And then, five men stepped inside, their boots pounded heavily on the floor, each step a thunderous warning, their voices low and menacing as they spoke to one another in a language I couldn't understand. Sophia's hand gripped my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she leaned in close, her voice barely a whisper. "Don't let them take you. Do whatever it takes."
Before I could even react, one of the men grabbed my arm, his fingers tightening around it like iron. The pressure made my bones creak, and I gasped in pain as he yanked me away from Sophia. Her voice, high with fear, reached my ears as they dragged me farther, but I couldn't reach her. She was slipping away, her cries a fading echo in the distance.
The torchlight flickered and cast erratic shadows on the walls as they moved, the snake tattoos on their forearms seeming to slither and mock us. One of them shoved a coarse black sack over my head. The fabric scraped against my skin like sandpaper, stifling my ability to breathe. I could hear muffled voices around me, but everything felt distorted, like I was trapped inside a haze.
They unlocked my leg chains with a rough jangle, and I instinctively kicked out, thrashing, but a voice-low and thick with a Russian accent--growled, "Ah, she hit me!" A moment later, a punch landed in my stomach, and the air rushed out of my lungs. I gasped, pain blooming in my chest as I stumbled forward, trying to regain my balance, but their grip on me was unyielding.
The sack over my head made the world feel distant, like I was existing in some half-dream. The only sounds were the heavy thud of their boots and the muffled voices that I couldn't make sense of. I could feel my legs trembling beneath me as they pulled me forward.
As they dragged me away, Sophia's cries were muffled by the sack. My heart raced as I realized I was completely at their mercy, my legs trembling beneath me. We had seconds before they dragged me away, and Sophia's distant voice echoed through the darkness. My leg chains were unlocked, but my hands remained bound. They hauled me along, speaking Russian. I saw the faint outline of Cyrillic letters on a sign. The sound of distant traffic hummed through the air. A chill ran down my spine as I realized where we were: we weren't in a familiar territory. The realization hit me like a blow: we were no longer in the safety of the known. We were:
"Russia."
I was thrust into a grimy, dimly lit vehicle and sped away into the night, my hands bound and my head reeling. The men's laughter and shouts were muffled, but their malicious intent was unmistakable, like a cold wind that sent shivers down my spine. As I thought of Sophia, left behind in the darkness, a knot formed in my stomach, and my chest tightened with anxiety.
When the vehicle came to a halt, the world around me tilted, and I was roughly pulled out into the chill night air. My legs buckled beneath me, weak from the rough handling, and I was shoved up a set of creaky stairs that groaned under the weight of those pushing me forward. My heart raced in panic. Every movement felt like an eternity.
A door opened with a groan, and I was thrown inside. The sack was ripped off my head, and the dim light of a dirty, dank chamber revealed stone walls that closed in around me. A small, high window let in just enough light to cast deep shadows, and the air was thick with the smell of mildew, stale sweat, and something more sinister-something I couldn't quite name. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the cold stone floor, my hands still bound. The harsh chill seeped into my skin as I tried to steady my breath, struggling to clear my dizzy head.
I barely noticed the movement in the corner of the room at first. A figure huddled in the shadows, small and hunched, like a wounded animal. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, my mind conjured horrific possibilities-was it some sort of beast, a monster lurking in the darkness?
My fear turned to caution as I crawled toward the corner, trying not to startle the other occupant. Through the moonlight, I saw a small stainless plate on the floor, like a discarded shard of hope. I picked it up, hesitant, and threw it at the figure.
"Ahhh!" a voice shrieked, like a bird taking flight. "You crazy bitch! Are you insane?"
I froze, my breath catching. The figure slowly emerged from the shadows-a girl, her eyes glinting with defiance, her posture defensive. She was smaller than me, but she carried herself like a fighter, as though she was used to survival. Her eyes bored into mine, and I immediately felt the weight of her hostility. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, realizing she was human. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to confirm if..."
She cut me off, her voice firm, like a door slamming shut. "Stay away from me, weirdo, unless you want me to kill you before those men come back for you."
"I'm not looking for trouble," l muttered, unsure of how to approach her. The last thing I needed was another enemy. Her lip curled into a sneer. "Then stay the hell away from me, or l'll make you regret it.
I didn't dare push it. She wasn't like me-not even close. I could see the darkness in her, a fierceness that sent a chill down my spine. She wasn't going to be my ally, not without a fight, and I had no intention of provoking her further
The hours dragged on in silence. I stayed on the cold stone floor, trying to ignore the shaking in my hands and the gnawing hunger that clawed at me. Sleep refused to come, and the darkness around me seemed to press in even harder as the hours passed. I kept thinking about Sophia, wondering what had become of her. Had they taken her too? Or was she left behind?
As morning crept in, the cell transformed from a dark pit to a dimly lit chamber. The faint scent of mold and decay wafted through the air, mingling with the stench of sweat and fear. I gazed around, taking in the drab stone walls, the rusty iron door, and the small window high above, its bars casting eerie shadows on the floor.
My eyes landed on the girl, still sitting in the corner, her back against the wall, her face tilted towards the door, her eyes closed. Unlike me, she wasn't shackled. Her net-like clothes clung to her body, exposing her bruised neck and tattooed legs. A pink-tinted lock of hair fell across her forehead, and a choker chain glinted around her neck. I wondered if she was a hooker, but her fierce aura made me hesitate.
As I stared, she snapped her eyes open, her gaze piercing. "Stop staring at me, or you'll find your eyes on the ground," she growled, her voice low and menacing. I flinched, my heart racing.
"Whoa, i muttered, trying to deflect the sudden urge of fear that flooded me. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,"
Her eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with venom. "What did you say?" she demanded, her posture shifting as if she might pounce.
I gulped, realizing too late I had spoken my thoughts aloud. "-I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean-
"You didn't mean what?" she growled, her hand shooting out to grab my arm. "You better start making sense, or I'll make you regret it.
Anger surged through me, overriding my fear. I yanked my arm back, my patience at its breaking point. "Alright," I snapped. "I've tolerated your attitude long enough. Stop it."
Her face twisted in fury, her cheeks reddening as she leaned in. "What did you say to me?"
Before I could react, she lunged, fingers reaching for my hair. Instinct took over. I kicked out, my chained hands connecting with her face. She stumbled back, eyes wide in shock as a red mark blossomed on her cheek. Just as she was about to pounce, the door creaked open, and three men entered, their heavy footsteps echoing off the walls. They dragged her away, leaving me shaken and relieved.
Her wild protests fading as they dragged her down the hallway. I could still hear her screaming, the sound sharp and frantic. One of the men approached me, unlocking the chains around my wrists with a grunt. "You're trying to get yourself killed," he said flatly, his tone barely registering as concern.
I rubbed my sore wrists, the roughness of the chains still fresh in my mind.
Thanks for saving me from that psychopath," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The man said nothing more, just turned and left. I was alone once again, my thoughts swirling with questions. Where had they taken her?
Later, a tray of food and water appeared under the door, accompanied by a gruff voice with a thick accent. "Eat." The aroma of rice and brown soup wafted up, making my stomach growl with hunger. I hesitated, wondering if it was poisoned, but my body betrayed me, and I devoured the food like a starving animal. The taste was bland, but the texture was satisfying, and the water quenched my thirst. As I ate, I felt a surge of strength and determination.
As darkness settled once again, I sat lost in thought, pondering my misfortune and wondering if anyone had noticed my absence. The door creaked open again, and the men returned, their rough hands gripping my arms with a force that made my knees buckle. "Move," one of them barked in his thick Russian accent. I attempted to struggle, but their grip was unyielding. With a man on either side, their hold on my arms like a vice, I reluctantly obeyed and followed them out of the cell. There was no escape, no hope. The passage beyond, lined with identical doors, left me bewildered as to where I was. The air reeked of mold and decay. They dragged me to a large bathroom, where 12 men stood guard, watching as girls bathed. I froze in horror, wondering if they expected me to join them.
Glancing around, I saw three girls bathing to my left, a maid standing by with a basket of towels. She was dressed in a revealing housemaid costume, her uniform a stark contrast to the sadness etched on her face. Did she work here? I wondered. Three more girls bathed to my right, completely naked, with another maid holding towels and dressed in the same attire. A girl cried while bathing in front of me, her sobs echoing off the tile walls. The men pushed me forward, and then a maid approached me. "Remove your clothes," she ordered brusquely, her voice firm but laced with a hint of disdain. "Hell no!" I protested, trying to sound braver than I felt. She glared at me, slapping me hard across the face. "You don't say no, you only do what you're told," she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.
I wanted to attack her, but the scene was drawing attention. Seeing the men watching with guns, I knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill me if I delayed. So I reluctantly removed my clothes and showered without complaint, feeling the warm water as a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping my heart.
As I stepped out of the bathing area, the cold air enveloped me, making my skin prickle. The maid handed me a towel, and I wrapped it around my shivering body, the fabric rough against my skin. I followed her to a dressing room-like space, the scent of stale air and sweat hanging heavy. Guards watched us with guns, their eyes cold and unyielding.