On Your Knees, Don

The Big Bucks Casino!!!

I am utterly rustled by an overwhelming sense of dread as we go in, 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. My sister's voice is fervently echoing in my thoughts, 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 even 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, still restlessly cruising my eyes around the place.

"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.

Yeah. No one is willing to talk. Underline that. Because I believe she put it just right...they don't want to talk. But there is surely something dubious about this place.

"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 exertions to speak to him have bore any fruits. I was only allowed to speak to some futile security fools who were just but a total waste of time. And now, the mountain just moved itself to Mohamed? Just like that, 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, 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, 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 detest?" I query, fixing my eyes in his cold ones.

He leans across the table, our faces coming so close as he bleeds his unnerving aura on me. "Your frequent visit to my club is beginning to piss me off, young woman. I came to offer you your first and last drink in 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.

Is that a threat or what? Am I supposed to be scared? "I have not caused any trouble, Don. The club is open to all, right? So, why forbid only me from coming here? Are you scared that I might uncover something?" I speak, refusing to submit to his dominant gaze.

"It is already trouble enough having you here. Since this is my casino, I have the authority to determine who is and is not permitted entry. And I say that you are not allowed in here anymore." He says, his ears and eyes starting to flush with redness.

Why is he getting so worked up by me being here if there is nothing they are hiding? There sure is something I can get in here to fuel my search. My hunch cannot be wrong. It probably is no coincidence that my sister was right here when she made that call and disappeared. This place holds a secret that can help me find my sister and I am not backing down from knowing what it is.

"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 loathe 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 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 banging my head. What could be happening here tomorrow?

I stare blankly at my computer. My intention was to write an article about my missing sister and rekindle the insecurities and unrequited questions of the netizens about the mysteries once again, but my mind is blank, or maybe something strong is holding me back. Something strong is warning me about this.

I cruise my eyes around the small room. My small office in my house is decorated with photos of my missing sister. My best friend. My only sibling. The only family I ever knew and had.

'Where on earth are you, Stacy? Please help me find you.' I murmur to myself

'TOMORROW. 9 AM. HERE.'

The words ring in my head again, just like they did the whole night and the whole of today too. I stare at the paper again, rereading the words for the...

It is about an hour away from the auspicious nine after midday, but it feels like an eternity. I can't wait to find out the meaning of this message. What is happening at the casino tonight? What was that girl trying to tell me?

"Are you sure about this, Irma?" Mary asks, setting a cup of steaming coffee before me and sitting across from me.

"You can stay back if you want, Mary. I can do this alone." I respond, taking a sip of my coffee, which does not relax me like it usually does.

"Honestly, I have given it a lot of thought." I bank my curiosity on her as she continues, "I don't think you should go. You don't even know this lady. Everyone has been scared to death to give you even a slight bit of information, except this unknown lady. Don't you find it strange?" Mary says.

I furrow my brows, her words hitting the wrong side of me. Strange? The only thing I see here is a chance to find something, anything, about what happened to my sister. And at this point, even the tiniest bit of clue is crucial. So what she is trying to tell me hurts. "Look, I am not letting even a slight opportunity pass at this given time. I have not rested for two good freaking weeks, so however dangerous this is, I am going through with it." I retort.

She scoffs, throwing her hands in the air as if my turmoils and desperation mean nothing to her, "And what if this is a trap, huh? Have you thought about this whole thing from that perspective?"

"You can't say that for sure, too," I retort, and she now getting on my nerves. She has been with me all this time, so I expect her to be spontaneous and say, "Everything hangs on a 50-50 balance. And I am leaning on the positive side. I will take all the risks to find my sister, even if it means confronting death itself."

She narrows her eyes, looking at me with a rich tinge of disapproval. "I can't believe this," she sighs, trying to cloak her disapproval, but I am neither blind nor foolish. I can see it no matter how much she is trying to play it cool: "I am your friend, Irma, and..."

"And as my friend," I cut her off in anger, "I expect you to at least understand where I am coming from and why I have to do this. At least try to be understanding, if not supportive. You are beginning to sound and act like Dan, and I don't like it." I state this because Dan is another story for another day.

"What if we are right?" She asks. "What if this isn't the way to tackle this? Irma, what if that message means nothing, or worse, poses danger for you?"

"I said that I was taking all the risks," I state boldly, because there is no way I will buy her reasoning. I think I am the only one who understands the weight of losing my sister. Neither my friend nor my boyfriend understands me anymore. "I am going to that casino, and no one will stop me!" I state.

"Not even me?" Mary and I snap at the door where Dan, my cold, despotic boyfriend, racks. "What message are you talking about and where exactly are you going?"

I am not surprised at the sharp arrows of his menacing gazes at me as he draws near. We are no longer the couple that we used to be. We are no longer the people who were planning our wedding. Everything changed when my sister disappeared because he does not agree one bit with what I am doing. Sometimes I wonder if he even understands the grief I am going through.

"Hi, Daniel!" Mary courteously greets him, but the arrogant jerk doesn't even respond as he stands in front of me across the table.

He can be an annoying, egotistical jerk if he decides to be one. I still adore him, though. Deep inside, behind his haughtiness and beneath the coldness he emanates, lies a man whom I see a bright future with. That is, if he can put aside his egotism and display a modicum of empathy for what is happening to me right now.

His eyes are daring. They are emitting fire as they thrive deep into mine, and I avert them as I spring to my feet. I walk around the table with open arms to hug my boyfriend and sample a little bit of solace. But to my dismay, he raises a hand to stop me and takes two steps back to avoid my hug.

I suddenly halt in a stupor! I feel my bones tingle with an unfamiliar chill. I am petrified, and weirdly, the ground beneath me quakes.

We disagree on many things, notably this one, and have had endless disagreements. However, he never even once treated me in such a manner. His icy disposition was seldom to this extreme. I sag my shoulders in defeat and push down the choking pile that is obstructing my throat.

"Hun..."

"You still haven't answered my question, Irma! What is happening tonight?" He queries in a harsh tone that I don't like.

Is it Irma now? What in God's name happened to babe, my love, and all those sweet names he used to call me?

I took a deep breath to soothe my disorganized mind.

"I am going to the club. I found something that I think might lead me somewhere in my search for Stacy." I explain.

All I get in response is a frustrated glare as if I said something that riled his internal cool. Or some absurdity that makes no sense at all.

He slams his coat on the seat, scraping his head slightly before speaking.

"How many times have I told you to leave this to the authorities, huh? Why are you obstinate and bent on going against my warning?" He speaks in burst ire.

His outraged demeanor. His eyes, which are burning red. The menacing manner in which he calculates his movements as he draws closer to me. All of it is perplexing and perturbing.

"The police aren't doing anything to help, and you know it, Dan. I am not surprised about their incompetence because they haven't done anything plausible in their previous disappearances. But this is different. It is my sister's life that we are talking about here. I will not rest until I know where she is." I state, and he gives me a smirk that strokes my demons.

How annoying can he get, honestly? It is fine if he does not agree with my approach to rescuing my sister, but how dare he laugh at me at this time? What is so humorous in my despair that he has to smirk?

"You are going way out of line, and I am scared of what will happen to you in the course of this madness!"

Shock and anger strike me off guard, his words hanging in my head like a cloud. Madness? This, what I am doing to find my missing sister, is madness to him? How dare he? "I don't like your tone or your choice of words, Dan!" I state.

He takes a step closer, and for a minute I was beguiled to think that he said that out of anger and worry for me, but that was until he spoke again. "And I hate how you are going about this whole thing!" He roars. So unapologetic. "You are a mere journalist, Irma, not a police officer! If you want to do something, your articles are more than enough, and what you have gathered so far is even more than enough. Stick to your lane and leave the rest to the police." His voice is cold enough to make me tremble.

And I am trembling for real. Why is he getting so worked up? Does he care this much for me, or is there some deeper meaning to his reaction?

"It is my only sister's life at stake here, Dan! If it were you in my shoes, would you be seated down with arms crossed, doing nothing?" I fume calmly into his nose.

That is how close we are, and the heat is burning pretty high. There has always been heat between us, but today it's burning differently. This is not the fire of our burning love, but the fire of the rift growing between us. And it's worrying.