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Along the walls, various restraints and shackles are bolted, their rusted chains adding to the sense of imprisonment. Hooks and racks hold an assortment of grim tools, their purpose unclear but undoubtedly meant for pain and suffering. I don’t feel like a masochist at this moment. The sight of them makes me thankful for the mere zip ties the men chose to restrain me, but each object is a macabre testament to the van's horrifying purpose.
I cling closer to the back door of the van as my eyes roam the cramped space. I see a stained mattress in the corner. Its frayed edges and worn-out springs hint at countless nights of torment. The sheets are disheveled and stained, evoking a sense of dread and recalling the unfortunate souls who had been confined here, their screams swallowed by the van's soundproofed walls.
This interior seems to hold infinite hidden compartments, each harboring its own malevolent secrets. The thought of what could be concealed within them is enough to make bile rise in my throat. The darkness thrives, and the unknown lurks in every shadowy recess.
I fall against the locked door as the van lurches forward. We're moving ... leaving the club. My mind races with terror, wondering what fate awaits me at the end of this journey. The men remain silent as they drive, their eyes focused on the road ahead. I strain to see where we're going, but grime covers the glass separating the back from the front of the van and offers no view of the outside world.
As we continue, my thoughts turn to Kai. Was he involved in this? Had he led me into a trap? The reason for his sudden cordialness? Or was this some other twisted plot altogether? My heart pounds in my chest as I realize I may never know the answers to these questions.
Suddenly, the van comes to a screeching halt. The sound echoes through the enclosed space, sending my nerves further into overdrive. The redhead turns around to face me, his eyes gleaming with malice.
“Time to get out,” he sneers.
The blond opens the back of the van, revealing a dark, deserted alleyway. My stomach drops as I realize this is where they plan to take me. I try to squirm away as they grab my arms and pull me out of the van, but their grip is too strong.
The alley smells of garbage and filth, with rats scurrying along the walls and dumpsters overflowing with trash. It's a place where no one would want to be caught alone, especially not with these two men. They push me toward an old metal door at the end of the alley. My heart races as we approach it, wondering what horrors lay ahead on the other side. One of them knocks on the door, three sharp raps that echo through the narrow space.
A moment later, it swings open, and a figure steps out from the darkness. It's a woman, tall and pale with jet-black hair that falls in loose waves around her shoulders. She's dressed in nothing but a tight black dress that hugs every curve of her body.
“Welcome,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry. “I've been expecting you.”
My mind races as I try to make sense of the situation. Who is this woman? What does she want with me? And why did these men bring me here?
The woman steps aside and gestures for us to enter. Reluctantly, I take a small step forward, my heart pounding with fear and anticipation. The impatient men drag me inside, and the door slams shut behind us with an ominous thud.
I find myself in a room, similar to the van but on a grander scale. The walls are lined with metal chains and shackles, and various tools hang from hooks and racks scattered throughout the space. In the center of the room stands a large wooden table, stained with what appears to be dried blood. The woman motions for us to approach the table, and my captors shove me forward until I'm standing before it. The woman circles me, her eyes tracing every inch of my body.
“Such a pretty little thing,” she murmurs, running her fingers through my hair. “It would be such a shame to waste you, but unfortunately, you only have until I'm given the word.”
My mind swirls with fear and confusion as I stare up at her. Who is she? What does she want from me?
Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain at the base of my skull, and everything goes black.
When I come to, I'm lying on the wooden table, my arms and legs bound by heavy chains. The woman stands at the foot of the table, her black dress now replaced with a blood-stained apron.
“Welcome back,” she says with a smile. “I hope you slept well.”
I struggle against my restraints, but they hold me fast. The woman leans over me, her breath hot against my ear.
“You see,” she continues, “you're going to be a star in my little show. You're going to be the main attraction, and I promise it will be a performance to die for.”
A wave of dread washes over me as I realize what she means. She's going to kill me and make a spectacle of it.
But why? What have I done to deserve this?
As if reading my thoughts, the woman speaks again.
“Don't worry,” she says. “It's not personal. It's just business.”
She disappears from view, and I hear the sound of metal grinding against metal. When she returns, she's holding a large bone saw in one hand and a scalpel in the other.
“Now then,” she says with a smirk. “Shall we begin?”
“Wait,” the blond speaks up. “I just got a call. He wants us to hold but keep the live stream running. Her father is arranging to get the money now. Once we have it, you may proceed however you wish.”
So all of this is because of my father? Why am I not surprised? A lone tear escapes and runs down my cheek. I hate visible signs of weakness, but I'm unable to wipe it away. More tears fall from mere frustration.
“Well, in the meantime, I have shit I can be doing. I'm not going to babysit her for the cameras while she cries. It's pathetic,” the woman scoffs.
