Marcella

Marcella

November 20, 2024

Marcella entered the infamous Spintria in search of employment.

She wasn’t male and she had other wares to offer.

Part of that was a lie. Marcella already was gainfully employed. She was in the Spintria in search of the men she did not want to be in search of her. For this mission, she dyed her hair blonde, as per the Roman custom for all prostitutes. Combined with her young age and pleasing looks, she easily made it to those that screened potential candidates.

The four of them demanded an audition.

Lying (again), Marcella eagerly agreed.

The first was overly excited and (definitely) overweight. He knew his limitations. She knew them also. The two engaged the viewing pleasure of the other three for no more than a few minutes before he surrendered. Marcella permitted his graceful exit before turning her attention to the other three.

They would not be as passive as their predecessor. They wanted far more. By the look of Marcella, she understood and actually encouraged their aggressiveness.

That is, until she grasped both of her knives.

Within seconds, two were bleeding as all thieves should. The third, merely stung by her blade, begged forgiveness, kneeling before her, hoping she would understand.

What Marcella understood was the value of completing the contract and collecting any bonus money for doing so quickly. The third saw her determination in her now vacant black eyes.

It was the last thing he ever saw.

The space was now eerily quiet. Small drops of water, condensing on the arches, slowly trickled to lower levels, pooling. With each drop, Marcella could hear the micro echoes reverberate along the length of this chamber and its catacomb entrance.

It was along this entrance the first man, the overweight man returned. This time, bearing a small satchel. When he threw it to Marcella, it hit the stone floor, revealing the sound of the gold coins contained within. A man of many words, he did not keep Marcella longer than necessary.

Marcella took her cloth to wipe her blades before sheathing them. She pointed one at the gold chain he wore. It was to be her tribute for both not taxing his poorly maintained body and dispatching his three previous partners to the afterlife they so richly deserved. He would pay his taxes to Caligula, but not to Caligula and three additional parasites.

Despite the blood and her payment, today was worth the money.

Definitely worth the money.