Bloodshed - A Dark Star Tale Pt. 01

"So, Will..." Macro stood from behind his desk indicating their brief meeting was over, "...As a family man I assume you'll not be interested in any company this evening."

"Company?" Will innocently responded.

"The Dark Star has always operated on the fringes ...I wasn't sure I approved myself at first but then I saw the revenues made... sex as they say sells... our private rooms and the entertainment they provide are yours should you wish."

Taken a back a little as he read between the lines of the thinly veiled offer, he realised that he really had no idea what this place was genuinely all about, let alone who Marco Mancini really was.

"Family man..." Will offered to the exchange again in reiteration and to avoid the complication, choosing himself to ignore the two recent liaisons with the Escort at the offices "...That's not for me."

"Admirable Will admirable ...so tell me then ... who was that beautiful creature with you at the bar?"

"Maya," Will offered up immediately knowing it was unlikely that he referred to Flick. "Maya Cruz, she works for me."

"Maya Cruz..." Mancini repeated back to him "...An exotic name for an exotic looking girl... I saw how you were looking at her though Will... even for a Family Man."

"Who wouldn't?" Will offered keen to move the subject away from Maya, keen to move the subject on completely. Not least as he was unsure of his genuine feelings for her himself. The conflict their brief but slightly flirtatious exchange of only a half an hour or so ago had caused him at the time was probably best left and not dwelt on, but like Marco Mancini it seemed he couldn't ignore her.

"So, she's single?"

"I believe she's a boyfriend," Will manufactured the lie to detract him, in truth he also realised that he had no idea of her personal circumstances. "Besides... you've a Fiancé."

Mancini fixes him with a grin as he led the way towards the office door.

"I drive a Ferrari Will... it doesn't mean I don't occasionally admire a Porsche."

**********

"This place is all just a little too hectic ...it's far too busy" Flick offered as Will found himself trapped sat in the booth between her and Gary Wilson. The two Slovenian's were still out on the dance floor, as was Greg Franklyn, which led Will to ponder if it was Mila or Una that Greg was sniffing after, perhaps both. To be fair it was all Will could do not go and join them, and he hated dancing with a passion.

"£5.50 for a fucking pint and all," Gary interjected his own critique although that hadn't stopped him sinking five pints that Will alone knew of since his arrival.

Maya had made excuses and left a little over half an hour ago, he'd barely caught back up with her on returning from Mancini's office an hour or so ago. Seemingly she'd bumped into an old friend on the other side of the club. He didn't blame her. Whoever the old friend had been her company must have been infinitely better company than the three of them. Will was too polite to leave but too bored to stay. The club fascinated him, but this was of a different era, perhaps though he'd rely on Marco's VIP perks when next looking to arrange a night out with the small group of friends he managed to hold down and meet up with now very irregularly.

"I'm going for a piss," Gary rather proudly announced. Will considered that all that lager had to go somewhere as the scruffy brute got up and stumbled through the crowd. Gary paused only to blatantly ogle two young girls stood to the side of the VIP Bar. The unheard no doubt crass comment he offered to them drew only looks of disdain and giggles of laughter as they both seemed to mock his attention of them while edging away.

"I'm going to head off Flick," Will turned to the red head.

"Really?" she said genuinely a little surprised as she dropped her head a little to her shoulder while she looked at him "Are you sure?"

"A five-year-old and a six-year-old will be wanting my time in around five hours ... I'm shattered anyway." Will offered, "Just well ...how do I put this ... I don't want to leave you here with Gary."

Flick smirked, "Aww don't you worry about little old me... I can handle the likes of Gary Wilson... I'm a lot tougher than people think you know."

"I'm sure you are," Will countered. "Just you know... well he's a bit of a..."

"Bit of a what?" Flick looked at me with a little scorn I noted.

"Let's just say I see why everyone thinks he's a creepy fucker," Will stated honestly.

"Pffft none of it ... he's harmless ...wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Flick among your many qualities that's what I like about you ... you see the best in everyone."

She smiled at me flushing a little embarrassed and quickly grabbed the red cocktail from the glass in front of her taking a long sip as if you cool her flushed face.

"Thank you," she offered. "That ...that means so much."

It seemed an overreaction on her behalf but like many of my employees perhaps I don't pay Flick the praise she rightly deserves. "Just take care of yourself then..." Will offered raising himself from his seat "...say goodbye to the others for me will you."

"Will do," she cheerily stated as she set down her drink on the table before her.

Will looked back briefly as he pushed through the crowds, the Dark Star only seemed to be getting busier as the night wore on, as he caught her eye Flick offered a little wave before his line of sight was obstructed by the throng of bodies in the venue.

Stepping outside into cool night air, the fresh air seemed to immediately stir a hunger in his belly. Will realised he hadn't eaten properly since lunch time. There was only one thing for it at this time of the night after a couple of drinks.

Five minutes later he stood outside 'Istanbul Kebabs' with a polystyrene tray in his hands picking out strips of poor-quality lamb nestled between insipid salad and doused in chilli sauce and garlic mayo that had been liberally applied to no doubt to add flavour or disguise the poor-quality meat. As a Butcher at heart, he didn't want to think what constituted the meat shaved from the elephant's leg that spun before the gas griddle in the takeaway window. Not least because irrespective of ingredients the taste was fucking amazing.

Looking down the street towards the main road that ran through the City he finished what he wanted and ditched the untouched pitta and grease covered salad in a bin to his left. Headed down the street strewn with litter and lined with a plethora of takeaways shops to his left and strip clubs to his right.

Of all the luck as he reached the end of the street a private hire cab pulled up and two blondes in tight short black dresses spilled out of the back of the cab. Heading straight for a fried chicken joint, obviously classy girls.

"You free mate?" Will enquired leaning through the back passenger door that had been left wide open.

"Yes, yes jump in," the Asian driver confirmed. "Quickly quickly I not supposed to pick up off street."

Will clambered into the back seat of the car pulling the door closed on him as he gave the driver his rural address, which the driver had to plug into his Sat Nav with a clear warning that this was, "Not a cheap journey Mister."

Will offered to pay upfront but the Driver obviously trusted him as he pulled the Taxi into the steady Friday night flow of traffic. A little way along the road Will spotted Flick sat at a bus stop as they cruised past her. Looking back through the rear window as she sat there alone, he considered asking the driver to pull over, but realised they were already in a filter lane that headed towards the Ring Road and the dual carriageway out of the city.

Will felt for her a little, then reasoned that at least she wasn't with Gary Wilson.

**********

**********

Maya lay there across the white sheets of the bed her chest rising and falling, her breath only now coming back under control. In the heat of the room her dark skin glistened with sweat from physical exertion.

Turning her head towards him as he lay there in the bed next to her.

She shivered as his fingers gently traced over her sensitive nipples. Momentarily she closed her eyes appreciating the sated feeling that coursed through her whole body.

Their passion had been intense.

No sooner had they entered the apartment than they'd been tearing clothes from one another, she smirked realising she still wore the boots he'd so heavily complimented early in the evening.

He'd led her willingly to the bedroom she now found herself in

This wasn't her this wasn't her normal self but something about him, something about the way he looked at her from the outset.

It had been unexpected; he'd stripped her defences and her usual control as ruthlessly as he'd stripped her of her dress.

His touch, his control had made her feel alive.

"I'm afraid I can't stay," Marco Mancini stated as he lay there next to her. "I have to be somewhere."

"It's ...it's Ok," Maya parked her emotions not wanting to believe this was just a passionate but ultimately meaningless encounter. "I should get home myself."

"You said you had no one waiting for you."

"Not like that but..." Maya stated softly, "...It's complicated."

**********

**********

Felicity Bowerman pulled desperately hard at the crude rough ropes wrapped tightly around her wrists in the darkness.

Pulling hard as she felt her body dragged down across her own bed stretching her arms out before her.

"Don't fight this ... I'm not going to hurt you." the words echoed through the small bedroom; she screwed her eyes shut drawing a shuddering breath into her frail body.

Craning her neck back over her shoulder in the darkness of the room she opened her eyes but couldn't see her perpetrator. Not properly in the darkness anyway, and certainly not without her glasses which she could just about make out on the bedside table where she'd put them. A silhouette glimpsed against the light from the hallway was all she could discern.

She felt his strong grip on her left ankle pulling her leg towards the corner of the bed, panic filled her yet for all she wanted to struggle every thought running through her head seemed to confuse her, to stupefy her. She felt her left leg secured as tightly as her wrists. The vice like grip took her right ankle and she found herself restrained, face down on the bed in no time at all.

"Good girl ... good girl ...just hold tight while I..."

She had no idea what was used as it was slipped over her head, but the makeshift gag was pulled back against her lips with such veracity that she had no choice in the matter, her mouth parted involuntarily, and her head was lifted sharply from the bed by the quick brutal act.

The gag tied around the back of her neck she felt her skirt pushed up, she had no choice, she had no way to prevent what was happening now, the sharp short sound of her tights being torn open filled her ears then the feeling of cool air across her exposed buttocks distracted her.

"Relax for me ...just relax for me little one."

She felt her body pinned to the mattress by strong hands on the backs of her shoulders she screwed her eyes tightly shut as she felt him between her legs.

Her fate was inevitable.

With the taste of the already damp material of the gag in her mouth she pulled on her restraints once again as she felt him roughly enter her.

Five minutes later her aching broken body lay tied across the bed as he slipped his dick from her raw vagina, she could feel the thick heavy deposit between her legs.

She longed to force it from her, but she lay there letting the putrid deposit seep into her body.

The deposit which punctuated what had just happened to her.

What would happen to her repeatedly before he set her free.

Chapter Four - Delivery Schedule

The grey sky threatened rain as Will.

Marchant looked out across the car park from the atrium in the main reception. He'd arrived earlier than usual but yet still had been unable to beat Flick to the office. Sipping the coffee she'd made him from a white mug bearing the cartoon logo of 'Chop the Pig' a mascot of Marchants from the 1980's. Several crates of the mugs had been unearthed when they'd moved premises 8 years ago. A number had been kept for prosperity and nostalgia. Perhaps with what was about to commence today Will darkly considered that perhaps Chop would be better off reimagined with a large needle in his hand as opposed to a meat cleaver. It would be highly Controversial but was it anymore controversial than a cartoon pig wielding a cleaver, there were overtures of murderous cannibalism to 'Chop the Pig.'

Will looked back out beyond the metal wire fence that lined the car park. His eye line soon slowly sweeping from left to right as the familiar figure of the early morning auburn haired jogger headed past at a reasonable pace. She was today seemingly clad in all black Lycra leggings and a black vest with a large white Nike swoosh diagonally wrapped around her midriff up around her side and on to her back. He was too far away to truly appreciate her figure today. Scorning himself for the inner pervert that she stirred within him, he equally smiled to himself while watching her reach the far right of his peripheral vision out through the window.

Draining the last of the black coffee from the mug Will pushed back from the low glass barrier of the atrium balcony, spotting as he did Maya Cruz's silver BMW 1 Series pull up to the main security gates. He was surprised to see her back in the offices yet again, did she spend any time face to face with customers either selling or up selling their brand? His mind quickly slipping back to their conversation of Friday night just past, he didn't dwell long though as the conversation had seemingly been just that. A misconstrued chat after a drink or two that hadn't been followed up on by either of them, even on the night. He'd be foolish to push the issue or follow up the circumstances either way. Best their relationship was kept as one that was purely professional. Will had made all of these conclusions on the vague notion and assumption that off the back of one snatched conversation she'd even have been interested in him, not least paying any consideration to the Wife and family he'd left at home. That his mind wandered so frequently to alternatives to Kelly was not so much a concern but indicative. That he had recently turned to an Escort to satisfy his needs was even more damning.

Approaching Flicks desk, she already seemed to be busy wading through a stack of unopened mail sat on the edge of her desk.

"Much for me?" Will enquired.

"A dozen or so in your name..." Flick offered a little more forlornly than she normally would.

"Everything alright Flick?" Will sincerely enquired.

"Yeah yeah..." she answered perhaps a little too quickly and a little too briskly, "...tired but..."

She trailed off the conversation leaving her sentence seemingly hanging. Will decided to change the subject. "So, did you have fun Friday?"

"Yeah," Flick offered once again an unusually down beat response for her, "Yeah it was good."

"Which reminds me ... I owe you an apology." Will offered looking back at her from the door of his office, she was simply dressed today in a pink V-neck sweater, a pair of grey check peddle pusher style trousers, with little brown brogues.

"Why's that?" She looked up at him with a genuinely confused expression.

"I passed you waiting at the bus stop when I was in a cab... had I seen you sooner I'd have asked the driver to have pulled up for you."

Her expression didn't alter even at receiving the explanation. She didn't respond.

"I guess you didn't stay long at the club after I left then?"

"No ...no ...not really," she was almost dismissive so Will gave up on the small talk.

"Can you let me know when my visitors arrive... they should be here for 9."

"Sure ...sure," Flick responded taking her mobile and checking a message that had vibrated a notification of its delivery on the front screen of her phone during their attempt at a conversation.

Will thought nothing more of it as he entered his office and closed the door behind him. He had more on his mind

**********

Box after Box of innocuous looking white boxes bearing the red printed logo of Marchants Meats stood stacked around them. Some stacked neatly on crates and others loosely strapped together only a couple of boxes high.

"If I didn't know I wouldn't be any the wiser," Will sincerely offered.

"That's the beauty and the simplicity of both the proposal and the solution provided by this operation," Marco Mancini offered to him.

The suave Italian stood at the loading bay doors that led onto the back of the refrigerated trailer of the Marchants vehicle.

Marcos diligent assistant introduced on their arrival as Antonio Diluca seemingly counted up the boxes, as if to audit the process or busy himself. It was clear Antonio held Marco in high esteem and spoke only when spoken to by his superior. Marcos other two employees; heavy set Eastern European's, Gregor and Dimitri who had been working at the processing plant since the back end of last week stood flanking them, akin to protection Will mused but unnecessarily so as around them the distribution end of the site carried on as much as it normally would. Briefly out the corner of his eye Will had spotted Gary Wilson pause and throw what he must have thought were surreptitious glances in their collective direction. Will didn't know why in his capacity as a Night Shift Manager he was even on site, especially given that overtime had been cancelled months ago in light of the crippling wage bill Marchants had to manage.

The group all stepped aside as a scruffy looking overweight employee rolled a paint scuffed Forklift truck with pallets of prime cuts and other products onto the back of the refrigerated vehicle.

Will silently cringed at the lack of respect for health and safety and the regulations their little assembled gathering flouted. Admittedly even he didn't wear protective footwear, as the area required, but he at least sported the loose-fitting bright pink high visibility tabard that fastened with Velcro over his navy shirt. Marco looked ready for a night out in a tailored white shirt and a pair of navy chinos that fit snugly, sock-less he wore tan suede loafers on his feet. It was a stylish look Will could never emulate but certainly fitted the Italians physical appearance and stature well.

"Our product goes on last." Antonio stated in the direction of the two burly Eastern European's. Will almost surprised to hear him speak without having sought permission.

"And is first delivered by the manifest?" Marco enquired to the skinny young looking Italian immediately checked through copies of the delivery manifests paperwork that Will recognised, the level of influence they already held over day-to-day operations was mildly disconcerting.

"Would they not best placed on first and delivered last," Will offered feeling the need to justify his presence.

"Will... in my experience lazy traffic police even if they pull a vehicle would prefer to check an empty or partially empty vehicle over one that is full," Marco stated watching over his shoulder as the Forklift backed away behind him. "But we will alternate a little from time to time because your concern is valid."

"You're the experts," Will responded gaining a rueful smile from his Italian associate.

"Trust us Will ... trust us."

Will Marchant could do nothing but trust them. He was in deep now. In deep from the outset. He had no idea what the contents of the boxes piled around him even contained. Perhaps he didn't want to know, perhaps he had every right to know but didn't want the further concern. Whatever narcotics sat disguised within the boxes of sausages and burgers around him and stacked at the three further shutter bay doors that lined this corner of the processing plant, they were all illegal. There was only so much plausible deniability he could claim, he had to trust Marco Mancini and his expertise in such matters. Whether he trusted Marco Mancini not to throw him under the wheels of a truck in the worst-case scenario was another matter altogether. It was too late now, no matter how much he'd decided initially that he would choose to ignore the clandestine operation he realised he couldn't, that it would be impossible.