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A man’s voice has me slinking back to the ground, desperate to not be seen.
“Get in,” he commands.
A scampering sound comes from the cell next to me.
“Please don’t hurt me,” a girl’s voice cries out.
I slowly move backwards until my back hits the wall behind me. Huddled in the corner, I do my best to stay as quiet as possible.
Whimpering in the cell next to me gives way to something akin to slurping. Chills run down my spine and my hands come to my ears to block out the horrific sound.
A bloodcurdling scream has my eyes slamming shut and another bout of terror racing through me. My hands press on my ears so tightly that they begin to ache.Please, God, please help me,I silently beg, rocking back and forth. Between my hands blocking out the noise and my heart beating so irregularly fast, I miss the man leaving the cell next door. I stay curled in the fetal position, muttering prayers and pleas to anyone who will hear me.
* * *
Days have gone by and I haven’t seen anyone or heard anyone. Dehydration is setting in. I’m no longer wetting myself, and if I don’t get fluids soon, I will die. My muscles ache and I keep slipping in and out of consciousness.
“Why aren’t they bringing us food?” I say aloud, as if there is anyone to hear me.
“They will,” a small broken voice says from the cell next to me.
I bolt upright, finding strength I didn’t think I had.
“Wh-who’s there?” I stutter.
“They have to keep us alive.”
“Wh-who’s saying that?”
The girl doesn’t answer my questions. She just continues talking, her voice hollow.
“They’re gonna sell us.”
“What?” My scratchy throat barely allows me to say the word.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet? We’re being trafficked.”
My blood runs cold and my entire body begins to quiver.
“Oh, God,” I cry out, voice hoarse.
“Shh. They’ll hear you.”
“Who?” my voice asks shakily.
“Them. The men with red eyes.”
I freeze at her words, decade’s worth of memories flooding my mind. Red eyes. Glowing.
Monsters.
“What red eyes?” I grip the bars so tightly my forearms ache. “What are you talking about?” I yell, desperate for her to start talking. They can’t be here.
She turns her head toward me.
“They’re not human,” she whispers.
I jerk away from the cell. Her dead eyes look right through me.
