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Guiding me to a staircase, he rushes up the steps. I don’t complain, happy to get down to business. The lights flash brightly, obscuring my vision, and my head swims slightly, probably from all the alcohol. Fuck. I stumble, but he chuckles and rights me. He yanks me roughly after him, and I fall into the closed door at the top, gasping as the breath is knocked out of me. He groans and slams my back against it, his mouth descending on mine again. I blink as he devours me. Everything is slowing down, spinning. He pulls away, and the next thing I know, I’m on a desk with him on top of me. I giggle automatically as he shoves my dress up, but I can’t feel his touch. I feel numb.
Something is wrong.
The alarm bells are screeching now as my head spins. I want to close my eyes as my body becomes limp and unresponsive. My words even come out slurred. What’s wrong with me? Surely it can’t just be the booze, I didn’t have that much.
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he growls against my skin, nipping at it.
“Stop, something… something’s wrong.” I push at him weakly, barely even able to move him from between my legs.
“Too much to drink?” He laughs, but when he lifts his head, his smile is cruel. I blink. He has two heads now.
Get the fuck out.
I know if I don’t get out of this room, something really bad is going to happen.
Move now.
I try to sit up, but he pushes me back. “No, no, what was in that drink?” I try to snarl, but it comes out as a gasp. My head spins and my eyes start to close. Everything begins to fade, and at the last moment, I throw myself away from him, but when I hit the floor and it all goes black, I know I’m too late. Especially when I hear him standing above me.
“Thought I would at least get to have my fun this time.”
Fuck.
* * *
I regain consciousness slowly.My head is fuzzy, and it’s banging like a two-day bender headache. My body feels sluggish, and my skin is dirty, gritty, like I’m covered in sweat. Groaning, I try to pry my eyes open, but they refuse, and then I’m suddenly back in the black, and the pain stops.
Next time, I force my eyes open, and I squint at the dark room before I pass out again. My body is obviously still fighting off whatever is running through my system… whatever that asshole put in my drink.
Drugged.
I was drugged, I realise, before I succumb to the effects again.
I know time has passed when I wake up once more. I’m lying on something soft. I’m still weak and tired, but not as bad as before. The pain in my head has lessened, but I still don’t feel a hundred percent. My nose twitches as I smell dampness, sweat, and even pee. Cracking open my eyes, I find my head lolling on what looks like a dirty mattress on the floor of a half empty room. There’s a broken bed, old boxes, and furniture to one side. Dirty, ripped curtains cover the single window, where sun is trying to shine through the dusty, fogged glass.
Where am I?
I know something bad has happened. I was drugged, and now I wake up here? I move my feet and realise they are bare—no shoes, no bag.
Get moving, Alena, this is not fucking happening to you.
I see the news and hear the stories, and I refuse to be one of those girls on the reports.
No fucking way. I try to sit up, gritting my teeth against the pain it causes, but I just flop back down.
Time passes slowly, but each hour that slips by brings more strength into my limbs, and finally, I can stand. I manage to stumble around the room, inspecting the space. I try the window, but it’s bolted closed and looks out over water. The door is also locked, and I try to pick it with a nail from the floor, but it does nothing. Exhausted and thirsty, I collapse back onto the mattress, telling myself I’ll rest for a bit before getting out.
The next thing I know, there’s a giant bang as the door opens, and then I hear the sound of boots stomping across the creaky wood floor.
“Wake up, cunt. It’s time to make you pretty for your buyer.” Someone kicks my floppy legs. “Get your ass up. You won’t like it if I have to make you. It’s time for your new life, whore.” He laughs, the sound low and hateful.
Looking up in fear, I meet the eyes of the stern, smirking man.
Buyer?
Oh, double fuck.
