ON YOUR KNEES, DON

The Danco Casino!

As we go in, I am utterly rustled by an overwhelming sense of dread, but my desire to learn the menacing secrets encoded here propels me on.

“So, what exactly are we doing here, Irma?” Mary quizzes in a hushed tone as we enter the club.

My eyes get restless as we search for a table. In my thoughts, my sister's voice is fervently echoing, beseeching me not to give up on this mission. My eyes fail to pick up anything strange, as always, and we finally settle down in the middle of this God-cursed casino.

She was last spotted here in this casino on the ill-fated night she vanished two weeks ago. She was the last of the thirty females to be victimized by the unidentified creature—the evil that has been roaming in this city for months now.

Nobody knows this monster, and if there is, then they are too scared to the core to even whisper the monster’s name in their sleep. But I am daring to unmask every single secret just to find my sister.

“You know why we are here, Mary,” I say.

“Yes. But I don't get it, Irma. Why do you keep coming here even when you know that no single soul is willing to say anything to you?” Mary speaks again.

“That is the point, Mary. The workers here are scared to hell the minute you bring up this issue. One thing is clear: something is fishy.” I respond.

“How long, though, do you intend to continue doing this, Irma? I mean, coming here every day and getting nothing at the end of it. Why don't you reroute your search somewhere else?” Mary again, and she is beginning to aggravate my demons.

I lean on the table, ready to send this friend of mine back home if she does not want to help me, but I restrain myself when two glasses of wine are brought down in front of us.

We have not ordered anything, as far as I can recall.

I raise my head, and I don’t have to struggle so much as a male figure perches on the third seat around our table. “I would listen to your friend if I were you.” My ears are tickled by Don Emilio's irritating hush grumble.

Him? Here at our table?

He is the owner of this damn casino, as far as I know, and he is supposedly busier than a bee. None of my efforts to speak to him have bore any fruit. I was only allowed to speak to some futile security fools who were just a total waste of time. And now, the mountain just moved itself to Mohamed? And with some trash of alcohol as what? A token of sympathy or a peace offering?

And what’s that he said again?

I am aware that there is no link whatsoever between any of the other girls' abductions and that of my sister. The sole connection among these disappearances is that none of the victims come from prominent families. They come from middle-class and poor backgrounds and are all girls of various ages.

They all vanished from different locations.

My sister, however, has disappeared from here. This was her last spot before she went missing. From this dreadful club, she placed her last call, informing me that she was being hunted. Her line was cut before she could finish what she was saying, and that was the last time I heard from her. So, if not here, where else should I focus my search?

“I heard they call you the Don, so it's a pleasure to meet you, Don Emilio!” I remark bluntly because his facial idioms suggest that he is not here for anything good.

“Unfortunately, I can't say the same about you.” He responds in a harsh tone full of loathing.

More than his unnerving tone, I detest the iciness in his ugly eyes and his cold countenance. It's like he is trying to scare me out of here or something.

“In our very first encounter, Mr. Don, why so much hatred?” I query, fixing my eyes on his cold ones.

He leans across the table, our faces coming so close as he bleeds his unnerving aura onto me. “Your frequent visit to my club is beginning to piss me off. I came to offer you your first and last drink at my club. Don't come back if you know what’s good for you!” His baritone is despotic, the tremor in it adding more fear, but I ain't just giving up.

“I have not caused any trouble, Don. The club is open to all, right? So, why forbid me from coming here? Are you scared that I might uncover something?” I speak, refusing to submit to his dominant gaze.

“It's already trouble enough having you here. Since this is my casino, I have the authority to determine who is and is not permitted entry.” He says his ears and eyes are starting to flush with redness.

Why is he getting so worked up by my being here if there is nothing they are hiding?

“When I was begging for even just a minute of your time, you refused to spare me even a second. But today, you didn't even let me ask for you. That speaks volumes to me, Don.” I state.

“I had and still have absolutely nothing to say to you, Miss Irma. I offered you the best help that I could, though. If it wasn't enough, then that is not my problem. Stop obsessing over my casino!”

Obsession? It is the life of my sister at stake here, and he calls this an obsession?

“Maybe I am obsessing over this because there indeed is some clue here, and your actions prove me right, Mr. Don Emilio. I don't see why my presence would bother you if you are not hiding something.” I affirm, and I can feel my rage rising up. I am shaking with range.

He cannot kick me out of here. This is my only hope to know where my sister is and what exactly happened to her.

“My security personnel told you all there is to know. I understand your grief and determination to find your missing sister, but you won't find anything here. Just leave and don't show your shadow here ever again.” He orders and racks to his feet.

And I spring with lightning speed, joining him up. A gesture that stops him in his tracks and disrupts the attention of people in the club. “I am sorry, Don, but I won't give up on the only chance I have to find out what happened to my sister.” I stand my ground.

“This is not your work, young lady. Leave the investigation to the police and stick to your lane.” Don Emilio says as he bores his eyes on me. They are an inferno of rage and authority.

Oh, the police? What have the inept police done so far? All of the other females' tales came to a dead end. And all they ever say about my sister's case is that they are working on it. At this point, I'm worried that if I don't take action, my sister's case will end up being just another lost cause.

I won't permit that to happen! No!

“Well, it seems like the police aren't helping. Do you know why that is so, Mr. Don?” I query, a very worrying sense crossing my thoughts.

And his smirk as he leans toward my face makes me want to believe my instincts.

“Since you think you are a smartass, why don't you figure that out on your way out?” He whispers in a tone that irks my demons.

His confidence stinks, but it also speaks volumes.

“You don’t want me to expose your dirty laundry to the media, Don Emilio! In my capacity as a journalist, I have sway over the public. And we all know how much damage the public’s influence can cause. Don't forget that! And yes, you may be right. I will leave the police to do their work, but I also have to do what I must! This isn't the last time we will see each other!” I turn around, grabbing Mary’s hand as we turn on our heels.

Two paces away, Emilio beastly grabs my hand and pulls me back. I turn around, and as we face each other, our faces nearly touch. If it was the sense of rage and loathing that I saw earlier on his face, then I am dubious about how to interpret this current demeanor. It is more lethal. Extremely creepy.

He leans closer, feeding me the heat of his rage as he makes sure that his remarks are intended solely for my ears.

“You're walking down a very dangerous path, young lady! You won't like how this turns out in the end. Never say that I did not warn you!” As he storms away, he flashes me a menacing smile that leaves me speechless and puzzled.

A dangerous path? What does he mean?

“Bestie? We are interrupting the mood here. We better go.” Mary says.

I cruise the corner of my eyes around the busy casino, and I realize that all eyes are on us. Up the stairs that lead to the next floor, I lock my eyes with the don. He is standing there, his hands dipped in his pockets, and his entire being is banked on me as if assessing my next move.

Well, there is probably nothing I can get from here yet again. I need to try some other way to find my sister. But you and this cursed casino aren't off the hook, you moron! For all I know, you have given me more reasons to suspect this place.

I turn to leave while contemplating how to start my next move, but I must have been so absorbed in my thoughts that I failed to realize that I was in an extremely busy area. I bump into a waitress, and neither of us succeeds in stopping her from dropping. Drinks splash on us as they crash to the ground, and broken glass shards scatter all over the floor.

Shit! For heaven's sake, why didn't I look where I was going?

“I am so sorry, miss. Gosh! I am so sorry.” I apologize as I go down on my knees and assist the poor waitress in gathering the broken shards of glass.

“It's okay. It is my fault. I wanted this to happen!” I snap my eyes at her, abandoning my mission of helping her. But she adds. “Act normal. Don't stare at me and don't speak.” She speaks in a very low tone.

I embark on helping her again, curiosity itching me as to why she would want such a mishap to happen.

I lost track of where my hands were landing on the floor once more as my distracted thoughts continued to stray off in a different direction. I find my hand brushing hers on the floor. I was just about to take my hand away and apologize when she held my hand and pinned something to my palm.

While our other hands are occupied tidying up the mess, I gently drag my eyes to see what it is.

A piece of paper.

“Take this and leave.” She mutters again, and whatever this piece contains, I have a feeling that it is something helpful.

I would like to thank her, but I can't. I hug the ball-like piece of paper in my palm, my heart throbbing with a ray of hope and anxiety.

“Won't you get into trouble with this?” I ask before standing up.

“Just go! Hurry!” She says, her eyes fixed on the floor to avoid arousing suspicions.

I pull myself up and hike out of the casino as fast as I can, with Mary struggling to catch up with me.

I cringe as a chilling breeze slaps my face outside, but I don't have time for the chill. Mary gets into the passenger seat as I jump behind the wheel.

I peel my palm and take the paper. I unfolded it.

There are only four scripted words on it:

TOMORROW, 9 AM. HERE!

"What does this mean?" Mary asks, scanning my face. "Do you think something is happening here tomorrow?" She adds.

The same questions are banging on my head. What could be happening here tomorrow?