Chapter 4

I woke up in bed.

And it was hard. So, so hard. It reminded me of my own bed which had not so many pillows that used to cradle me while I cried as a child.

But I knew that this wasn't my bed.

What happened to me? I tried to remember it.

The range on fire, Adrian falling from the house.

I opened my mouth to scream, but it came out as muffled cries when the man behind me covered my mouth with a strong smelling cloth. I tried to protest and push his hand away.

I felt my body going limp, my breathing becoming harder and slower and my eyes slowly drooping down as I heard another click of a camera.

The last thing I saw was a black van stopping in front of my limp body.

The same black van which was parked a few metres away from my house.

How was Adrian?

Was he alive?

Holy shit.

I winced as I tried to move my legs. Surprisingly, they were bandaged and my clothes were changed into a pure white nightgown. My head still feels heavy but it is better than before.

I squinted my eyes as they got adjusted to my surroundings. Grey walls, a window which was covered in thick metal railing, another bed across the window accompanied by a small nightstand and a cupboard.

Where the hell am I?

I tried to get up when suddenly the wooden door on my right opened and a girl entered, then she stopped when she saw me.

Her brown doe eyes widened in shock and she scurried out of the room.

I was in a room.

Dark, dingy, not a dungeon, but not far off. Bunk beds lined each of the four walls. The lack of windows, and dampness from the floor, settled fast into my bones.

I sat on a threadbare mattress, looking around my new home. Girls huddled on each bed. All of them wore an aura of tragedy, eyes bruised with loss, skin painted with injuries and shadows.

A man loomed over me, his beard black and gross. Reaching behind him, he bared a knife.

I flinched, and tried to crawl away.

Some part of me said he wouldn’t hurt me. Not yet. But the other part saw the knife and cowered.

I knew what a knife did. It cut things. Butchered things. I didn’t want to be butchered.

The man grunted, digging fingers into my shoulder, pressing me into the dank mattress on the bottom bunk. I yelped as he rolled me onto my belly. I kicked and twisted, trying to stay upright, fighting an already lost battle.

The motion of sawing caused the string around my wrists to bite deep into sore skin. The blade was blunt and it seemed to take forever before the bindings finally broke.

The man released me, backing away with a scowl. I slowly sat upright, rubbing my wrists, skin indented and heated with a raw, angry red.

“You. Stay. The boss favorite” He jabbed a finger in my face before stomping to the exit. The heavy, black door opened and he disappeared. The room echoed with a loud click as the lock slammed home.

The moment he was gone, I gawked at my new roommates. Only a few girls met my eyes, the rest slouched with fear.

I couldn’t stop staring. Eight bunk-beds. Eight women. All of us ranged from different ages.

There was no rhyme in our abduction.

Some of us were blonde, others black, redhead, and brown.

Our skin colour didn’t match either: three Asian, two black, and three white.

Nothing screamed pattern. The police wouldn’t be able to work out who’d be the next victim—it seemed any woman easy enough to steal was fair game.

Whether we were tall, short, fat, slim. Big breasted, long legged. We were all there for one reason.

A reason I didn’t yet know.

A reason I didn’t want to know.

Hours passed while we stared at each other.

No one talked—we didn’t need to. We communicated in our silence, deeper than words. Our souls talked. We comforted one another, all the while sharing grief over what would become of us.

The flickering light bulb illuminated our cage, sending tension rippling around the room.

Some time, hours later, the door opened and a younger man with wonky teeth and a jagged facial scar appeared, depositing a tray of eight bowls in the centre of the room.

The stagnant air of our prison filled with scents of food—something stir-fried with a platter of warm bread to scoop it up with.

My stomach growled; I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

My heart stuttered, thinking about Adrian, It seemed so long ago, sharing our first kiss in a very long time, enjoying our connection.

I forced myself to stop thinking about him. It hurt too much.

No one moved, but we all stared longingly at the food once the door locked again.

I waited to see if there was a hierarchy.

No one budged.

The scent of dinner overwhelmed, and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed my strength to fight. I wouldn’t sit waiting—who knew when they would come for us.

I moved.

My body creaked and protested, but I stood and collected a bowl at a time, handing it with a piece of flat bread to each girl.

They gave a timid smile, a glassy look, a flush of tears. I took comfort in helping them. At least they weren’t alone.

We were in this together.

When I delivered the last bowl and took my own, I had to swallow my tears.

They threatened to drown me if I let them loose.

Jacobi. My life. My happy, happy world dissolved and left me in hell.

I didn’t belong to Jacobi anymore. I didn’t even belong to myself. I belonged to a bleak, unknown, and terror-filled future.

Swallowing hard, I forced the tears away. Tears were not use

ful, and I refused to buckle.

Taking a mouthful of gruel, I hiccupped and steeled myself.

I would not cry.

Not tonight.