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Thoko rolls her eyes. The makeup artist is, yet again, talking about her life, as if Thoko even cared about her. It’s annoying.
“And then he told me he only liked me because I look like his sister. Can you believe it?!” the ginger cried, her name was Deirdre or something, one of those Irish names.
Thoko meekly nodded, maybe even telling her some words of support, she didn’t actually care about her or her problems.
Thoko remained silent, utterly bored, she couldn't wait for this runaway to be over. She only has TWO changes of clothes, which is unacceptable, to say the least. However, once she finally looked up from her phone she couldn’t help but smile as she noticed Vilma coming back from her runaway. She always looked so good in Dior.
“Ugh, these shoes are horrible,” the Swede said as she approached Thoko. “This collection is awful. Dior is going downhill.”
Thoko giggled. “Absolutely, it’s very outdated.” she said. The collection was so ugly, it didn’t look fashionable at all. “You look pretty either way,” she added with a bright, almost adoring, smile.
Vilma gave her a knowing smirk; of course she knew she was pretty. “I think it’s your turn now, sweetheart.” the blonde added, and Thoko quickly went to her place.
Thoko and Vilma meet at the club later on, all the other models are probably drunk already, maybe high on some other stuff too. Thoko recalls that Vilma said that it tasted different when they are all high on cocaine.
“Today, then?” Thoko whispers, her accent thickened a bit when she was nervous. She kept her arm around the blonde’s arm, glancing up at her hesitantly.
“Yes,” Vilma answered coldly. Even with the dark club, Vilma still looked beautiful, even if Thoko could see the frown line between her designed eyebrows. “This one, the new girl. Follow me.” Vilma commanded, and Thoko followed.
Both women entered the V.I.P area, and of course they let them in. At first Thoko didn’t see anything interesting, but Vilma discreetly pointed to the short girl in the corner.
Mitsuki Osaka. Thoko knew her; she was the brand new star, which was the reason why she only had two forgettable outfits in today’s runaway. She was like 1.63, definitely not worth a runaway, but the brand said they wanted more inclusivity or something. Rude and absurd! Thoko felt herself getting angry, the darting look she gave the Japanese girl was quickly noticed by her older mentor.
“Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.” The blonde said, shaking her head. “Besides, she has to trust us, älskling.” He added, fixing her bangs behind her ears, showing those marvelous diamond earrings that one of her exes gave her. Poor idiot. “Let’s go.” She said matter-of-factly, putting on a fake yet convincing and practiced smile, Thoko did the same.
“Oh god, Mitsuki, too good to finally meet you!” Vilma exclaimed, with a wide toothy smile as she approached the new girl. “Your runaway was amazing! You looked absolutely stunning, dear.” She was so charming.
“You looked ethereal, this collection was designed for you.” Thoko now spoke, just as lovely as Vilma.
Mitsuko blushed a bit, an innocent looking thing, not made for this world. “Ah- Thank you so- so much.” She said, her accent was very marked, of course, how long has she been in the Paris scene? Two days for all that Thoko cared.
“Me and Thoko wanted to invite you some drinks, do you mind?” Vilma offered, her smile as bright as the sun. Anyone would fall for those red lips and blue eyes.
“Uh- Oh- Y-yes, sure-” Mitsuko timidly accepted. Effectively ceiling her fate.
Thoko slipped a few drops of GHB in Mitsuko’s drink, Vilma distracted her and the clueless girl never knew. They giggle, they joke around with her, joking about her.
“I can’t even believe they accepted you into such a big modeling agency! I mean, look at you!” Thoko laughs loudly, Mitsuko is conscious enough to still be hurt by her words. “No offense, but you are NOT fit for this world. They’ll eat you alive!” She keeps making fun of the other girl. Vilma chuckles every now, but she is above this.
“Are you feeling sleepy, dear?” Vilma asks with her honey-like voice. “It’s been a long day for you, we should head back home, shouldn’t we?” She grabs her arm, all gently and friendly. Mitsuko softly nods.
…
“I- I can’t- Vilma, I-” Thoko hyperventilates, his hands shaking as she holds the knife tightly.
“You have too, Thoko. You can’t back down now,” Vilma yells, holding down Mitsuko’s arms. The Japanese girl is struggling a bit, half unconscious. “She stole your spotlight, älskling, are you going to let her?” She continued, eyeing up at Thoko, with those round eyes.
“I- I…” Thoko leaned down, still trembling.
“Just the first one, älskling, you have to do it for this to work.” Vilma continues.
“Just the first one?” Thoko whimpers.
“Just the first one.”
Thoke breathes in, gathers all his courage to kneel down besides Mitsuko. The Japanese woman is confused, drowsy, looking up at Thoko with fear. Thoko closes his eyes, and the world seems to go quiet. She raises the knife, and with all her force drops it against Mitsuko’s chest.
Even with the duct tape, Mitsuko lets out a painful cry, struggling against Vilma.
“Good girl.,” Vilma whispers with a smirk.
She uses her own knife and brings it to Mitsuko’s neck, Thoko watches in awe how she slowly she rips the skin of her neck, watching the first drops of blood slide down her neck like a wicked pearl necklace. Mitsuko whines, but the blonde shut her off by cutting open her throat finally, leaving her choking and convulsing. The blond smiles, as the blood splattered across her face, her smile isn’t like one of a predator, not like a lioness killing a gazelle, no, it’s worse, like a siren, enjoying the agonizing muffled sounds from her prey. Like a siren, that lurks sailors to their certain death with her alluring voice.
Before Thoko knew it, she was stabbing, stabbing and ripping, laughing maniacally as the blood from Mitsuko made a mess on her gorgeous face, her designer clothes stained with the warm crimson liquid. She laughs, she and Vilma laugh, they use their manicured and soft hands to pull away the flesh, they stab and cut. Mitsuko is long gone, drowned in her own blood. It was for the best, she didn’t deserve to see the holy feast her body will be for the sirens.
Thoko pulls all the pale skin from their sacrifice’s torso, marveling with sight of the muscles, her organs sprawling out of their places with wet sound that are so sordid yet so absolutely heavenly she’ll be craving it afterwards.
Vilma has her face covered in blood, her rouge lips the same color as the blood on her face. She is amazed at the sight of Thoko pulling and turning, how she laughs so bewitchingly beautiful. She’s proud, her little protegé, her beautiful Thoko, her älskling. She pulls Thoko closer, smiling at her with those irresistible lips.
“Help me clear this,” Vilma whispers, her tone still ecstatic but with a throaty sound to her words. She tenderly grabs Thoko’s hand, and rests both of theirs on the lamb’s chest.
Thoko is a bit confused, but she catches on to the meaning soon enough. Vilma chuckles at her, such a clueless little thing.
Both sirens began their ravaging feast cutting the lamb’s breast with their chef’s knives, pulling on its muscles and giggling as they dig through its chest they get to the ribs finally, Thoko doesn’t find the bones as appreciable, however, Vilma chuckles yet again shaking her head at Thoko’s adorable ingenuity.
“Inside, älskling.” She informs, admiring the look of realization in her protegé’s face.
With a bit of struggle they carve their way through its ribs, pulling aside its dead lungs. Vilma pulls it out, still red, but unbeating. The lamb’s heart.
Vilma giggles as she pulls it from its body, Thoko watches in morbid fascination. The blonde pulls her closer, grabbing her by the waist, staining the back of her dress with blood, her ocean blue eyes look deeply into Thoko’s mahogany colored ones. The blood in Thoko’s face looks like shining red onyx, it reminds Vilma of a delightful crown she wore once for a runaway. Thoko takes her time adoring Vilma’s face, how the blood seems to suit her so disgustingly great, she thinks it looks like rubies, but it is more like a carnelian, mostly dark red, but with hints of a ocre orange in contrast with her pale skin and the hushed lights of the candles around them.
Vilma smiles, and it’s not animalistic or sadist this time; it’s just fondness. She raises the dripping heart of their sacrificial lamb, holding it to both their faces. Thoko puts her arms around her waist, their bodies only separated by the flesh and blood of their lamb.
Vilma leans in and bites the once beating heart, sinking her white teeths in the fist-sized muscle, staining it with its remaining blood. Thoko stares at it like a fervent priest to the image of his god. But those ocean eyes look up at her, and she knows it's her turn to bite down.
They eat their lambs heart, raw and dripping. Thoko has never felt like this, she doesn’t think about the texture or the flavor, it's like getting the holy communion, that doesn’t matter. She feels alive, revitalized, and young. Her pupils are blown wide, she’s laying on Vilma’s chest in static shock. Vilma coddles her, strokes her braids, and whispers her sweet words. Thoko looks up, and with the lights of the candles, he sees Vilma’s now flawless skin, perfect and almost angelic. She blacks out.