her
pouty lips and high cheekbones. Sophie wasn’t genuinely pretty, but
beautiful, and I didn't think a person in the world would disagree
with that statement.
I smiled, and she returned the
gesture as she sat up. She took the rubber band from around her
wrist and tied her long dark hair in a low, tight
ponytail.
"I'm Lauren," I said, and reached
out my hand. It was the proper thing to do, and she grabbed it with
a firm handshake.
"Nice to put a face with the
voice," she said, then stood and stretched.
"The screaming woke me. Is that
normal?"
"You'll get used to it," she said
as she walked over to the bars that kept us incased in the small
room. The concrete was grey, and in the corner was a small puddle
of curdled blood. I looked down at the bottom of my pants and
realized that what I had stepped in last night wasn't water. The
terror slowly built inside of me, but I kept it there. I had too
many questions and needed answers, but I knew I wouldn't get
them.
"Is that . . . "
"Blood? Yes. The last girl was
killed in front of me. They thought it would break me, but I've
learned to shut myself down completely." Her voice sounded far away
and all I could do was stare at the dark puddle on the ground. "I
pray you aren't here as long as I have been, and if you are . . .
you'll learn to do the same." Her voice was almost as
whisper.
"How long have you been here
exactly?" I asked.
Sophie shook her head and took a
few steps back as a large man dragged a girl by her hair down the
hallway. The woman screamed and hollered, but he didn't pay her any
attention.
I stood and studied the woman. Tan
skin, dark hair, and thin . . . with brown eyes that seemed to see
right through me. "Please," she screamed at Sophie and me. "Please
help me."
I turned my head. I couldn't look
at her. Queasiness rose in my stomach, but I had nothing to throw
up, so I swallowed it down. I turned away, and the man opened the
door to our cage and threw the woman in. She lay on the floor
crying in a heap.
Sophie backed against the wall,
and I followed her lead. "It's Derrick."
"Who the hell is Derrick?" I
whispered.
"He's the leader of this group. I
fucking hate him with a burning passion."
I looked down at the woman on the
ground as Derrick entered the cell. Sophie didn't take her eyes off
him. She didn't bow down. I didn't care what he looked like. I
didn't want to remember that any of this happened.
"Sophie," he said with a thick
English accent, then reared his foot back and kicked the woman in
the stomach. She cried out in horror and pain and begged for him to
stop.
Derrick dropped down to one knee
and yanked the woman's clothes from her body. Sophie stared at him
without faltering as I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch any
longer.
When the cell doors slammed shut,
I looked down at him and regretted ever doing so. I focused on
Derrick with his dark wild hair and piercing blue eyes. Then I
watched the woman struggle to get away from him as he unzipped his
pants and spread her legs wide. As she continued to thrash, he
thrust himself into her and wrapped his hands around her
throat.
"Now, you'll lay there and fucking
enjoy it, or you're dead, bitch."
She stopped moving and held back
whimpers as he placed all of his body weight on top of her, pinning
her wrists down. Then he fucked her ravenously, like a wild animal,
forcing himself deeper inside of her. She squeezed her eyes shut,
and I watched tears stream from her face as his grunts filled the
room. Derrick wasn't human; he had no ounce of empathy in his body
as he tore his way through the insides of the poor
woman.
"Do you like watching me fuck,
Sophie?" he asked, but she didn't wipe the disgusted look from her
face or answer. Piercing blue-grey eyes met mine, and I almost
shivered. He licked his full lips, then smiled with perfectly
straight, bone-white teeth as he continued to fuck the poor
girl.
Minutes later, he was coming
inside of her, and when he pulled out, I saw drips of blood
pouty lips and high cheekbones. Sophie wasn’t genuinely pretty, but
beautiful, and I didn't think a person in the world would disagree
with that statement.
I smiled, and she returned the
gesture as she sat up. She took the rubber band from around her
wrist and tied her long dark hair in a low, tight
ponytail.
"I'm Lauren," I said, and reached
out my hand. It was the proper thing to do, and she grabbed it with
a firm handshake.
"Nice to put a face with the
voice," she said, then stood and stretched.
"The screaming woke me. Is that
normal?"
"You'll get used to it," she said
as she walked over to the bars that kept us incased in the small
room. The concrete was grey, and in the corner was a small puddle
of curdled blood. I looked down at the bottom of my pants and
realized that what I had stepped in last night wasn't water. The
terror slowly built inside of me, but I kept it there. I had too
many questions and needed answers, but I knew I wouldn't get
them.
"Is that . . . "
"Blood? Yes. The last girl was
killed in front of me. They thought it would break me, but I've
learned to shut myself down completely." Her voice sounded far away
and all I could do was stare at the dark puddle on the ground. "I
pray you aren't here as long as I have been, and if you are . . .
you'll learn to do the same." Her voice was almost as
whisper.
"How long have you been here
exactly?" I asked.
Sophie shook her head and took a
few steps back as a large man dragged a girl by her hair down the
hallway. The woman screamed and hollered, but he didn't pay her any
attention.
I stood and studied the woman. Tan
skin, dark hair, and thin . . . with brown eyes that seemed to see
right through me. "Please," she screamed at Sophie and me. "Please
help me."
I turned my head. I couldn't look
at her. Queasiness rose in my stomach, but I had nothing to throw
up, so I swallowed it down. I turned away, and the man opened the
door to our cage and threw the woman in. She lay on the floor
crying in a heap.
Sophie backed against the wall,
and I followed her lead. "It's Derrick."
"Who the hell is Derrick?" I
whispered.
"He's the leader of this group. I
fucking hate him with a burning passion."
I looked down at the woman on the
ground as Derrick entered the cell. Sophie didn't take her eyes off
him. She didn't bow down. I didn't care what he looked like. I
didn't want to remember that any of this happened.
"Sophie," he said with a thick
English accent, then reared his foot back and kicked the woman in
the stomach. She cried out in horror and pain and begged for him to
stop.
Derrick dropped down to one knee
and yanked the woman's clothes from her body. Sophie stared at him
without faltering as I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch any
longer.
When the cell doors slammed shut,
I looked down at him and regretted ever doing so. I focused on
Derrick with his dark wild hair and piercing blue eyes. Then I
watched the woman struggle to get away from him as he unzipped his
pants and spread her legs wide. As she continued to thrash, he
thrust himself into her and wrapped his hands around her
throat.
"Now, you'll lay there and fucking
enjoy it, or you're dead, bitch."
She stopped moving and held back
whimpers as he placed all of his body weight on top of her, pinning
her wrists down. Then he fucked her ravenously, like a wild animal,
forcing himself deeper inside of her. She squeezed her eyes shut,
and I watched tears stream from her face as his grunts filled the
room. Derrick wasn't human; he had no ounce of empathy in his body
as he tore his way through the insides of the poor
woman.
"Do you like watching me fuck,
Sophie?" he asked, but she didn't wipe the disgusted look from her
face or answer. Piercing blue-grey eyes met mine, and I almost
shivered. He licked his full lips, then smiled with perfectly
straight, bone-white teeth as he continued to fuck the poor
girl.
Minutes later, he was coming
inside of her, and when he pulled out, I saw drips of blood
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