Shotguns and Roses

Cold.

I feel like all I remember being anymore is cold.

One moment I'm warm cuddled around my bed mate Bexley, smooshed together on the small single person cot, Bexley's breath softly warming the back of my neck as she cuddles into my hair. And the next I'm face down on what feels to be icy cement.

My body is numb from the cold with only slight tingles and even slighter shivers being able to register in my brain, well that and this weird buzzing sound floating around my head. I try hard to push through the weird haze trying to keep me under but this feeling of utter defeat is screaming at me in every single one of my muscles.

I wanna give in to the need to sleep, want to escape this chill floating through the air but I can't, I can't because of this fucking buzzing. Grumbling I try as hard as I can to move my limbs, anything to just be able to push away from this incessant noise but I'm stuck.

Sighing in defeat I redirect my focus on the things seeming to require very little effort, like clearing this fog from my head enough that I can try to figure out what's making that sniffle like buzzing.

It take me what feels like hours but logically I know it's merely a few minutes before the fog slowly lifts and the annoying buzzing sound finally starts to become clear, only it's not a buzzing sound, it's crying. High pitched Crying.

Weird. Why would there be crying? Did we get another new girl? And why am I on the floor? Did Bexley kick me off the bed again? She knows if the elders find me on the floor one more time I'll be sent to the garden.

I absolutely loath the garden. It rolls off the tongue like it's a pleasant place but in actuality it's one of the worst places on earth. It's essentially a heated metal greenhouse filled with flower less sticker bushes that swell the hotter the room gets, spiked vines slithering along every edge of the tin box in search of water, doing anything it can to find it, And that includes burrowing into live hosts to get to it.

I unfortunately was born here at Leovellas home of Roses. I've spent my whole life in this place, in this room, and as such I've witness hundreds of girl perishing among the thorns. It's a chilling sight, almost as cold as the floor my bodies currently still stuck to.

More terrified cries sound from behind me, my body finally waking up enough to open my eyes. At first the image my mind is trying to make sense of is blurred, so completely out of focus I feel like I'm part of one of those cartoons where the characters run into a wall and the thing vibrates them around.

Trying so hard to take its actual shape that it's almost as if it's distorting it's self, it's a dizzying feeling really, One That makes my stomach roll, and my skin crawl.

Gulping in as much air as I can manage I use the force in my now burning lungs to clear the dizziness as best I can. Noticing for the first time that I'm not in my hall, that I'm not at my home in general. The floor I'm currently attached to by a string of drool and the sure jelly like feel of my body is dingy.

Where my home is polished white with glittering soft lines of gray spanning the room, this floor is rough, cracked with veins going in every direction like like a river cutting through the land. Little purple flowers bloom closest to me through the largest gap.

Feeling the tingle in my fingertips pulse to an almost painful ache I use it as a sign that my body is finally becoming my own again. Dragging my arm up is a chore, my skin skids across the broken flooring. Scraping a slight layer as it slides up towards my face and towards the beautiful little flower.

My movement is slow, slower than I've ever been and just as I'm about to finally touch the dot sized petal, a sharp pain radiates through my arm causing a gurgled scream to rip it's way through my vocal cords followed by the deep timber of a man's sharp correction.

"Danika, get your fucking heel off of the bitches arm before you bruise her!" With a irritated grunt the weight on my arm is removed and my arm is instinctively pulling it to my chest. Cradling it with as much care as my weakened state allows.

Dragging my eyes up I finally take in the woman who stepped on me. She's not a tall woman, maybe 5'7 but certainly taller than me at my short 5'4. Her skin is tanned with a little too much on show, her dress is cut seductively from the top of her breasts ending in a sharp v on her pubic bone.

The woman's face isn't what I would call ugly, she has a softer nose rather than a straight pointed one, the slight upturn to it almost unnoticeable as it blends into the rest. Her checks are full.. maybe even a tad too full on her face, and yet they highlight her eyes.

Eyes that are set wildly within bright crimson eyeshadow that Ombre into an ash like color as it flairs towards her temples, She's paired the harsh shades with an almost aggressive winged eyeliner. It makes her already dark eyes seem darker almost as if they're windows to the pits of hell.

Pits that are currently staring. sneering down at me as if she's trying to stare into my soul, like she's trying to figure out how something so insignificant could be laying at her feet. Her snare doesn't let up at she raises her eyes behind my head to where I'm assuming the man from earlier stands.

"Who gives a fuck if she bruises Diego, the men in that room only want her pussy, they don't give a fuck about her arm." Her harsh words are like knives to my nerves every inch of my body revolts at what she says, shivering in an attempt to pull away from her.

"The men in that room want undamaged, blemish free product. They pay high prices for the girls we import and even more for the girls from Leovellas." The man's tone rises as his anger hits a tipping point. Then suddenly heavy boots are stepping over me and into the woman's space, his oversized hands grabbing her throat before he lifts her off the ground slamming her into the wall.

Cracks splinter from the force of the woman's body, especially as she begins thrashing in his hold, her face turning a deep shade of purple as she fight for air. Her finger gab hold of his arm digging into his flesh so hard that blood begins to trickle down, and yet he doesn't stop, If anything he squeezes her harder.

It isn't until her arms finally release him and fall limp at her side that he eases up on her throat. Giant gulps of air forcing their way into her lungs as she trying to breath. But the man doesn't let go, if anything he pushes himself closer to her.

"That little bitch you don't care about bruising's cunt is worth more than 50 of yours. Leovellas doesn't trade in cheap trash, that bitch is a queen and will be bid upon as such. If you fucking misplace a hair on her fucking head I will give you to Leovellas to work in the Wilted Rose. You know what happens there don't you?"

The man says his question as a threat before pulling the woman back and slamming her against the wall harder than before. "Do you know what the Wilted Rose is? What happens there?"

The woman squeaks out a small yes before the man harshly drops her to her knees. "That is your fate if you touch my girls again, now get the fuck up and clean these girls up. I want them dressed and ready within the hour."

Sucking in another deep breath the woman pulls her self to her feet, not even taking another breath before she huffs out a yes sir. I'm so stunned with what I just witnessed I didn't even realized that I was unconsciously dragging myself backwards and away from the couple.

My body instinctively fleeing from the harm I know is soon to come to me. My movement are slow but by the time the man stomps out of the room my back is brushing up against something. At first thought I assume it's the wall, that is until it squeaks out a small whimper.

Turning my head at the noise I finally see what was making the crying sound when I woke. Huddled tightly in the Corner of the room are about a dozen terrified girls. All of them different shades and levels of beauty but beautiful none the less.

I try taking in their terrified faces, trying to see if among the crowd is a familiar face but I'm barely through 4 faces before the lot of them let out a collective terrified shriek hunkering down into each other harder, creating almost a wall of terrified girls.

Before I can turn my body around clawed finger snap around the back of my neck, sharp nails lightly digging into my throat before I'm yanked to my feet. I stumble on shaky legs the woman hissing the others “I know you dumb bitches heard Diego! Get the fuck up and into the showers now!” The last word not even fully out of her mouth before I'm dragged away and tossed into a spray of cold water.

I cant help it, the startled yelp that rips from my throat at the freezing contact, the instinct to run pulsing through my limbs that are pinching and tingling so badly that its a miracle I'm even standing right now. What am i going to do? Where even am i? How did i get here? A parade of questions flooding my mind as i stare at the woman who continues to bark orders at me, and the other woman who have now joined me under the water.

The woman's eyes are cold, calculating, as she surveys us, the harshness in her tone sends a chill deeper than the ice-cold water sloshing down my body. I want to scream, to push them away, to flee, but the weight of there presence, of the terrified woman around me. The silent, suffocating feeling pins me in place. My body shakes, not just from the cold, but from the dread clawing at my chest. What is this?

Burningly hot fingers grip onto my face the only reprieve from the freezing cold. “Diego says you’re a queen, that I'm supposed to play nice with you, but lets be real here, you’re nothing but a whore just waiting for its owner. Pft. Disgusting!” Sneering her words out before She spits at me, her saliva running down my chest along the cold current from the shower.

I hate that even now I lean into her, into the hand squeezing my face painfully, that the fear doesn't stop my body from seeking out out any type of warmth. I try to beg, to mumble for her to please tell me what's going on, to please just let me out of this stall, but nothing comes out. No words pass my trembling lips. Just small pathetic whimpers that have this woman's hand tightening tighter on my face and her sneer digging deeper lines into her face.

“Danika! I know you heard Diego! Get the girls dressed! Show starts in 5 minutes.”

Finally she let go of me, her arm shoving me back as she releases my face. I don't even care that my back his the cold tile wall. “You’re lucky little queen, damaging you is almost worth it, too bad ill just have to leave that to your new owner. Wonder if he’ll let me watch as he breaks you? I do love when you little whores bleed.”

Turning her back to me the woman Danika starts snapping at people i never knew were standing around me, at least 20 both men and woman in different states of activity drop what they're doing and rush over to me, drying me and yanking me in all different directions.

I barely have time to register the dress getting yanked over my head before someone else is yanking my hair, braiding it up into a fancy updo, another is putting make up in random spots on my body, mostly where Danika grabbed me. Then they’re working on my face. I've never been able to wear make up but i know what it is, at Leovellas we were given classes on how to properly apply makeup to hide bruises.

I never understood it at the time, hell i rarely understood the things we learned there…. Here? Where am i? I fear ill never find out, and I'm too scared to ask.

Barely a few minutes pass before I'm dressed and a nice looking young man is gently grabbing my hand and leading me into a line. As he tries to walk away i don't let him, gripping onto his soft hand for dear life.

“Please, where… where am i?” The words ive been desperate to say finally tumble out as the mans eyes widen, fear crossing his features as he tries to yank his hands from me, I'm weak, he could easily break my hold but i can tell he's trying hard not to hurt me, that like me he's terrified of this place, and the people within it. And yet i don't give up, i have to know “Please.”

His voice is low, trembling on words and he softly pries my fingers from him “you’re at the auction, I'm so sorry.” And with that he finally gets my last finger off of him and the only person to be nice to me since i woke up runs away like his life depends on it, and honestly maybe it does.

The air feels suffocating as the man darts around a corner his retreat leaving a trail of dread in the pit of my stomach. The moment his footsteps stop echoing into the distance, I feel the weight of the room press down on me again, thick and unrelenting. The others around me….. those strange girls who look just as terrified as I feel start to shuffle toward the stage. They’re pushed, prodded, like cattle being herded into some grotesque spectacle. I want to run, to scream, but my legs feel like they’re made of lead, my heart hammering in my chest.

A voice from behind me, sharp and cruel, slices through the silence. “Move,” it commands, and the pressure at my back is immediate, driving me forward without mercy. I take a shaky step, then another, my breath shallow, my head spinning. The auction… The words repeat in my mind like a twisted chant, but they make no sense. Who would buy us? For what?

I look around, hoping for some sign that maybe this is all a nightmare, but nothing changes. The girls ahead of me are pale, their eyes wide and hollow, as if they’ve already resigned to their fate. One of them stumbles, the others glancing at her with pity but no words of comfort. They don’t speak, don’t look at each other, as if talking might make them more vulnerable. And I…..I can’t even bring myself to move until the cold, rough hands of one of the guards shoves me forward again.

its not long before I’m next. It’s like my body’s betraying me, refusing to fight, then I'm lead by rough hands forward as I'm pushed up onto the stage. The lights are blinding, hot, and harsh, and I can hear the murmurs, the quiet laughter, as they all watch. The skin crawling feeling I've had since I woke up in this hell hole amp up as the feeling countless eyes rake all over my body.

They’re watching me. Calculating and weighing their options with me like I'm a trinket, something they haven't yet decided if I'm valuable or not. Disgust continues to curl through every one of my nerve as eyes continue to drift around the room, my mind is so focused on trying to find an escape that I don't even notice the man who comes up behind me.

Tell them your name, and why they should want someone like you.” his voice sneers, and I turn towards him, eyes wide, not understanding... why would I want to give these people a reason to want me?

“My name…?” My voice cracks, barely audible. I force the words through the lump in my throat. “Ezri.” for a single moment, the room goes utterly silent. The kind of silence that isn’t empty but waiting, coiling, ready to strike. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, the murmurs begin, low and insidious. A ripple of excitement spreads through the crowd, their hushed voices growing louder. Some smile, thin-lipped and cruel, while others lean forward eagerly, the gleam in their eyes turning my stomach.

the weight of all those eyes on me feels like they're getting heavier by the minute. My hands are trembling at my sides, and my heart is pounding so hard I swear everyone in the room can hear it. My throat is dry, and I want to curl into myself, hide, but there’s no place to go.

No escape.