I look down at myself. I’m wearing nothing but a damn skin-tight dress, and my shoes are long gone. Looking at my attire jogs a memory from my mind. I remember… my birthday… the club… that creepy, scary guy. Everything comes rushing back to me all at once.
Oh, god, no, where am I? What happened to me?
My gaze swings around the room again. I have to find a way out. There seems to be only one exit and entrance out of the room, and it’s through the large metal door on the far side of the room. I eye the thing, knowing there is no way I’ll be able to break it down or get it open. There is a small door in the center of it that reminds me of a food slot of a prison cell door.
Next to the door is a large mirror set inside the wall. I eye it with apprehension. I can't help but wonder if it’s just a mirror or a one-way mirror, where people can watch you from the other side. There is another room off to the right that leads into a small bathroom. I slowly stand on wobbly legs to take a closer look inside of it.
“Shit,” I grumble when my bare feet touch the cold cement floor. It’s impossibly cold in this room, and I’ve never craved a blanket more in my life then I do right now.
Inside the tiny bathroom are a toilet and a sink. There is no toilet paper, soap, or any of the things that a normal person would have in their own bathroom at home. I back out of the tiny room, feeling more unsure then I did before I stepped foot inside of it. I scurry over to the mattress, crawling across it, before sitting down in the farthest corner, pulling my legs up to my chest. I’m cold, so cold.
Times seems to blend together. I don’t know how long I sit like this, could be minutes, hours, maybe even days. There is no real way of telling time here. My eyes start to droop closed again when I hear something happening in front of my door.
I jump up and run to it. I hear the rattling of keys followed by a lock opening. I want to scream, beg, plead... but a part of me is terrified to find out what is on the other side of that door.
Disappointment fills my veins when instead of the large metal door opening, the small flap opens and a plate is shoved inside the room.
“Hello?” I call out, my voice coming out scratchy and raw. “Please, you don’t have to help me, but please tell me why am I here? Tell me who took me,” I beg and get down on my knees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the outside world through the tiny opening.
My pleas go unanswered and the door quickly slams shut, nearly knocking the paper plate onto the floor. I eye the sandwich and the bottle of water that’s now on the floor in front of the door. Tears build up in my eyes and threaten to spill over as I make my way back to the mattress, leaving the plate of food. My stomach tightens nervously. There is no way I could keep anything down right now.
I don’t know how many days pass. All I know is that I’m on the verge of insanity. If I’m not sleeping, I’m crying. When I’m not doing either of those things, I’m driving myself crazy while trying to figure out why I am here.
Every time a meal is brought, I try and talk to the person on the other side of the door, but as always, they don’t respond. I’ve stopped eating the food they bring in hopes that someone will be forced to come in and talk to me. My eyes often go to the mirror that overlooks the room. Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m being watched, and I most likely am, since I’m almost certain the damn thing is not just a mirror. I remain on the mattress, just as I always do, attempting to get warm. I’m so cold; I’m not sure I remember what it feels like to be warm anymore. The little thin dress I’m wearing gives me little protection or warmth, and I shiver uncontrollably.
Between being cold and always afraid of the unknown, I get no sleep. I’m in a constant state of panic, my body so stiff and exhausted that even tiny movements cause my muscles to ache. I wonder if my sister is looking for me, searching for me? I wonder where I am? Who took me? There are a million questions running through my mind, and no answers. I shiver against the mattress, but my head perks up at a noise outside my door.
My last meal of the day was brought a few hours ago... and this has never happened before. I hear the jingling of keys and deep husky laughter... laughter that belongs to men.
God, no. My entire body clams up when the door opens, a loud creak vibrating through the room. I look up, paralyzed with fear, as two dark-haired men enter.
“My, oh, my, look what we have here, Luca.” The two men walk unsteadily toward me. I can smell the alcohol on their breath and they’re still a few feet away from me.
I’ve wished for the door to open for so long, hating that it kept me trapped in this room, but what I didn’t know was that it protected me, shielded me, because now that it’s open, I want it to close, taking the two men before me with it.
“Look at those full lips. I bet they will look great around my cock,” the other man snickers.
“How angry do you think Ivan will be if we pop her cherry?” the first man asks.
Fear like I’ve never felt before spirals out of control inside of me. They edge closer toward me, and I wish the wall would swallow me whole, making me disappear from this room and out of reach from these assholes.
“We’re gonna have some fun with you, baby. You want that, don’t you?”
I shake my head, looking up into a pair of dark eyes. There is no emotion, no caring nature in those eyes, just pure lust, and I know then that the two men before me are monsters.
I look past the two figures in front of me and realize that they’ve left the door open behind them. Hope blooms inside me. They take another step forward. They’re much too close now, and I know if I want to survive this I need to do something. Fighting the ache in my muscles, my body starts to move on its own. I jump up from the mattress, trying to run past them, but even drunk, the men are faster than I am. I barely make it a couple of feet before one of them grabs me by the arm, yanking me backward.
Luca pushes me into the second guy’s arms. Panic swarms me, my chest heaves, and still, through it all, I know that I need to fight them even if my chances of escaping are slim. I’m not going to go out without fighting.
I might not have the strength I need to overpower them, but I have long nails. I use them to my advantage, lashing out with my hand and sinking them into his ugly face, while slashing downward. He hisses out in pain, and I relish in that sound.
Of course, he rewards me by backhanding me across the face. Pain radiates across my jaw, the impact making my head snap back. Tears fill my eyes, and before I can recover, my arms are roughly twisted behind my back, making me cry out in pain. I can barely see through the treacherous tears spilling from my eyes, but I know I got the bastard good. Five bloody scratches line his face, and I almost smile. Almost.
“You're going to fucking regret doing that, you whore.” Another slap lands on my face, the pain intensifies, and before I can even get my bearings, my dress is being ripped down my body in one furious pull, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
“Fuck, look at that little body. I bet she’s tight.” Luca grips me by the chin, his fat fingers digging into my skin. I snarl my lip and spit right in his face. He looks at me with murderous rage, and I wonder if this is where I’m going to die.
He wipes a hand down his face and with that same hand, he punches me. Literally punches me. My jaw aches at the impact, and the copper taste of blood fills my mouth.