AVA'S P.O.V
-----------------
I shamefully glanced at Leslie, stifling a sob at the tears in her eyes.
I shook my head.
Pashvik stormed back in as her head swayed from side to side in contradiction.
"I will only ask this once," he spoke loud and clear into the room, hushing everyone in an instant, "who closed the door for this," he twirled the gun he was holding in my direction as though looking for the right word to say, "thing on the night she'd planned to escape?"
A heavy pause seized the room.
My eyes stayed glued to the ground.
A moment passed.
"Alright," he shrugged nonchalantly then reached into the trolley and pulled out a matchbox.
As he drew closer to me, I stared as his feet moved towards me, up, down, up, down, then he reached up with a little groan. He lit the match and tugged at my almost destroyed thumb.
I had gone through worse, way worse, but the thought of the pain to be inflicted again had me stiffening and my knees locking.
The girls gasped and whispered amongst themselves.
Closing my eyes, I held my breath.
He pulled on my finger, yanking my hand down as much as my bonds would allow, and turned it over so the flesh beneath my missing thumbnail hovered above the flame.
Without hesitation, the orange flame enveloped it.
The darkness reached for me just then, swathing me in the shadows of piercing silence and I welcomed it.
A pungent odor of burning flesh mingled with the coppery stench of blood that permeated around the room.
I barely paid attention to the burn as I sank lower and lower.
Where was the silence taking me?
"I did it! It was me; please stop! Please!" Someone cried out, effectively pulling me out of the shadows.
I raised my head.
Leslie!
Pashvik nodded as if he knew it was her all along and without a second thought, he fired at her head.
Leslie stumbled back.
Her eyes were glazed, still focused on Pashvik then she tumbled forward, head smashing into the floor with a deafening crack.
Hysteria broke out.
Whimpers, tears, and wails filled the room as the girls were caught at a crossroads: whether to reach for Leslie's body or to stay put.
I couldn't look away.
Whatever sensations I had left in my knees mangled into a feeble mess.
She couldn't be dead.
I hung my head, a strangled sob escaping me.
Leslie!
Before I could gather the little spit in my mouth and launch it at Pashvik, the door yawned open and the overall Head, stepped in.
His face contorted in disgust as he scanned the hushed room, his nose scrunching and rising high in the air.
My eyes drifted to the veiny scar on his right cheek then over his sunken features.
Cruel monster.
I'd witnessed many girls suffer from seizures and hallucinations after he'd doped them up whenever he wanted to do something strange.
Even in tears, they constantly went back if it meant they could get one nostril full of deadly powder.
I always made sure to steer clear of him. It was a surprise that he'd never called for me.
Thin shades of his silvery hair brushed atop his ears and the usual touch-me-and-I'll-shoot-you scowl was fixed in place.
He took a step further in when something squished beneath his Oxfords. Everyone turned to look. He angled his foot to the side and stiffened.
"Get it off or I'll feed you to my dogs," he barked at Guila. She rushed over and hunched down, shuddering as she peeled off something that looked very much like human flesh.
Stan glared at her for a second then swiped the bottom of his shoe over her bare feet. She grimaced, pursing her lips at the trail of blood and grime.
Instantly dismissing her, he straightened his two-piece, brown suit and focused on the only other man present.
"Pashvik, let's talk outside."
My tormentor straightened, shoulders relaxing as he padded lightly to the door, stepped out, and slammed it close behind him. Two uniformed men walked in right after and stationed themselves at my sides.
Guards?
I cowered as they inspected my state. After a couple of seconds, the shorter one marched out, leaving the other behind.
Just then Les' roommate, Jilly, cried out and dropped to her knees. Skitty buried her face in Remmie's neck, her body trembling.
Jilly pulled on Les's lifeless foot as if trying to yank her back to life.
I bowed my head in shame. This was all my fault. If I'd listened to her none of us would have been in this mess. A tear rolled down my cheek. She'd still hoped that her family would find her and take her home. That she'd be saved from this prison.
What have I done?
There was a sudden shout at the door and swiftly, Jilly snatched Leslie's anklet, allowed Guila to help her to her feet, and swiped her tears away.
The guard who'd walked out earlier returned with a stout, greying man holding a supply bag. Stepping close to the other guard on my side, he waved him back. I recognized the faint smell of chlorine and saline and frowned.
Did they bring a doctor? Didn't they want me dead?
The doctor casually stepped over the expanding pool of blood and set his bag on the ground, his wrinkly face giving nothing away as he set to cleaning my wounds.
I hung there numbly, unable to look away from Les's body which was now turning an odd shade of white.
This wasn't supposed to be our end. We'd planned so much together and been through so much together. Death could not destroy it all.
"I've finished with what I can," the doctor straightened after twenty somber minutes and pulled off his bloodied gloves, "the rest need to be attended to in a medical room; most of her wounds are internal."
The guards must have done something in reply because the doctor nodded, packed up his equipment, and marched to the door.
Pashvik stomped in just as the doctor was about to leave and from the reddening of his face and clenching of his fists, he clearly hadn't been told he was getting a raise.
It looked like it physically hurt him to step to the side and allow the doctor to shuffle past.
Struggling to pull on a cool mask, he managed to give the guards a stiff nod of consent. They immediately latched onto my bindings and began unraveling them.
Was this some type of joke? They were actually releasing me?
I scrutinized their actions from under my swollen eyelid as they pulled off the last of the ropes around my wrists.
Were they going to stab me to death in the process?
Was I going to be sent somewhere where they could finish the job faster?
Did they bring the doctor so they could start all over again when my bruises healed?
My heart raced at the frightening possibilities.
When the binds slithered off I tumbled forward, my body drained of any strength but the guard snatched me before I could face plant the floor.
Finally free of the binds squeezing my ankles, I was dragged past the confused girls and Leslie's mangled body then out of the door to face the last person I would have expected to see.
He quietly took in my battered appearance, his face hardening as his gaze trailed lower and lower.
Those large hands slid into his pockets as he spoke for the first time to my hearing.
"Take her to my chopper."
I diverted my eyes to the wooden floor, tears burning in them as I was lugged away from the broad-shouldered client I'd been fantasizing about for weeks.
His heavy presence was a startling shock but what was more of a miracle was the realization that I was leaving alive.