Mona's and Clara's outfits can be found on my polyvore. For some reason, it won't let m link them. But you can find me under Phoenixcross
Mona stretches her body out like a cat and sighs in a high-pitched tone. Dante sleeps beside her, his muscular body stretched out like Christ on the cross. Mona blinks in the dark room, thankful that for once she didn't wake with the sun in her eyes: maybe she'll steal Dante's curtains. It is so much nicer waking up in the dark than waking up with the sun blinding her, turning her vision red. Carefully, Mona places a kiss on Dante's full lips and gets out of the bed; she'll need to cover her scales before she meets with Clara. She quietly tiptoes out of Dante's room and into her own, closing the door softly behind her.
Mona avoids looking in the mirror as she covers her scales with the makeup Trish bought for her. It's difficult to do without the aid of the mirror, but Mona does it, covering only the bits of scales that will show. The Gods favor her, and make it possible that everything matches her skin tone perfectly. Mona sits quietly for a few moments before she finally raises her gaze to look into the mirror. She grits her teeth at her reflection and how much it's changed over the last few weeks: she hates how much she's changed. No one has said anything to her about looking any different, but that doesn't always mean anything. She can see it in her face: her skin is dull and flakey, her eyes aren't as bright as they were, and she sees herself in a different light, a light she wishes never came on in the first place. Dragging herself out of her self-pity-party, she stands up and goes to her closet to find her outfit for the day. She finally settles on a pair of dark gray skinny jeans, a long sleeved light gray jersey, a burgundy cardigan, a leopard scarf that fads from tan-orange- burgundy, a royal blue flat-brimmed fedora, and a matching fringe cross-body bag.
Halfway through wrangling her bra into place, Mona's cell phone rings quietly on the bed. Holding her bra in place with one hand, a difficult but achievable task, Mona puts her phone on speaker. "Hello?" she asks with slight strain as she struggles to fasten the four clasps of her bra.
"Hey! I'm outside your apartment, but you aren't opening up," Clara exclaims excitedly into the phone.
"Oh shit. Fuck. I'm sorry, I completely forgot to tell you! I'm not at that apartment anymore. I moved downtown not far from the studio. Hold on, I'll get you the address." Mona quickly gives Clara the address of the office while she pulls her jeans up over her hips. She can't believe she forgot to tell Clara about not being in the same apartment. At least Clara doesn't sound angry about the mistake. After the two hang up their phones, Mona grabs her shirt and begins to pull it over her body.
"Have plans, huh?" The sound of Nero's voice behind her makes Mona jump out of her skin. "You got home very late last night," Nero drawls out slowly, his body language showing the annoyance his voice is betraying. "How late did Dante keep you up, exactly?"
Mona flinches at the tone in his voice. "Don't you fucking start too. I'm going to tell you what I told Dante: Don't make me choose between the two of you, you'll both lose. I'm not yours, Nero. You don't own me. If I want to sleep with the both of you, I will, if you'll let me come near you now. I love you both and I refuse to feel guilty about my relationships with the two of you. And yes, I do have plans. Clara is taking me out today and tonight. And no, I don't know when I'll be back here. I'll send you both texts every few hours to let you know I'm okay." Once Mona has her shirt on, she turns to face Nero, her face calm and placid.
Nero stands with his arms crossed in the center of her room, watching her through narrowed eyes, which may or may not show concern. "So what? You're just going to fuck us both until you can figure out who the winner of your little game is?" Nero asks with acid in his voice.
"This isn't a game, Nero. I'm sorry if you think it is, but it isn't. I told you how I feel about you, so don't tell me you don't know. I'm sorry if my sleeping with Dante hurt you. That wasn't my intention. I'm telling you right now, get over it." Mona tries to keep her voice as gentle as possible. The last thing she wants to do is fight with him. She just wants to go shopping, get dolled up, and go grind on some random stranger, and then come back and sleep.
"Don't you think fucking both of us makes you a bit of a whore?" Nero asks calmly, his body stiffened from her lecture.
Mona raises her eyebrows as she speaks to Nero. "If I want to fuck a thousand men, it's none of your business. And I'm ignoring the whore comment, because I know you're pissed off and you want to hurt me. So fuck off, bucko." The doorbell echoes loudly in the quiet building and Mona shoves her feet into her boots. "That would be Clara. Now, I'm going to go have fun, and if you even thinking about ruining it for me, I will shove my foot so far up that pretty little as of yours, you'll be eating my toes. Nom nom, motherfucker."
Grabbing her bag, Mona brushes past the stone-hard Nero on her way out of the door. Smiling at the sound of Dante still snoring, Mona leaps down the stairs. She's relieved she finally has pep in her step. She flings the door open when she reaches it and smiles at Clara. "Just in time. Let's get out of here. Want to grab brunch before we start? I could eat a horse."
"Of course we can! I could totally go for some bananas foster right now. But first, what exactly is this place?" Clara asks as she peeks around Mona's shoulder into the building. Thankfully the only thing Clara can see is the mess that is Dante's desk. Mona is convinced he's trying to grow life forms from the dirt on it.
"Currently my hell." Mona links her arm through Clara's as they walk back to her car. "You really don't know how badly I need this."
"Oh, I think I might. You've been so distracted lately. You don't even really look like yourself anymore. I'm your friend, Mona. I notice these things. We'll eat brunch, get our nails done, and find an outfit for you. Then, we'll get drunk and dance the kind of dancing that Charlotte hates." Clara grins widely as her plan reveals its self again.
"I think that sounds perfect."
~/~/~/~
Mona takes a swallow of her personal quiche, and moans. "God this is good. Where did you find this place?"
"Oh, mommy used to take us here all the time. It's been one of my favorite places ever since. I can't believe I've never brought you here before." Clara slips some of her bananas foster into her mouth delicately. "So, tell me," she says after each chew, "That guy that you brought with you, with the cute butt. Have you slept with him?" Clara's eyes light up mischievously as she poses her question.
Mona can't help but laugh at Clara. "Yes, I have, and no, I will not give you details."
"Oh! That's just not right on so many levels. Come on! I need to know. He looks like he has good hands. Strong ones that get a good grip." Clara wiggles her eyebrows up and down and purrs at her friend across the table.
Mona smiles- her friend has no idea how right she is. "Mm. But he get jealous very easy apparently. And I tell you he can get down on my last nerve and ride it till the sun burns out. But he has done a lot for me…God, Clara I wish I could tell you everything. I need to tell someone, but I can't. Have you ever had a secret like that?" Mona looks up from her half-eaten plate at her friend. Clara's eyes have narrowed just slightly, her lips pursed, and her body tensed a fraction.
"Yes, yes I do. I know all about that. But some secrets are better kept secrets, don't you agree?" Clara takes a drink of her water and looks away from Mona. Her body finally seems to loosen a bit when Mona moves the subject on to their club choices tonight. "Well, there is a rave down by the college in that old textile building. They have a party there once a month. We could go there. They always have good music. Not to mention good drugs. I haven't gone on a trip in a while: probably too long. How long has it been for you?" Clara asks with an innocent expression on her face that is all but.
"College. I don't remember it very well. I haven't done any since. I don't like how it makes me feel. Alcohol is enough for me tonight. But, you're more than welcome to it. I won't stop you. If you need to let loose, let loose. Charlotte doesn't drug test anymore. Hell, if she did 3/4s of the company would be gone."
"God, I know. I mean don't get me wrong, I like to let loose every now and again, but damn. Not everyday, ya know?" Clara shoves the rest of her food away and frowns. "I hate that my stomach isn't big enough to eat my whole meal. Because God damn it, I wanted to finish that." Clara smiles sweetly at Mona.
"Are you saying something about the size of my stomach, you ass?" Mona throws an ice cube at her friend. "Let's hit a club first so I can actually dance, not just jump around. Not to mention, it's ladies night down at The Horsemen: shots are a buck until ten. We could go there at eight, get drunk for cheap and then hit the rave. You know the drinks will be expensive there, and they'll only have cheap beer." Mona places one last bite in her mouth as she waits for her friend's response.
"That's right. I forgot about The Horsemen. That sounds good to me: getting drunk for practically free that is. Not to mention we can probably get people to buy our drinks for us. I am not above letting a sleazy man buy me a drink because he thinks he'll get some. That's his problem, not mine." Clara smiles sweetly at her last comment and hands the waiter back some money for the bill. "Brunch is on me. No arguments. You got it last time."
Mona can't remember if the last statement was true or not. It has been a long time since Mona went out to eat with Clara. It's been a long time since she's done anything with her friends. She's certain her other friends have forgotten about her. They were never very close to begin with. Mona smiles widely at Clara, showing her pearly teeth in the late morning sun. Another thing to be thankful for today: it's finally completely sunny.
The pair make their way down the block to look into some of the high end stores for Clara after getting their nails done, and Mona a haircut. Mona can't even afford to look into the windows of the shops they're passing.
" Oh. My. God." Clara stops dead in her tracks in front of a black and white storefront. "That dress will look amazing on you!" Clara points to a red, strapless, heart-shaped, bandage dress in the window. Clara claps her hands excitedly in front of her and begins pulling Mona into the store. "You have to try it on. That color will look beautiful on you."
"Clara, I can't afford that dress. At all. I can't even afford to look at it." Mona refuses to admit that she finds the dress utterly, utterly fabulous. She can't show weakness, or she'll walk out of the store with the dress. While it is beautiful, she can't afford it. Not to mention she would feel extremely guilty about buying it. "Why don't you try it on?"
"Are you kidding? I don't have the curves for it. You, however, have the curves to fill it out and make knees weak. And don't worry about affording it. This little outing is on Daddy." Clara rolls her eyes and makes a noise of disgust at Mona's shocked and lecturing face. "Please. Ever since he and Mom got a divorce, he's been trying to buy my love. So, let's make him pay. If he wants to buy me, I'm going to make him pay for it."
Mona's feelings about her friend's ideas are complicated and extremely conflicted. Still, she shakes her head no and holds up her hands in defense. "I can't let you do that. Clara that dress is like $1500." Mona purses her lips when Clara smiles and tells her that it's only $1100. "That's not the point. It's still expensive. I couldn't take something like that from you."
"Well, what if I just happen to get it in the wrong size and give it to you? Maybe that's what I'll do. I'm buying this dress for you whether you like it or not, so you might as well try it on and make sure we get the right size. Excuse me!" Clara chases down a store clerk and brings her back to get the proper size for Mona.
"I can't believe you're making me do this. Clara, it's too much." Mona calls out from the dressing room as she shimmies the dress over her hips. How is she supposed to move in the damn thing once it's on?
"Then how about you just buy the rest of our lunch and dinner dates, hm?" Clara jumps up and down to get herself into a dress that might as well be a new layer of skin. "Besides, I'm going to make that man sorry for thinking he can buy my love. He wants to pay, so let him. Do you know what he gave me for my birthday? His credit card. That's what he gave me. Didn't even fly in to see me. He just sent me a god damn card, that his secretary signed, and a credit card. The nerve." Clara narrows her eyes at her anger and huffs.
"That is a shitty thing to do." Mona reaches her hands behind her and struggles to bend her arms to get the zipper up to the top. Thankfully, the scales are hidden by the dress and by the makeup that still clings to her skin, so that won't be a problem. Finally, Mona turns and allows herself to look into the mirror. For once, she doesn't see someone else staring back at her, she sees herself, and she can't help the smile that spreads her lips open. "God damn."
"Let me see!" Clara calls from the next dressing room.
Mona tucks a few stray hairs behind her ears and walks out of the dressing room with the confidence of a thousand drag-queens. "I forgot what my own body looked like." Mona felt a knife in her stomach at the truth of her words. She's forgotten what it feels like to own her own body, to see it and feel it as her own. She hopes Matrem will roast in hell for making her forget it. But, she won't be roasting, she runs most of it.
"I'd fuck you," Clara says matter of factly as she looks Mona over. "It's settled then: I'm buying you that dress. I have jewelry you can borrow for it too. And Louboutin's. You're lucky we have the same size feet." Clara smiles brightly at Mona and motions for her to zip-up her dress. The dress in silent discussion between the two has black color block detail on the hips and chest area with hot pink border around the edges of the black. The white bandage dress hits just above Clara's knees. "I wonder if I could have them make this shorter?"
"Probably if you're spending this much."
"Think they could have it done by tonight?" Clara turns to view her profile in the mirror.
"I think they can. But I'm no professional." Mona watches Clara in the mirror and tries to put at bay the feeling that something is off about Clara. All day she's felt it in the back of her neck, where her skin is cold and aches, but has tried to put it aside. It's probably only something to do with her father or mother. Mona knows that Clara's parents have a nearly volatile relationship, and Clara gets caught in the middle of all of their fights. For all she knows, they could be having another one.
Eventually, after a half hour of arguing with Mona and then another half hour arguing with the sales associate about the dress length, Clara buys the dress for Mona and the pair leave the store. Mona still makes comments about the expense of the dress until Clara gives her the stare down and Mona finally agrees to drop it- all the while it eats at her moral conscience. After a quick stop at Clara's apartment to gather the shoes and jewelry, Mona heads back alone to the shop.
~/~/~/~
The façade of Devil May Cry looms over her with the threat of Nero's mood. No doubt he's still brooding and pouting about the happenings this morning. Taking a defiant breath and squaring her shoulders, Mona walks proudly into the building. The door opens to a flood of warmth and Mona mentally thanks Dante for turning on the heat.
"Have fun?" Dante asks, sitting with his feet up on the desk.
"I did. Except, Clara insisted on buying me a really expensive dress. I mean really expensive. Well, technically, her dad's credit card bought it, but still." Mona shrugs off her coat and hangs it on the wall beside Nero's. "Listen, I'm going out clubbing tonight with Clara. We're going to The Horsemen and then to that rave down in the old textile building. I just don't want you to worry. I told Nero I'd text every hour. Honestly though, I'm going to be pretty drunk, so I'm not sure if I'll remember every hour."
Dante's face gives nothing away as he listens to Mona explain herself. For all she knows, he could be plotting to kill her. Finally, he opens his mouth to speak to her. "Okay. That's fine. If you don't text, I'll just call you and if you don't answer, then something's wrong. Besides, a buddy of mine works at The Horsemen. I'll have him keep and eye on you and Clara."
Mona smiles and waltzes over to kiss him on the cheek before she goes upstairs to change. Mona quickly shaves her legs, and curses herself when she nicks a spot above her knee. Her eyes go wide when the blood oozes black down her leg. Quickly, she washes her leg and presses a sheet of toilet paper to the cut and pushes it off as just the lighting.
It takes Mona three hours to tame her long hair successfully and apply, then re-apply her make up three times before she was satisfied. The make up covering the visible scales took some time, the liquid latex needing to dry smoothly before Mona could begin to apply the cover up. The dress, to Mona's delight, looks as well on her now as it did this afternoon. She assumed she would hate it as soon as she put it on again. Sitting on the bed, Mona grabs the black Louboutin's and slips them on her feet, crossing one leg over the other to get her left shoe on; thankfully they are not open toed. Dancers have horrible feet. Uncrossing her legs, Mona stands up and glides over to the mirror to look at herself once more: her lips are painted a dark blood red, her eyes smoky and lined with precision, the scales are barely visible on her body. Not looking longer than she has too, Mona turns from the mirror and exits her room.
Downstairs, Dante sits flirting openly with Clara, his eyes roaming over her body like a shark sizing up its prey. Nero, as per usual, sits pouting on the couch in the corner, pretending to read a magazine. Mona makes her way down the stairs and whistles at Clara, who snaps her head around to get a look at Mona.
"Damn. I stand by what I said earlier. I'd fuck you. Those shoes look amazing on you," Clara exclaims as she peels herself away from Dante's desk and approaches her friend. "The cabs out front. I just got done explaining to Nero how careful we'll be."
Mona looks over at Nero and smiles wickedly at the look in his eyes. "Did he question you relentlessly? He's good at that. Let me grab my coat and we'll head out. I'm so ready for this."
"Nero's on his own tonight, I'm heading to see Doge. You girls behave yourselves."
"We will," the two say in unison as the exit the room with fleeting glances.
~/~/~/~
The club music pounds loudly in Mona's ears and chest, and the alcohol swims slowly, soothingly, and warmly through her limbs. Her body twists and turns gracefully with Clara's, occasionally rubbing against her friend. The crowd of people pushes the two girls together, their bodies brushing and rubbing sometimes harshly. Mona closes her eyes as the bass drops in the song and lets out a pleased sigh; for once, she can't hear her own thoughts.
"I'm going to get another drink!" Clara screams into Mona's ear as her hips sway lazily. Mona nods and grabs Clara's hand, letting her friend lead her to the bar.
"Dollar shots are over ladies," the bartender calls as he smiles at them from behind the bar.
Mona pulls her phone out of her bra and checks the time. It was twenty after ten and she hasn't texted Nero or Dante. Quickly she texts the pair as Clara flirts with the bartender, trying to score a couple of free shots.
"I'll buy them." A man in his early thirties strides up behind them, his body pressing close to the girls as the crowd losses themselves in a remix of 'My Love'. His dark green eyes smile at Mona as she looks up from her phone. This thin nose and lips seem beautifully out of place on his delicate jaw and cheekbones. His black hair reflects the multicolored lights as they spin around the room, throwing shadows where shadows should not belong. His tall body is lithe and muscular, and he easily towers over Mona. Instantly she can't help but to think how attractive he is.
Clara wastes no time in pressing herself back against him and playing with his shirt. "That would be awfully nice of you. Two vodkas, please, you handsome devil."
The stranger smiles wickedly, his lips pulling back in a sexy manner as he makes eye contact with Mona. "You have no idea how much of a devil I am."
~/~/~/~
"You get lost on the way here?" Doge asks when Dante finally saunters into the building.
"I wanted a sundae. I'm here about that image you were supposed to clear up for me." Dante drops his coat unceremoniously onto an available chair and walks over to Doge's workstation. "Got it done yet, or am I going to have to beat you into hurrying that scrawny ass of yours up?"
"You can try to beat me, old man. Yeah, I got it cleared. And I'm telling you Dante, you ain't gonna like it one bit. Scared the shit out of me the night I saw it in her." Doge shudders at the memory and pulls up a program on his computer screen.
"Everything scares you, Doge." Dante narrows his eyes as he waits for the program to load.
"This is a whole 'nother level of fear, Dante. After you two took her, I tripled the protection spells on this place. That girl's got some demons after her. Bad ones. Ones I'm pretty sure don't even have names they're so old." Doge's fingers move quickly across his black keyboard, the light clicking sounds fill the room between breaths.
~/~/~/~
For a moment, Mona swears his eyes turn black for a split second. She blinks and shakes her head, blaming the sight on the swirling lights and too much alcohol in her body. She takes the shot the bartender hands her and tosses it back in her throat, the liquid burning and warming her stomach. "Another," she says looking at the man laying down his money. "I'm Mona, this is Clara. Should I just call you Satan, or do you have another name?"
"Call me David." He joins the two girls in throwing back a second shot, then a third, and then fourth. His eyes never leave Mona's body.
"Thanks for the drinks, David." Clara blows a kiss at him and grabs Mona's hand to lead her out on the floor.
Without even realizing, Mona reaches back and grabs David's hand in her own. It feels warm and soft against her skin, but the muscles ripple beneath his flesh in almost a sickening way. Mona swallows the bile that threatens to rise up and pulls her body flush against David's when they reach the throbbing and crowded dance floor. Her hips grind slowly into his when she moves, eliciting a smile from his nice lips. Towards the middle of the song, Mona's head starts throbbing. Too much alcohol, she tells herself as she wobbles backwards and away from David. Clara screams something to her, but her ears hum loudly with static and whispers.
~/~/~/~
"Tell me what I'm looking at here, Doge," Dante demands as he leans over the back of Doge's chair to peer at the computer screen.
"What you're looking at here, is Mona. This is her torso, right? Well we knew from the beginning that there was something in there with her, but we couldn't tell what. I mean, you can see the hand pressing against her abdomen. I've been trying to clean the image, but it always seemed off and you couldn't tell what it was." Doge puts the image up on his bigger screen and points things out to Dante. "Everything looks almost completely normal until you get to her chest."
Dante pales drastically when Doge zooms in on the area. "That's a face."
"That's a face my friend. At first I thought it was just shadows, odd shaped shadows, but it's clearly a face."
Dante tightens his grip on the back of the chair and whispers harshly, "Matrem." With the speed of a cheetah, Dante grabs his coat and rushes out of the door, calling his thanks to Doge.
~/~/~/~
Mona blinks her eyes slowly when the images around her start swirling and throbbing with the music, all except David. His smiling face still remains grounded, stationary against the background. He reaches out and pulls Mona back once again, his once warm skin now freezing her to the bone. Clumsily, she pushes at his hands and arms, trying to get him away from her. Something doesn't feel right. Clara reaches for Mona, but Mona draws back, trying to tell her friend that she needs air. As quickly as she can on unstable legs, she turns away from the confused pair and pushes through the crowd. She looks back at David and watches as the crowd speeds their dancing up around his slow-motion movements. It almost looks as if time has sped up around him. The strobe lights make her eyes hurt as the images change rapidly. Dark shadows move in the light of the strobe, etching fear onto Mona's face.
Mona turns dizzily from David and Clara and makes her way slowly to the door. Her legs shake and her feet, for once in her life, struggle to balance themselves in her shoes. Stumbling, she pushes her way through the crowd, and her fingers fumble for the phone in her bra. Dante, she needs to call Dante. Bodies bump into her on all sides, some trying to push her back out onto the dance floor. Against her better judgment, Mona looks back to where David and Clara were left standing. Only Clara dances now, David long gone from the scene. Finally with a heavy breath, Mona shoves through the doors and out into the chilly air.
The street is strangely abandoned in the late night, and Mona shudders to herself. The phone spills from her hand as she topples forward onto the pavement, skin ripping violently as her knees hit first, then hands. A hiss makes its way through her teeth. Struggling, Mona looks for her phone on the ground: curse having a black phone that blends in with the road. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Moan's neck stands up, as footsteps echo behind her. Turning over onto her butt, Mona makes eye contact with a petit woman. Mona ignores the long hair falling in front of one of her eyes as the woman approaches slowly. The woman smiles, her sharp teeth connecting with her bottom lip, popping the skin. The blood rushes out black and bubbling, coating the woman's chin and chest.
With a chocked gasp, Mona crab-walks further away from the woman. Her hands and knees burn with the harsh movement and she does her best to ignore it. The air around her smells like blood, burning flesh, and fear. "Dante," Mona whispers into the air. "Nero…Help. Oh God, please."
Mona jerks her head around to the blinding lights of a car and the sound of screeching tires as they fight against the brakes to keep going. With a sharp intake of breath, Mona holds up her hand against the advancing car.