Chapter Text
The dimly lit alleyway was a haven for the likes of Roxy Monke and her crew, a place where they could move unseen and strike without warning. The air was thick with the stench of garbage and desperation, the flickering fluorescent lights above casting an eerie glow over the crumbling pavement. Roxy's electric skein organ, nestled in the hollow of her collarbone, hummed with anticipation, its tendrils quivering like a living thing.
She pushed through the throng of patrons, her eyes locked on the stoic bouncer standing guard outside the cheesy bar. His massive frame seemed carved from granite, his face a mask of unyielding indifference. Roxy's gaze lingered on the badge pinned to his lapel, the words "Vinnie 'The Bull' LaRosa" emblazoned in bold letters.
Roxy's hand itched with a familiar tingle as she raised it, her electric skein organ responding with a burst of electricity that crackled and spat in front of Vinnie's face. The bouncer's eyes flickered, but his expression remained a stony mask.
"How much you get paid to stand there, love?" Roxy asked, her voice low and husky, the words dripping with menace.
Vinnie's jaw clenched, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Now enough, love," he growled, his voice like a low rumble of thunder.
The bouncer's eyes never left hers as he stepped aside, his massive frame parting like a gate to let them pass. Roxy's eyes seemed to flash with amusement as she stepped aside, her crew following close behind.
Inside, the bar was a riot of color and noise, the air thick with the smell of cheap beer and stale cigarettes. Roxy's gaze swept the room, her eyes locking onto the figure of Bill, the owner, a sly grin spreading across his face as he flirted with a waitress.
His hand rested on her hips, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the fabric of her uniform. Roxy's eyes narrowed as she closed in, her crew melting into the background as she approached the pair.
"Beat it, love," Roxy spit at the waitress, her voice low and deadly, the words dripping with menace.
The waitress's eyes flickered, her face pale as she tried to protest, but Roxy's grip on her shoulder was quite and with a crackling sound, a spark slammed into the waitress's skin, her eyes widening in shock as she stumbled back. The air was heavy with the stench of ozone and singed cloth as the waitress gritted her teeth, taking the hint.
Everybody around knew that by Roxy's standards, this was a loving reminder, nothing else.
But Bill, that slippery eel, was not so easily intimidated. He didn't flinch, his eyes locked on Roxy's, a sly grin still plastered on his face.
"Roxy, love," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Always a pleasure. What can I get for you?"
Roxy's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched in a snarl as she regarded the man. She knew that look, that tone. He was pushing her, testing her limits. And she was more than happy to oblige. Her eyes seemed to bore into Bill's soul as she demanded, her voice low and menacing,
"The green. Now."
For a moment, Bill's grin faltered, and he looked taken aback. But then, his face smoothed out, and he launched into a smooth, oily speech. "Roxy, love, I'm happy to help out, but I'm a busy man, and I need a little time to, uh, 'rearrange' my finances. Can't you see I'm in the middle of something here?"
Roxy's gaze never wavered, her eyes fixed on Bill's face like a hawk on its prey. The air around her seemed to vibrate with tension as her skein organ under her tank top, began to glow a soft blue. The light was almost imperceptible, but it seemed to seep from deep within her core, casting an eerie glow over Bill.
Without a word, Roxy's hand lurched forward, her fingers gripping into Bill's hips like a snake. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as she discharged a low hum of power into his flesh. Bill's eyes widened in shock, his face contorting in agony as his muscles seemed to give way beneath her grasp.
"Ah, bloody hell... Roxy, stop... damnit!" he cursed, the words tumbling out of his mouth like an insult.
Roxy's grip didn't waver, her hand still humming with power as she redirected Bill's stumbling form to a chair behind him. He collapsed onto the seat, his body crumpling in on itself like a puppet with its strings cut.
For a moment, Roxy stood over him, her chest heaving from the satisfying workout, her eyes blazing with anger. Then, she seemed to remember herself, and her expression smoothed out. "No one got injured," she said, her voice low and menacing. "Yet."
Bill's eyes flickered up to hers, his face pale and sweaty. Roxy's gaze never wavered, her eyes fixed on his face like a challenge.
"The green," she repeated, her voice cold and hard. "Now."
Bill's eyes darted back and forth, his face a mask of desperation as he searched for mercy in Roxy's face. "Please, Roxy, I'm telling you, I've had trouble with the cops, they're breathing down my neck, I need to lay low for a bit. And my kid just got a dental brace, I need to pay for that, and I'm on a tight budget... I'll do anything, just please don't hurt me."
Roxy's eyes seemed to bore a hole into his soul, her shoulders glowing now visibly blue in the dim bar, illuminating the desperation that had settled on Bill's face. Bill's eyes widened as he realized that Roxy didn't buy his excuses, that she was powering up, and by the brightness of her glow, he was in utmost danger of his very life.
He was out of words, his mind racing in a desperate bid to think of something, anything, to save himself. But it was too late. Roxy's eyes seemed to see right through him, to the very heart of his soul.
As the silence stretched out, Roxy spoke, her voice cold and detached. "The Monke family is reasonable within limits," she said, her words dripping with menace. "A missed payment? No problem. Bought your booze from the wrong dealer? We find a solution. You pay up later, with interest. This is business after all."
"But. You have failed us too often," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You have talked too much. You have dissed the Monke family. And now, you have failed to pay your respects. The green."
Her voice was a threat, a whispered promise of pain and suffering. "The green," she repeated, her eyes never leaving Bill's face. "Now."
Bill's face contorted in a mixture of fear and despair, he begged helplessly, to spare his life. "Please, Roxy, don't kill me, don't hurt me, I'll do anything, just please..." His voice cracked as he started to cry, great sobs wracking his body.
Roxy's expression softened, and she reached out with both hands to caress Bill's cheeks. Her touch was gentle, almost loving, as she spoke in a soothing voice. "I'm not a monster, Bill. I'm a businesswoman. I do what needs to be done to protect my interests, but I'm not a killer."
Her hands moved down Bill's chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the limpness in his pants, her eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and calculation. Not much manliness left in Bill. "Killing my business partners is bad for business," she said, her voice still soft. "It creates uncertainty, instability. And that's not good for anyone."
But her tone changed in an instant, dropping to ice-cold as her hands slid down to Bill's knees. She pressed her index finger into the soft tissue on the back of his knee, her eyes glinting with a cold light. "You, however, will serve as an example," she said, her voice dripping with menace. "A reminder to those who think they can cross the family and get away with it. You will be a lesson in the consequences of failure."
The patrons at the bar watched in horror as Roxy's skein flashed brightly, gasps of shock rippled through the crowd as the lights illuminated the veins in Roxy's arms, like blue-green snakes slithering beneath her skin. The air was electric with tension as the audience held its collective breath.
And with a silent but sick crackling sounded from behind Bill's legs, as Roxy sent her agonizing, punishing discharge right into his nerves. This nerve attack was something she had seen on the net and wanted to try it for a time. What she lacked in finesse she made up with raw force, the frequency of her electricity well tuned to hurt as much as possible, and Bill's entire body seemed to scream in agony. His nerves felt like they were on fire, his skin charred and seared like he'd been skinned and boiled alive, his eyes rolled back and he was so surprised by the sheer agony that he even forgot to scream!
It felt like his bones fractured into a million needles, each one piercing his flesh like a hot knife. His muscles convulsed, his body contorting in ways that seemed humanly impossible. His face was a twisted mask of pain, his eyes bulging from their sockets as he screamed silently.
For to the audience, it seemed at first as if he was just spasming a bit, his body twitching in a faint convulsion. Then, his veins started to glow like Roxy's, a sickly blue-green light that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. Men shouldn't glow like that, and everybody who hadn't been living under a rock for years knew that Bill was having his payday, this was not just about the Monke family but a brutal and inhumane display of Roxy's dominance, she was a force, no, THE force to be reckoned with, and that those who crossed her would suffer the most terrible consequences.
The audience watched in terror as Roxy paused for a moment, her eyes locked on Bill's contorted form. Her voice broke the silence, dripping with malice. "Scream, little piggy," she spat, her words dripping with venom. Her skein flashed again, giving Bill something to scream about.
What followed was even worse than the silence before. Bill's screams were like the end of days, a cacophony of terror that sent shivers down the spines of every patron in the bar. The sound was like nothing anyone had ever heard before, a raw, animalistic wail that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
As Roxy continued to electrocute him, the audience was transfixed in horror, unable to look away. They were witness to a display of power that was both mesmerizing and terrifying, a demonstration of Roxy's mastery over the male body.
The message was clear: don't mess with the Monke's. Or to be more precise, don't mess with Roxy. She was to be feared, from a family with power, her own power even beyond comprehension. And anyone who dared to cross them would suffer the same fate as Bill
---
As Roxy and her gang stepped out of the bar, the cool night air hit them like a slap in the face. Roxy cracked her fingers, releasing a small spark of electricity into the air. "That was fun," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.
One of her blokes, shook his head. "Blimey, Roxy, do you think Bill will ever walk again?"
Roxy's expression turned dry. "If I did everything alright, he won't be walking for a couple of days, and he'll have a shitload of pain for a couple of weeks."
The new chick in the group, a petite woman with a pierced nose, spoke up. "It's like breaking his knees, but with less visible damage and much more pain."
The bloke looked at her in awe. "Where did you learn that, love?"
The chick smiled sweetly. "We have seen it on Mother Eve's Substack. She's got a whole page dedicated to...ahem...'alternative methods' of persuasion."
Roxy laughed, a throaty sound. "Yes, I was generously ignoring her warning about overdoing it."
The bloke looked at Roxy with a mixture of fascination and fear. "You're bloody terrifying, Roxy."
Roxy just grinned, her eyes glinting with amusement. "That's why you love me, innit?"