Chapter 1
TRIGGER WARNING - Human Trafficking and Rape. Reader discretion is advised.
I open my eyes and still see only darkness. All my senses are dulled; sight and sound a hazy memory and I feel as though whatever I took last night is taking its sweet time wearing off. A woman’s voice, deep and slightly grating, begins to register and I barely make out the words “Finally… needed one… followed through,” none of which make sense to my addled brain.
The last I remember before this encompassing blackness is whispering “I love you” to my boyfriend of 3 years before falling asleep in my solo apartment, Gemini curled around my feet and purring his heart out.
Back in the present, I mumble something about my cat and who will feed him, taking a step backward as I think about potentially escaping whatever situation this is. A solid, warm mass stops me from moving too far and something large and warm grasps my upper arms from behind, pushing me back to where I was before.
My eyes start to clear, blurry shapes form with teals and greens, occasionally the flash of red, with a large pearlescent shape coming together in front of me while I shuffle forward from the not-so-gentle push from behind. A hand with sharp nails roughly grabs my chin, smooshing my cheeks into my teeth and tilts my head from side to side.
“Yes, she will do nicely. Very pretty. We will have many clients now that we have a human. The owner has been wanting an exotic for a while,” she seems to say to no one in particular, but then the mass holding me grunts in acknowledgement.
I reach up to try and shove her hands away, only to realize I cannot lift higher than my belly button. It dawns on me that I have chains on my wrists and they are connected to more chains around my ankles, only emphasizing the cold I suddenly feel. I look down and notice that I’m still in my night wear, my rugged tank and blue panties, full of holes from many nights of sleep.
My vision is finally clearing and the pearlescent form morphs into a figure, slightly taller than my five-foot seven, with a flat face, only slits for what appear to be nostrils, a wide grin showing off pointed teeth. She studies me with a keen glare, peering through thick glasses that make her purely blue eyes seem to take over the entire top of her face. She appears to have a black dress on, but it shimmers to create iridescence and I wish nothing more than my own gown like that. Hold on, I need to refocus on the present.
“Where am I?” I say with a raspy voice, as if I haven’t used it in days. That does not make sense; I talked to my boyfriend just last night. I also don’t understand how I got here or what I’m doing here, but one step at a time. Even with a million fears and thoughts crossing my mind, I still need to prioritize the basics. Once I know where I am, I can figure out how to get home.
“Oh, she does speak. Bit of an interesting accent, but that should clear up in time. We want our clients to expect the best, after all. Where is her agreement form?” Shuffling paper sounds close to my ear and I see blue forms being shown to the woman.
A weighty pause, and then, “no signature? She did not volunteer? What kind of a business do you think we run here?!” The woman gets more agitated with each question.
Another pause and some soft clicking sounds come from my right, “oh well, we might as well put her to use since she is here now. You may leave.” More clicking, slightly louder than before, but I still cannot turn my head to see where the noise is coming from before the woman responds, “your payment will be handled by reception. Head back to the front and give this to the attendant.” She hands over a smaller piece of blue paper, “they will make sure the credits are transferred appropriately.”
The clicking continues rapidly but fades quickly, followed by the slide of metal, almost like a door closing. It brings to mind my local grocery store and their new automatic door, recalling the town celebration we had almost 2 years ago now when we got the “newfangled fancy door”. Oh, the joys of living in a small town. Or used to live. I refuse to cope with these thoughts, focusing instead on the present and figuring out my situation.
Suddenly, the woman barks at me, “Name. Now.”
“Abbie,” rasps out from my lips before I think twice, coming out a little mangled with her hand still firmly clasped on my chin and jaw.
“Age.”
It takes me a moment to process before, “Twenty-three.”
“Huh, human years means you are just of-age here. Perfect. What experience do you have?”
That question does not make sense. What experience does she mean? “I just got a job as a bookkeeper at the grocery. I waited tables before…” My jaw is released and a sharp pain registers on my cheek when my head whips to the side from the force.
“Idiot. I told them we wanted experienced human volunteers. That smuggler will be reported,” the sound of a finger snap and then, “see to it!” More shuffling but I am too stunned to move, my eyes watering from the pain and the humiliation.
I hear a deep sigh from the woman in front of me before, “I guess we will have to fix this now. The owner explicitly stated only experienced volunteers, but we can fix one of those. It is too late to return her. Glor, have fun, you know where to put her afterwards,” the woman says, a smile just barely in her voice before I am suddenly on the ground.
A hand wraps around my ankle, above the chain and I am pulled across the floor; I barely have time to gasp, attempting to breathe in for the loudest scream of my life, when a hand covers my mouth and the ripping of cloth fills the air. My mind is still in the process of sorting through everything when my legs are forced apart, a sharp pain accompanies a large intrusion and I black out.
