No-LIMIT-Rooms 01 English
Kumiho
by
Jepasch
Note from the author.
I wrote this story originally in German, and then translated it using deepl software.
If you are bothered by the grammar, feel free to translate it correctly yourself. I don't have the money to pay a professional translator for my stories, which I put online for free.
In the meantime there are 8 parts, which I either translate further, or leave in German, depending on feedback here. I hope you like it, although some things are probably not understandable due to cultural differences if you didn't grow up in Germany. But I am also happy to answer questions of understanding. Have fun!
Prolog
My cell phone rang. On the display I saw that it was Nadine. "Hello Nadine, how are you?" I answered.
"Hey Laura." Her voice sounded pressed, she wasn't feeling well, I felt that immediately. "I need your help."
That sounded serious. Alarmed, I asked. "What's the matter, is there trouble, have they found you, are you being followed?"
"No, nothing like that. Why should they I haven't done anything. It's you who they want. It's different, I think I'm pregnant."
Thoughts raced in my head. "By whom? Kevin?"
"Of course from Kevin, who else?" Her voice almost cracked.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's only been almost three months since he... "I didn't finish the sentence. Suddenly I saw the scene again: Kevin and I at the poker table with the bosses, the masked and armed men who stormed the room and the shots. And Kevin, who was suddenly lying on the floor covered in blood. I had managed to stop thinking about it or dreaming about it for almost a week.
"Yes, but at first I didn't think about it at all. It must have happened the night before he died. Then everything rushed out. The funeral, the questioning ... I didn't even register that I was overdue." "You used to be, too," I reminded her. As twin sisters, we usually had the period at the same time. "If you go hungry again, that may be the cause. Did you do a pregnancy test?"
"No not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. I'm scared."
"Of course you're scared. But you need certainty. There's no point in burying your head in the sand. If you are actually pregnant, there is very little time to make a decision."
"A decision?" She sounded confused. Then she understood what I meant. "You can not be serious! Kevin is dead and his child would be all I have left of him."
She knew, of course, that I had always thought Kevin was an asshole, he had gotten us into the whole thing in the first place, but I was partly to blame for his death. My stupid idea to call in the police had ended in disaster. I had to leave university and have been under police protection ever since. Anyone who messes with the Russian mafia is playing with his life. I answered her as gently as possible: "Hey little sister, I didn't mean it like that. But before you can make any plans for the future, you need to be certain. Get a test, will you?"
She sniffed. "Yes, I'll be leaving in a moment."
After our conversation, I threw myself thoughtfully on my bed. Nadine had a steady job, not very well paid, but sufficient. She had an apartment and a lot of friends. But could she raise a child alone? I always considered her my little sister, and not just because I was four minutes older than her. She had always been less independent than me, took the path of least resistance, took up a teaching and submitted to it. I, on the other hand, had always resisted. They could hardly control me in the home. Nevertheless, or perhaps because of it, I passed my Abitur, got admission to the university and was about to take my exams. In the meantime, however, I was already earning more money with my part-time job than I could ever earn as an academic in the teaching company. I deserved it, I corrected myself. That was over since I lived in this state apartment. No income, no studies, no degree. Damn cops and bureaucracy. They had promised everything, except that I would be helped quickly and unbureaucratically afterwards. They didn't say that, for good reason. I was stuck here and couldn't get any further. Far from my university, far from my sister and my few friends, far from my scene. It didn't take long for my phone to ring again. She must have hurried. "Finished already?" I asced. Loud breathing in the line. "Nadine, are you okay?"
"Hello Laura," answered an unfamiliar male voice, with an overly clear Russian accent. The shock went into my limbs, my stomach knotted together.
"Who is speaking, where is Nadine?" I managed to speak calmly with difficulty and not let my rising panic show.
"We have them now. She will pay off your debts, it won't be pleasant for her."
It was immediately clear to me who was meant by "we". "She has nothing to do with it, let her go. I withdraw my statement too." My panic broke through.
"It's too late for that. Blood has to be paid for by blood. But if you surrender yourself to us, we will let your sister go."
I wasn't that naive. Still: "Well, I'll do it, I'll come. But give it to me beforehand, I want to know if she is okay."
It was only seconds before I heard Nadine's panicked voice: She was speaking English, I guess she was hoping the kidnappers didn't understand.
"Laura, don't, they're going to kill us both, I heard. They didn't know that I understood Russian." Her voice stopped abruptly, and someone covered her mouth.
"We're expecting you in Berlin tomorrow evening."
The conversation was over.
I didn't have to be told where in Berlin. The club still existed, and certainly still belonged to them, even if one boss was dead and the other in jail. Of course they wouldn't hide Nadine there. I didn't own a car. I didn't need one in Berlin, I couldn't afford one here. The train ride to Nadine's place of residence took a while. On the way I called my contact and described what had happened. When I got to her apartment, the police were already there. The only thing they found was their discarded cell phone and a dropped, unopened pregnancy test.
1 The apartment building
Even when I got off the train shortly after eight o'clock, my blouse was sticking to my back. It was over thirty degrees, and the train wasn't really air-conditioned either. I still had almost two hours until the appointment. I decided to walk, and take a look at the outside of the building beforehand. Needless to say, I was nervous, because on this depended whether I could ever see my sister again. And yes, I also had a sinking feeling in my stomach.
This city was completely different from Berlin, and not just because there were hills bordering it. I stopped at a bakery and treated myself to a small breakfast. Fortunately, the saleswoman understood High German, so much for advertising. She didn't know what to do with Schrippen at first, but she was familiar with rolls.
With the coffee cup in one hand and the sandwich in the other, I slowly walked around the block of the apartment building. Since it was downtown, traffic rolled noisily past. A quiet location it was not. There was only one entrance at the front, with a mirrored double door. No company name indicated the building's purpose. A driveway led to an underground garage, but it was obviously only accessible to visitors and residents. A barred gate blocked the entrance. While I was eating the roll, I saw a vehicle drive in there. It stopped in front of the gate, and for no apparent reason, the grille lifted, revealing the driveway. As soon as the car drove through, the grille gate immediately closed again. A yellow warning light indicated that one should no longer move through it. So you couldn't easily get in or out of the building. Apart from that, it was completely inconspicuous. Via a side street I reached the back side at the parallel street. But there seemed to be a completely different building, which obviously had nothing to do with the apartment building. A bistro, a bakery, doctors' offices and small boutiques were located in this row of houses. Where and whether the apartment building had another entrance, or exit, I could not see. However, I knew through Holger that there must be one here. To the further search however no time remained to me. I threw my trash into a wastebasket and went back to the front entrance.
There were neither mailboxes nor a row of doorbells at the entrance. Instead, just a single bell button, with no nameplate. There was an electronic door lock on the door, which apparently could be opened with a magnetic card. After glancing at the clock on my cell phone, I gathered my courage and walked up the two steps to the entrance. In the doorway, my reflection greeted me: a normal young woman of 26, not unattractive, with light brown, medium-length hair and blue eyes. And a blouse sticky with sweat, over blue jeans and with high heels. Before I could even ring the bell, I heard an electric buzz, and the door swung open to the outside. A gush of cool air rushed toward me; the house was air-conditioned. When no one came out even after three seconds, I decided that the door had probably been opened for me. However, I hadn't been able to spot a surveillance camera anywhere on the building. Except, of course, at the entrance to the underground garage. Determined, I stepped through the door, which closed silently behind me.
Behind the front door, a spacious lobby with a reception desk on the left awaited me. A doorman smiled at me in a friendly manner with a questioning expression on his face.
"Good morning! You must be Mrs. Blauert, right?"
I was taken aback for a moment, but then nodded back in a friendly manner.
"Uh, yes. Good morning. How did you know?"
"They're on my list. Wait, I'll let the boss know they're here. She wants to show them around personally. If you would be patient for a moment, please?"
"Yes, thank you. - Uhm, excuse me: quickly freshen up a bit? I just got here, and the train wasn't really air-conditioned."
The relatively young man nodded understandingly. He might hardly be older than me and looked quite athletic, absolutely not the usual porter type. His suit also fit perfectly, not cheap stuff that security guards usually wore. As he raised his arm to point in a direction, I noticed that his upper arm filled out the suit jacket nicely. He seemed to be doing weight training.
"But of course! There, just behind them are the restrooms."
"Thank you!"
Immediately I disappeared through the indicated door. The rooms were bright, clean, and smelled good even though they had no windows. A large mirror above a generous sink allowed me to redo my makeup. Unfortunately, I had not thought of a change of clothes. Therefore, I removed my blouse and bra, washed my torso, and dried myself with paper towels before getting dressed again. After a final, searching look in the mirror, I headed back to the lobby.
When I re-entered the lobby, a black-haired, medium-figured woman stood in front of the reception desk. She was wearing a tasteful white suit, pearl necklace, pearl earrings, and extremely high-heeled shoes, which I'm sure had been as expensive as her dress. She might be a little shorter than me, but her shoes made up for it. I estimated her to be in her early 40s.
She wore perfect makeup, which accentuated her pretty face, but still didn't make her look girly. She could have passed for a CEO at any board meeting of a large corporation.
With her hand open, she came to greet me. "Ah, good morning Johanna! I'm Rebecca! I'm glad you made it on time. May I offer you some refreshments before the tour, coffee perhaps?"
I grasped the proffered hand. She had a surprisingly firm grip for a woman and turned her wrist up slightly as we shook hands. A gesture I knew how to interpret. This woman was a dominatrix!
Her discreet perfume, which had certainly not been cheap either, penetrated my nose pleasantly. This woman radiated power, wealth and self-confidence. Undoubtedly, she was the supreme boss here.
