-threatening situation. I have read it in books, but experiencing it in person is a totally different thing. You do not understand the depth of life unless you are standing at the edge of it.

Dax keeps holding me and rubbing my back to soothe me. But he stays silent. What would he even say? That I should not cry? That it is gonna be alright? He knows that it is real way more than I do, and he definitely knows that it is not gonna be alright. God knows how much money I have bet my life on.

Speaking of that, “What's the amount, Dax?” I ask him the real question. He pulls me closer and rubs his hand on my head in an attempt to comfort me. “You don't need to worry about that,” he mumbles against my hair. 

I push away from him to look him in the eye and see what is actually going through his mind while he is saying that, because that makes no sense to me. I do not bother hiding my annoyance. “Are you serious? My fucking life is tied to it! What do you mean by “I don't need to worry about it”?”

He looks indifferent, not exactly to the problem, I realise. He looks troubled about it, but he is confident about the solution, overconfident, I must say. “I will manage somehow. I'm definitely not letting them take you!”

His voice rises a little at the end. That makes me more annoyed. I get up from the floor. “Oh? And how long has this been pending? It didn't seem to me that you got into this shit yesterday and they are here for the money today.”

“That's not important.” He looks away. I can't believe this guy. The frustration of the situation, his indifferent attitude and the fear of the outcome make me explode in anger. “Are you even listening to yourself? Or do you not understand the gravity of the situation? They threatened to take me, Dax! They promised to take me as a replacement. I'm buying myself from them in exchange for that amount. Do you really not care about me at all or—”

He gets up instantly, grabbing my flailing hands. Frowning, he questions, “What do you mean I don't care about you? Are you listening to me? I'm telling you that I'm getting you out of it and that I'm gonna do something about it. Why can't you trust me?”

Now he is yelling as well. Why can't I trust him? Nice question. I jab a finger at his chest. “Because you didn't do anything trustworthy! If you did, I wouldn't be stuck in this situation!”

From the silence that follows from his side and the look in his eyes, I realise my words hit him deeper than I have intended. However, he looks away, composing himself instantly. “....... that's why I told you to never get involved with me.”

Anything he says to me now will only fuel my anger. So I pick up my bag from the floor and make my way to the door, not before telling him, “Very good. Stay here with that fucking attitude and eat that shit up as well.”

Hours later- 

Deciding to rush home alone in anger is the stupidest decision I have made in life. When you have a death penalty hanging above your head followed by a kidnapping threat, it is not safe to go home alone. Anything might happen. And I realise that after I have set foot in my house.

One moment, one conversation, one random piece of knowledge and my life has changed drastically. An experience that I have definitely never wanted is having a twenty-four-hour penalty for getting kidnapped. I am sure that no one ever wants that experience either.

I'm debating what I should do now. Do I prepare for the money, or do I go to the police? They have not even mentioned anything about the police. Is it because they forget it, or is it because they are so confident that the police would not do anything? I am not sure what the case is here, and I am not sure what I should do either. I have a plan on how to pay the money. However, I do not have any idea of the amount in the first place since I have stormed out of Dax's house. Again, I am back to square one. 

I decide to take a quick shower to clear my body and mind. As I get out of my clothes, a crumpled piece of paper falls to the ground, possibly from one of the pockets. Not having any idea about what it is, I pick it up and smooth it to see what is inside.

A number is written inside with a text that says, “The number you need.”

I stare at the piece of paper, dumbfounded.

What the hell is this? Who would pull such a creepy prank on me? Is this a joke or what? 

I am about to throw it away. But for some reason, it occurs to me that I should check the number. I come back to the room and grab my phone. Opening one of those spam call identifiers, I enter the number. It shows no result. I do not exactly have that much hope for it. However, I try several others, and the result is the same. 

Just then, I get a message from Hunter. “Noah pulled that shit again,” it says.

I reply back, “Do me a favour. Check this number and tell me who this is.” And I send him the number.

He has read the message and is hopefully fulfilling my request. After almost a minute, he replies back, “Don't know. Called. No answer.”

I let out a defeated sigh. No lead. Guess we will have to just throw it away. 

Throwing the paper in the bin, I move back to the bathroom to take a bath. The bath is short and quick and does not exactly relax me. But I feel kinda clean, and my mind feels kinda fresh. So, it is good. 

After the bath, I take a quick dinner and come back to my room. It makes me feel guilty when Mom tells me to spend a bit more time with them, and I refuse. I probably should not have done that. Who knows if I will be able to see them after tonight?

That thought alone makes me want to crumble down and cry. But I cannot lose hope yet. I still have time. I need to make a plan.

First, I need to find the amount. I have some savings. I need to see if that will cover it. Judging by the gravity of the situation, the amount does not seem to be small. There is a huge chance that my savings would not cover it. If that happens, what will I do? I do not know.

Do I call Dax now? Since I have come out of his house, he has not tried to contact me once. I know it is a red flag on his part. But a person cannot be hundred percent perfect. On top of that, this type of behaviour is not uncommon from his side. 

The question still remains. Honestly, I do not feel like talking to him now. But for my sake, I think I should.

Just as I take the phone in my hand to call Dax, it starts ringing. Imagine my surprise when I see the number on the screen. No, it is not Dax. It is the number I have thrown in the dustbin half an hour ago. 

Now it is way more creepy. Who is this person, and why are they after me? Slipping the number into my pocket is one thing. But calling my number? What kind of shitty prank is this?

The call gets cut off, breaking my chain of thought. Before I can even get a sigh of relief, it comes back. Seems like it will go on and on if I do not pick up. So, I slide the green bar and press the phone to my ear to see what is going on.

“Hey, Dulcinea. How you doing?” I immediately recognise that voice. That scratchy and throaty way of talking is possible for only one person, who will give me nightmares for sure when I fall asleep tonight, that is, if I even get an ounce of sleep. That son of a bitch with tattoos crawling on his skin like snakes.

So, that is the one pranking me. Though it makes sense now, the realisation makes my skin crawl. He has been close and sly enough to slip that piece of paper into my pocket without me noticing anything. Would he be able to slide a knife— 

I shake away the gory thought from my mind. Instead, I focus on the situation at hand. “How did you get my number?” is the real question at this moment. He should not have my number. I mean, that is the point of slipping the number in the first place. If he had my number from the beginning, why would he do this drama? It is also concerning how he has my number all of a sudden.

I'm going to change my number after this phone call. The whole situation is highly suspicious. I cannot risk myself getting involved anymore. If he somehow hacked to get my number, there is a high chance he would do the same thing to get my address. That would be the worst kind of situation, as my parents might get involved here as well. 

His answer comes through the other end of the phone, breaking my chain of thought. “That's not important. Heard you looking for me? So, I came to you myself. Might be better to just show up at your doorstep for your convenience, but you see, Imma busy man, so…”

He talks too much. I cut him off. “Why are you calling me?”

A long moment of silence is followed by a dangerously dark chuckle, which makes me wonder why I am still on the call. “Oh, you didn't hear me? Just told you that. You need me, baby. You are looking for me everywhere. So, I came. Ah, how I wish I could say this when I'm inside—”

I take a deep breath. His foul mouth is none of my business right now. I interrupt again before he gets to finish that sentence. “Seems like you don't have any business with me. I'm cutting the call.”

He stops me with a drawl. “Ah, shh. Wait, wait. I think you're forgetting something important.”

My annoyance starts outrunning the fear. I spit back with venom. “I'm forgetting nothing important.”

 

“Don't you need the worth of your life, Dulcinea?” comes his question, which makes me still. The worth of my life? I know what he is talking about, but it is such a cruel way to say that. Is the worth of my life really controlled by merely a number now? 

Who am I kidding? Of course, it is. I know it too. 

I have been looking for an answer to that question. But when it is phrased that way, when reality hits me in the face, I don't know what to say. He takes the silence as an agreement from my side. 

"Figured. That—" he utters a slur so nasty my mind stops working for a second, "—hasn't given you the information. Como una puta rica como tu termina con ese pendejito de mierda? No lo entiendo. Dump that dead weight already. My bed is always ready for you, with or without the money. I would be delighted to have my co—”

I grit my teeth, ears ringing with embarrassment. One more second listening to these bullshits, and I might go insane. “What's the amount?” I hiss.

He chuckles again, and I scrunch up my face in disgust. How can only one meeting make me hate someone so devotedly? It is only possible when it is someone as vile as him. 

He continues, voice thick with that Spanish accent. “I love people who get the business quickly. The amount is six hundred and thirty-two dollars. I'm excusing the cents solely for you, Dulcinea.”

I pull the phone from my ear and press the red button. His voice comes floating as long as it takes to cut the call. He says something in Spanish again. My ability in Spanish is not appreciable, so I do not understand what that is. It is none of my business anyway. My business is done already.

That is not the amount I have expected. I think that I have expected a little bit more, something out of my reach. It is not like I am bragging or that I have got the full amount with me now. I think I have enough to mostly cover it.

I get up and walk over to the closet. Opening the door, I pull out a hardboard box from underneath the shoe shelf. I have been saving up money in this box for college. Now is not the time to think of that. When my life tomorrow is uncertain, a dream of college is a luxury.

Bringing the box to the bed, I begin counting the money. Four hundred and thirty dollars. Nearly two hundred short. Where do I get the remaining amount?

I may get nearly one hundred from mom and dad if I lie perfectly. But the rest?

I should call Dax to see if he can manage the rest. Or, should I call that guy and ask him to excuse the rest of the amount as well?

I dismiss the idea as soon as it comes. My business is done with him. After the money is arranged, I will ask Dax to pay it. I am not getting involved anymore.

I realise that I do not know his name either. Again, not my business.

I pick up the phone and call Dax’s number. The call rings off. I dial two more times. Same result. 

What the hell has happened now? Is he showing me an attitude? Is it even the time for this drama?

Frustrated, as I am about to throw the phone away, it starts ringing. Dax is calling back. I pick it up.

I might have yelled at him, but the sound from his end chills my blood. 

"H... Help... Please..."