Incestory: Kiska

Kiska was a terrible sight. My heart wrenched when I saw her in the mirror, crumpled on the floor of her bedroom at my father's feet. She was battered and her beautiful dress was torn to shreds.

"I'm so sorry!" I said to her.

She caught my eye and spoke to me in Vivian's voice: "Don't get yourself killed."

*****************************

"Papa, I love you," Kiska said as she ran her hands up his thick hairy calves. She let her hair tickle his thighs as she slid up between his legs.

He looked down his body at her and started to sit up but she took his softening penis into her mouth and cupped his balls.

"Oh, yes!" he gasped.

Her eyes never left mine in the mirror as she sucked and jerked his dick, slobbering and licking him maniacally. She was working him like a well paid whore.

Saliva and precum dripped in long strands from her chin. It was a disgusting sight but I understood what she was doing - It all made sense to me now ... She was saving my life.

"Moya Kiska!" he cried out as his body bucked in ecstasy.

He came in her mouth and she dropped her head down on him, burying him to the hilt, his thick white sperm flowed out of her mouth and down his balls to puddle on the sheets between his legs.

He panted for a few more seconds and then passed out.

She slowly licked him clean and smiled warmly at me ... I was safe for a moment now.

*****************************

I cleaned myself up as best I could and packed my bags quickly and quietly so as not to rouse him. If he woke up before I was gone, dying would probably be the least of my worries.

I found the hair pin in my handbag. I considered using it on him now that he was passed out but I couldn't bring myself to really do it. He would have used it on me - no doubt. That was the difference between us. I couldn't hurt the defenseless.

I took all of the money he had in his jacket. He must have made collections last night because the amount was substantial.

I dumped the bullets out of the pearl-handled revolver into the trash can.

Maybe I could save someone else's life today too.

*****************************

I counted the money I'd taken from him as I got on the elevator.

There was a young woman with a small child already riding it down. The little girl was ill-clothed and terribly thin - a victim of our recent rush to embrace Capitalism.

She looked at me and smiled in the way only a child can - without guile.

"Is she an angel, Mama?"

"No dear," the woman said and chuckled, looking at me apologetically.

"She looks like an angel, Mama. Are you sure?"

I knelt down and took the little girl's hand in mine.

"I will be an angel for you," I stuffed the money in the child's coat pocket, "if you promise that you will be an angel for someone else who is hungry."

"No ... Please ... we couldn't," the woman protested, but my stern look and the size of the bulge of the cash made her reconsider. It was a very large amount.

Then she recognized who I was: "Oh!" she gasped and pulled the child away from me.

"Promise me," I said to the woman.

"I promise," the mother replied, tears filling her eyes, "I swear to God."

"Me too, me too!" the little girl cried sweetly and eagerly tugged on her mother's frayed overcoat for attention.

"Speak nothing of the source of the money," I said to the woman, "understand?"

"Of course!" she stammered, "I don't want trouble - with anyone."

She must have realized she would die if my Father found out.

Ironically, that fear would make her get rid of it as fast as she could, thus ensuring others benefitted from my Father's unwitting generosity as well.

When he'd fucked my throat this time, I'd still tasted the caviar, but this time I could taste the one part of the flavor I hadn't accepted before ... raw callousness ... the kind of callousness that could consume a thousand little lives before they even had a chance to begin.

I could finally understand the appeal of it, but I couldn't let myself succumb to it.

"Thank you." I said sincerely.

I understood now that fear was a weapon - maybe I could use it to accomplish something good.

*****************************

Lev was outside, in the snow by the car. He was standing in a relaxed form of 'parade rest' with his hands behind his back. He was outlined by the dark grey morning sky.

When he saw me, a look of expectation crossed his face.

Somehow, everything came together in my mind at that instant. He'd been waiting to see which of us came out of the building.

Maybe he wanted both of us dead.

That was the Russian way: 'The closer to the Czar - the closer to death'.

"Elenya?"

He'd told my father where to find Vivian to hurt me - so he'd hurt her and make me want to kill him.

"I'm glad to see you ... are you alright?" he asked, feigning sincerity

He'd fucked me to earn my trust and to find out where Vivian was. Then he'd taken me to the Ball to see Vivian to anger my father - to make him want to kill me.

"Do you need help?"

He'd shown me how to use the hair pin as a weapon. If I failed it wouldn't matter to him - it wouldn't look like he'd planned it. If I succeeded, then I would be his only loose end. In our world, loose ends always ended up floating in the Neva.

Either way he was engineering my death.

"Whore!" my father screamed from the doorway behind me.

Lev pulled a pistol from his waistband and aimed it at my father.

"And you!" he pointed the giant revolver at Lev in return, "You fucking traitor!"

He was wearing only his tracksuit pants and steam was rising from his body in the cold air. He hadn't dressed for the cold but he'd remembered to bring his gun with him.

"She's mine to kill!" Father shouted.

"Chominkov, wait!" Lev said to him.

"Fuck you, Lev, you're next!"

He pointed the pistol at my face and pulled the trigger.

CLACK!

The hammer fell on an empty chamber.

CLACK!

I stumbled back and fell to the ice covered sidewalk in shock.

CLACK!

I looked up at my father and down the barrel of his pistol - the chambers were still empty. I ignored the gun and looked into my father's eyes.

CLACK!

I knew the look.

CLACK!

The problem with the look in his eyes was that there wasn't a look.

CLACK!

"Thank you for my Birthday gift, Father, It's very nice," I said.

The gun shook wildly in his hand but his eyes were steady.

CLACK!

I slowly pulled the hair pin out of my hair and held the gift up for my father to see.

"See, isn't it beautiful?"

"What is that?" he asked.

Then realization hit him, "Lev picked that up for you. I didn't know ... ."

Lev cocked the hammer of his pistol.

"Fucker!" he spat at the henchman.

My father lowered his gun in resignation and sat down hard on the frozen curb next to me.

"I'm in charge now, Vasily," Lev announced, "This is your retirement."

Father looked at me calmly, a look of sadness in his eyes. There was another look too. The look of a man who was finally going to find out whether or not there was a hell ... It was a look of fear.

"You know what to do, right?" he asked me.

I nodded.

"You know how to survive now," he smiled at me, "At least I've taught you that much."

"Yes."

"It's a dangerous life, you know."

"Isn't it, Papa?"

He nodded and turned his face to me as if to kiss me.

I stabbed the pin into his brain through his eye socket.

The eye burst and splashed my hand as I scrambled his brains, jerking the pin back and forth inside his skull.

His body lost function and floated to the sidewalk like a dropped scarf.

Spurts of blood from the wound shot into the air and splattered Lev and the side of the car as his body tumbled over.

Unphased, Lev knelt down next to me and cocked the Makarov under my chin ... the one he'd taken from me earlier. Now he intended it to look like a murder-suicide by shooting me with my own gun.

"Elenya, I'm sorry ... ."

I stabbed him through the chest before he could finish his sentence. I thrust with my palm on the round butt of the pin with my arm inline with my elbow - just like he'd demonstrated last night. It hurt my hand like hell but it truly was effective.

He'd made the mistake of trying to taunt me when he should have been pulling the trigger.

A look of shock crossed his face and he fell on me, pinning me to the frozen sidewalk where he twitched a few times and died.

He smelled like leather and gun-oil.

*****************************

I turned over to get up, rolling his body off of me into the street between the curb and the rear tire of the car, next to my Father's still twitching corpse.

A small crowd started to gather in the street on the other side of the car. I could hear their horrified voices closing in on me.

Suddenly, there was the sound of squealing tires, car doors slamming, and then there were huge hands lifting me into a warm waiting car.

****************************

Kiska watched me in the backseat from the driver's rearview as we skidded through the frozen streets. Her face was splattered with blood but she wore a smug look of satisfaction.

"You are safe now, Mistress Elenya," Don Fernando 'The BullKiller' DelToro whispered to me in English.

I sat up tall and proud and put on a face I'd practiced with Kiska ... a haughty and cruel mask.

"I want to see Vivian, now!"

"You speak English ... very good!"

DelToro looked at the driver expectantly, a giant dark-suited Spaniard with claw mark tattoos on his cheeks.

"Dime en Inglés ... where is my Daughter, Andreas? "

The giant was brutally ugly but seemed kind enough when he spoke.

"At the airport, Sir. We will be meeting her and the Americans in Amsterdam."

"Very well," DelToro said. He turned back to me. "You understand what I expect of you when we get there."

He ran his hand up my leg under the fur coat.

"She told me ... that I will marry one of the Americans."

"You will become a Fitzgerald, they are out of Chicago. You and my Daughter are sisters now. You will be my Sobrina - my niece - by marriage.""

"Do you touch all of your nieces this way?"

He grabbed my bloody face and turned it up to him.

"I will do with you as I please," he growled.

"The hell you will!" I replied.

I pushed his hand away.

"I'll fucking kill you too!" I looked him in the eyes, "If you want to fuck me you better be more of a gentleman about it."

He let go of my face and roared with genuine laughter: "I believe you would!"

Andreas interrupted us.

"Did you know that the man you just killed ... what was his name? Lev? Did you know he was wearing a bullet-proof vest?" the driver asked.

"No," I replied.

"That thing you used on him is the only type of hand weapon that can penetrate a bullet proof vest," he said. "To hit a man's heart through a vest says much about you ... about your strength."

"Lev knew his craft. I'm sure that he intended for me to use it on my Father. Maybe he thought my father would be armored as well."

Deltoro roared with laughter.

"She is fucking clever, is she not?" he asked Andreas.

Then he turned to me.

"He was Vympel - they are like the CIA," DelToro continued. "He was ordered to kill your father but he set you up to do it instead. I suppose, that it's their way of doing business. As a tribute to your wits - you seemed to have concluded that already."

"By your orders?"

"At my daughter's request," he shrugged apologetically, "I didn't know he would put you in harm's way."

"I want to see her, now!"

"Find us a hotel in Holland," he told Andreas. "Let our people know that Mrs. Fitzgerald will keep Vasily's family name for business purposes and will be addressed as Elenya 'La Esgrimidora' Chominkov," he looked at my sideways, "and I shall speak on her behalf in all affairs."

My Father's businesses were his now by right.

A line from a song by some popular British band ran through my mind at that moment: "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss."

"What's your nickname, Andreas?" I asked the driver.

"I don't like nicknames," he replied.

I guess I could understand why.

"You have earned your name today, Mistress Elenya," Andreas said quietly. "You are now 'The Swordsman'."

He smiled at Kiska in the mirror.

"I think I actually like that name," Kiska replied as DelToro slid his hand back under the Chinchilla and caressed my thigh.