One.
(IMPORTANT NOTE BEFORE READING: The Greek in this is strictly from google translate. I will have the English translation right next every foreign text, so it shouldn't matter in the slightest if it's incorrect. Having a different language in here is important to the story, as you will see soon enough. This story also contains horrendous material.
-murder
-gore
-emotional/physcial torture
-drug abuse
-forced sexual encounters (on a torturous spectrum)
-the complete abandonment and lack for human compassion. It’s awful.
Proceed with caution. Like, A L O T of caution. Mental health comes first. This story contains the worst parts of Stockholm syndrome and dissociative amnesia due to being involved with high abuse via a narcissist. NO HAPPY ENDING. NOT A SWEET ROMANCE.
No picture used, cover included, belong to me.
“Wake up.” I felt a boot kick me in the thigh, startling my eyes wide open. The spot that my body lay on the grey stoned floor was still cold, despite however long I was occupying it for. I looked up, meeting a ski-masked man that wore all black.
His brown orbs were strict, and I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious by the way he studied me with disgust. “Get off the floor!” He demanded through gritted teeth.
Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?
I sighed in discomfort, back filthy with a dull ache as I lifted myself to my sore feet. My clothes were gone, and all I wore was the bra and panties that I had put on the morning of my kidnapping. The man grabbed my arm roughly once I had balanced, and led me out of the fishnet cage that I was being held in.
There were girls everywhere in the large, dirty room. It resembled a cellar over anything else, but the vibe felt more along the lines of a medieval dungeon. The helpless females were almost nude like me, crying and begging for their lives as they were shoved into each other. Built frames wearing the same thing as the man dragging me began rounding all the girls up, strategically placing them in groups like they've done it a million times before.
The stranger pushed me into a party of at least twenty women and put a finger in my face. “Don’t you dare try to run unless you wanna get shot." His warning was lethal. "Yah hear me? Nod.”
I nodded furiously, afraid that the rest of his fingers will ball up and swing in my direction. He turned to the other man that I guessed was in charge of my specific party after giving me a suspicious glare. “They’re the elite group, or whatever. Get them their masks, and into the sorting area.”
The new stranger grumbled. “They’re all considered the best, and yet we still do the process of elimination? Makes no sense to me.”
“Yeah, well....we pick em’, and higher up has to agree. Or you know,” He moved his finger in the shape of a gun, pretending to shoot it once. “Pow.”
Some of the girls saw it, and I swear the volume of cries amplified.
The man agreed, clearly tranquil to the outbursts, and he glanced over at me before a wide smile of amusement stretched the fabric of his ski-mask. “Who picked her?”
My captor shrugged off any concern. “Not sure. She doesn’t fit the profile at all, but I mean...who cares, right? They’ll do the same thing to her as they do with the other rejects.”
Why was I here? I had tattoos, my frame was thick, and I had coarse, wavy black hair. I looked nothing like the rest of them. Their hair was straight to wavy, and different variations of blonde. They had virgin skin and very toned, slimmer bodies. Even with how terrified they were, there was no denying how much natural beauty was in this room. I was mediocre compared to these women.
“I’ll take her if they don’t." Sinful ideas twinkled through his hopeful words. "She’s a hot little thing."
A third man came over holding brown, woven bags in his gloved hands. “Here.” He handed them to the second man. “Have em' put these on so we can get this over with.”
They had no eye holes and the smell coming from the material was absolutely putrid. Mine had darker brown stains splattered on it, which I immediately realized was aged blood.
How many girls had worn this before me?
A large chain with multiple cuffs was brought out next, and the strangers wasted no time in shackling our ankles to form everyone in a clean line. The bags went over our heads, and we were blasted into darkness.
“Get fucking moving!” I heard a voice announce before the chain started to jingle noisily, forcing us to walk forward. It was only a short distance before my back was shoved up against a wall, and quivering arms touched mine.
The smell of blood reeked throughout the whole area, and I heard the sound of girls throwing up and gagging. I also listened as a number of male voices talking quietly amongst each other and were coming from in front of us.
“Everyone, shut the fuck up!” A man suddenly screamed, and the whimpering and crying quickly died down. None of these girls wanted to gamble with their life by not following orders, me included. “I’m going to start on this side." I can't fucking see where he's pointing if he is at all. "You will be judged one by one, and if you pass inspection, you can move forward into your rooms to get ready for auction. If you fail to meet demands of clients, then you die here.” I heard the noise of a different kind of metal, and my gut told me that it was a gun.
So, this is what's happening.
We’re being sold.
I still felt judgement on me from every direction, and I couldn’t help but feel like they were asking the same question as the men before: Who brought me here?
“What about this one?” He wasn’t talking to us.
“Legs are too small,” Someone mumbled.
“She’s toner than the rest of them, though.” Another countered. “She’d sell for high.”
I heard keys being sifted through, and the chain we were connected to started to move. After a click! noise, I heard a whimpering girl being taken up steps. There wasn’t hesitation before they started buzzing over the next female. How did I even get into this? The last thing I remembered was being at a party for the fourth of July, and then waking up here. I went with a few of my girlfriends, but I didn’t recall seeing them before being blinded by this gross sack. There must have been other girls here from the party, though. They all fit the profile much more than me-
A loud gun shot rang through my ears, along with a horrible splat! sound as girls erupted in panic screams. I stayed absolutely still; being hysterical will get me nowhere, here. I have to focus on becoming familiar enough with my surroundings to figure out how to escape. I heard more shots; it appeared that they were killing more girls than they were keeping.
“This bunch sucks,” Someone growled. “If this is the best we’ve got, then the boss is gonna butcher all of us.”
“You go out and abduct them, then!” I recognized the guy that had woken me up yelled in annoyance. “Ungrateful fuckers.”
I felt cold metal touch my bare stomach, moving upwards slowly. At first, I thought he was writing something in my skin before I realized he was tracing the outline of the rose tattoo on my sternum. The barrel of the gun glided down before it stopped right above my belly button.
This was it, wasn’t it? Damn. I always joked about wanting to die, but actually being this close to it? I could almost feel Death’s dark shadow standing behind me, impatient and all too eager to drag me down to eternal doom.
I’m not at all religious, but my silent prayers began as if I’ve been practicing them before bed for my entire life. I told my mom I was sorry that I never listened to her when she told me to be safe, and apologized to my dad for all the pain that I’m going to cause them both when they find my dead body after this was over. I told them that I loved them more than anything in the world, and even though I didn’t say it out loud often, I always meant it. Before I could finish, I heard the voice holding the deadly metal suspire lowly.
“Why the hell are you down here, Bee?”
I couldn’t hide my gasp as I stilled. How does he know my name? Between trying to put a face to the vocals and being in a state of utter confusion and nausea, I managed to stutter. “I-I don’t know.”
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, sounding unmistakably pissed off. “Which one of you stupid assholes brought her here?” He yelled angrily. It was directed at whoever was watching the massacre. “Well?!”
“There was a mix-up.” someone spoke up. The chatter from the others had completely died.
“A mix-up?” The gun holder repeated. “Does she look like someone who fits the description that the boss explicitly asked for?”
“Well, no...but-”
“Then why is she fucking here?” He repeated, louder this time. ” The request was tan skin and blonde hair. Tan skin.” He spoke slowly as if he was lecturing a child. “Blonde. Hair.”
“Too late to take it back, now,” He said indifferently. “Just shoot her and call it a day.”
“I’m not going to fucking shoot her!” He refused. “I know her.”
“You know her?” He was taken aback.
“Yes, idiot. I know her.” I heard keys being combed through before the man in front of me spoke softly, careful not to let the other men behind him hear. “I’m gonna unlock you, okay? I wish I could let you go, Bee, but I can’t. I am gonna get you out of this room, though, and somewhere where I can figure out how to deal with this.” He was starting to sound familiar. I couldn’t place how, nor did I know who, but I was certain that I’ve heard him speak before. He unlocked the shackles from my wrists, replacing one of them with his strong hand. “Let’s go.”
“No clue where I'm going...” I mumbled, trying my damnedest to see anything through the bag still covering my face.
“I’ll lead you.” He offered as he led me away, telling people to move out of our path as he did so. “Watch the stairs.” The first step caused me to stumble, put I managed to keep up with his pace as we moved quickly. I heard a door swing open, and cool air hit my bare skin instantly. I couldn’t stop myself from groaning in relief at how good it felt. I didn’t even realize how bad I was sweating down there until now. “Here.” The bag was swiped off of my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut before blinking multiple times so they could adjust to the light.
His tall, muscular frame stood in front of me. He was dressed like the rest of them; skin completely covered in black aside from the eye holes cut into the ski mask. I stared into his almost black orbs for longer than I should have, and he caught onto my motive quickly.
“I’m wearing contacts,” he said it in amusement. “And you're too much in shock for your brain to place a face to my voice so stop trying to recognize me."
I pursed my lips. Come to think of it, they all had the same-colored eyes down there. My own blues traced down his frame, stopping timidly on the gun that he still had clutched in his hand. He looked down at it as well, mumbling something incoherent before putting it securely in the rim of the back of his pants.
“God, “He turned away from me, frowning. It was like the sight of me this way made him uncomfortable, and he couldn’t bear to look at it. “I need to get you some clothes or something. And call the boss....and figure out how that jack ass downstairs could screw up this haul so badly and-” He growled. “Damn it. Out of all people that they could’ve fucked up with, it just had to be you.” He whipped out his cell phone, and nodded his head over to the table and chairs some feet to the side of us. “Go ahead and sit for a second.”
I obeyed as he turned his back to me, putting his phone to his ear. He made sure to stay almost mute so I couldn’t hear the conversation, but in all honesty, I wasn't that curious of what could possibly be said. I took this time to look around, to become familiar with my surroundings, and realized that I was in a dining area. There was a door open next to me, and I tilted my head to get a better view. Pots, pans, an island bar with clean dishes on it...a kitchen? Is this someone’s house?
I analyzed the rectangular oak table, running my finger along the growth rings still visible on the surface of the wood. There was a small plant in the middle, along with a silk black tablecloth under it.
Simple.
“Okay.” His tone was at normal volume as he shoved the phone in his back pocket whilst turning to face me. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
I hesitated. “Do I get to ask which one I wanna hear first?”
“I guess.” He crossed his arms.” Do you enjoy being disappointed immediately or do you prefer a nice glisten of hope first to soften the blow of the follow-up?”
My lips turned into a thin line. “You sound like my brother." I caught him stiffen when I said that, but pretended like I didn’t notice. I knew it wasn’t my stupid brother, and in the off chance that this guy knew him, it’d be a shot in the dark for me to guess who. Allen knows too many people from all over the country and he wouldn’t be able to help me if I ever got myself out of this mess. “Good news, I guess.”
“The good news is that you don’t have to die.”
“Perfect.” I didn’t mean for it to come out so sour. “And the bad?”
“The bad is that you can never go back home, and you will be living here in the main house from this point forward.”
I leaned back, eyeing him suspiciously. “Living here? Doing what?”
“Cleaning, mainly. A spot opened for a maid or whatever. Which-” He said quickly before I could make a gesture of protest. “Isn’t a bad deal, really. It’s the easiest job here. Except...there’s something else.”
I leaned forward in my seat, nodding my head a couple times to tell him to keep going. “Which is?”
“The boss has a son....and that son needs a pet.”
My brows furrowed harshly. “I’m sorry, what?”
He looked uneasy again. I found that super odd for a guy that didn’t think twice as he was blowing the brains out of innocent girls not even twenty minutes ago because they weren’t ‘pretty’ enough. “A pet.” He repeated. “You’re the bosses gift to his son, basically. Am I not wording this well or something? What aren’t you getting?”
There’s a better way to word it? “A gift for what, though?” I kept pressing. “Like a personal maid or?”
“Whatever he wants, Bee, I don’t know.” The grip on his arms tightened. “Probably sexual stuff, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”
I scoffed loudly. “You can’t put a bow on a flesh light and gift him that?” My savior widened his eyes at me for a moment before I saw a smile form behind his ski mask. “It’s not funny.” I slumped in the chair. “You didn’t shoot me cause this is what you think I prefer?”
“That’s unfortunate to hear,” he sighed with dismay, his smile quickly fading. “And even if you wished to die, it’s too late. The boss already made other plans, and until he gives the call, this is what you have to do. I’m begging you, though. Please do not go out of your way to piss him or his son off. They’re fucking relentless, Bee. They won’t shoot you because they’d view that as an easy way out for disrespecting them. No....it’d be endless torture.”
“How do you know? Have you helped them?” I ripped him an accusing look.
He shook his head. “No, but I've seen it. When maids act out of line, they get punished. The last one was hung upside down and had knives carved into her for hours until she finally bled out.”
My face twisted in pure disgust. “What did she do? Bite someone’s dick off?”
“No...” He murmured. “She got caught trying to steal a gun. I’ve seen the aftermath of them tearing men and women apart for little things that they deemed out of order. Even back talk will land you in hot water. So, please be good and listen. Don’t make yourself have to learn the hard way.” He pushed some of his long-sleeved shirt up his wrist, revealing his watch before tsking at the time. “We have to get you in order before your new master gets home.”
Master. Gag.
Before I got up to take his awaiting hand in defeat, I bit my lip nervously as I asked one more question pertaining to his involvement in my life before this disaster. “How well do you know me?”
He stared for a moment, debating on whether it was safe to answer me. “I’ve killed countless numbers of women. You’ve heard me do it today, and I can assure you that not one ounce of me felt any type of guilt, remorse, or anything along those lines. I’ve been doing it for a while, now. Seeing you in that room today was the first time I had ever felt my stomach drop, Bee. I wanted to fucking throw up. In fact, I don’t think I could ever face your family again after this. I was expecting you to be working in the manor, but I had no idea he was going to give you an owner. And his son, of all people.
If I did know, I would’ve granted you the option of making the choice to end your life.” The way he was talking swelled with sympathy. There was no mistaking how much he was pitying me. “I wouldn’t have been the one to do it, though. I would’ve given you this gun and told you to do it yourself. I really wish you would’ve stayed home that night instead of letting your friends peer pressure you into going out.”
Me too.
cool