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His To Own by Autumn Winchester (2)


Chapter 2

 

Avidya

 

Loud male voices reached my ears, hours or maybe it was days, later. My body was stiff and sore. The blindfold was still covering my eyes, but I could tell it had slid around as I slept. Part of my nose was now covered. That alone made it harder to breath.

 

My heart was beating in my chest, letting me know I was in fact, alive. I had desperately hoped I wouldn’t wake up. It would have been so much better than facing the unknown. I couldn’t understand a word that was spoken by at least two males. They seemed to be right outside the room I was held captive in, I didn’t dare make a noise to draw their attention.

 

What were they talking about? Was it about me? Had Becca’s body been found? I was sure she was dead as her scream still echoed inside my head. There was no use trying to stop the tears that began soaking the rough blindfold. I must have made some sort of whimper, causing the men to instantly stop talking.

 

Heavy footsteps entered the room, pausing only inches from me. It frightened me to the core and only made me sob harder than before. What was going to become of me?

 

“How long has it been since the head injury?” the man spoke as he kneeled down, his knees popping in the quietness of the room.

 

“Day or two,” answered a low voice. “Can’t say for sure. The one that brought her in is no longer with us.” Both of their voices had had an Italian accent to them, one more than the other.

 

“When do you expect her to be sold?” the grouchier voice asked.

 

“Oh, as soon as possible,” the lower voice answered, almost hurriedly. “She’s a debt to be repaid.”

 

Apparently, the man closest to me already knew that or didn’t want to know whose debt I was being used for. It made a million more questions pop up.

 

Did I know who had basically sold me off? Or was I just a random nobody being at the wrong place at the wrong time? Did it even have anything to do with who I was?

 

“When?” the man spoke as he removed the blindfold from around my head. His fingers, when he grazed my skin, was much warmer than I expected. Although he tried to be gentle, not sure why it mattered, but my hair was tangled in the tie behind my head. His fingertips were rough from long hard days of work.

 

I had to blink a few times, squinting, as my eyes adjusted to the light. The light from the middle of the room was too bright. It didn’t help my head or my queasy stomach.

 

Clenching my eyes tight, I gagged, feeling as if I was spinning in circles. Maybe I was in a circus doing all the spinning while everyone watched.

 

“The usual?” the man asked as I willed myself to not react to anything around me before feeling my bladder release. It was better than puking, at least.

 

“Do you have to ask?” sneered the man. “Just hurry up.”

 

The man slowly pushed me onto my back by my shoulder, and I slowly opened my eyes to look at him. His gray hair was combed over his balding spots. Looking into his pale eyes, I could see that he pitied me. He felt sorry for the position I was now in. And there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe he was as much of a prisoner as I was now.

 

I wanted to fight him as he checked my body over from head to toe. I really did, but my brain shut down, knowing it would do no good. He was gentle, though. Muttering to himself, he took blood samples and then gave me something for the pain, though I had no idea what. He said it’d help with the headache I was dealing with.

 

~oOo~

The next time I awoke, although still weak, I did feel better. My head only slightly throbbed in the tune of my beating heart. My eyes were swollen and mattered closed. I was still alive. Was that a good thing or bad thing? Did it matter?

 

Keeping my eyes closed, I took stock of how I felt. Although mostly naked from the doctor’s check over, I was in one piece. Nothing seemed to be missing or in more pain than before.

I was still chained to the wall and didn’t have the energy to fight or try to escape. I didn’t have much chance of getting away even if I had all my strength.

 

Slowly, I opened my eyes, meeting the lone light bulb on the chipped ceiling. Rolling my head, I saw just how small the room was. There was another set of three chains bolted to the walls.

Had these rooms been filled to the brim? Would I be here long enough to find out?

 

There were no windows, and the only doorway was doorless. I wasn’t sure that frightened me more or helped to keep calm. Why was I so calm anyway? I knew logically, I should be fighting in panic, but I was just . . . numb.

 

Numb to everything.

 

Rattles of chains from other rooms echoed to my ringing ears. I knew there were others here, wherever this was. How many others were there?

 

With a sigh, I closed my eyes, picturing what my parents were doing. Were they looking for me? Did they know I was missing?

 

I highly doubt that they knew yet. Maybe in another day or so after I missed a few check in calls that were demanded of me. My parents tended to always overreact, and I knew they had good reasons. That didn’t mean they couldn’t let me breathe a bit.

 

Growing up, I was forced into a tight schedule. My mother threw a fit if I was ever late getting home, even when I had practice for a sport. Dad was even stricter, though. I wasn’t allowed to date, let alone look at any boys, hence why I attended an all-girls school. Heck, I hardly even could go to Becca’s house for a night.

 

In our house, we didn’t have TV. There was one computer, old as I was, and any internet I used was monitored. It was in my father’s office, and usually only used by him for his work.

 

The only way I was even able to spend the night at Becca’s this time, was because both of my parents were out of town for a seminar in Texas. It didn’t matter that I was eighteen, and very capable of taking care of myself.

 

Becca was getting ready to move out, tired of her parents fighting over every little thing, which I couldn’t blame her. She had been saving every dime she had to rent a small apartment on her own to get out from under her parent’s roof. She was not the sweet innocent girl she made everyone believed she was.

 

My best friend wasn’t a party girl, but she had explored a number of things, finding out what she really wanted to do and who she wanted to be. She fought tooth and nail to not follow what her parents wanted from her. Becca was the most determined out of the two of us to make her own way in any way she could.

 

~oOo~

 

I must have dozed off thinking of Becca, as I woke up to the feeling of being watched. No, not watched, stared at. As my heart thumped widely in my chest, I kept my eyes closed. Even with the feeling that my skin was crawling with a million tiny bugs.

 

“Какие красивые сокровища,” (what a beautiful treasure) the one watching me said quietly. It sounded as if he was speaking to himself, but the foreign words made me shutter.

 

I knew the words were spoken in Russian, but only because my father did a lot of work with a few Russian’s over the years. Although he didn’t speak about what went on, father always wanted to help anyone that needed it. From giving shelter to the homeless, or just being an ear to listen, he was there. It was his job, he’d say when I’d asked as a child. Seemed simple to a child’s mind.

 

“Shelomi,” spoke a rough voice. The same voice that belonged to the man that had taken me. Who was he?

 

“What?” the one that still refused to drag his eyes away from me grumbled.

 

“You were told to take the merchandise to be cleaned,” seethed the man.

 

“And I will,” the dark voice replied. I could practically feel the hatred within the room.

 

“Get to it. We are not to waste time,” the other man barked out.

 

It was then that I opened my eyes, and instantly wished I hadn’t. I was met with a pair of the darkest eyes ever. They even suppressed Hell in the depths of promises of pain and torture.

 

Blinking, I pushed myself further into the flooring, although I couldn’t possibly be any closer unless I was part of the floor. That really didn’t seem such of a bad idea. I’d gladly go to Hell than be here facing the devil.

 

The man’s face, what I could see of it through the long strangled black hair, had a week’s worth of hair around his chin and jawline. His thin cheekbones were high upon his dark face.

 

“Well, hi there, treasure,” he said, letting his lips spread into a wide, wicked grin. I noticed that his slightly yellowing teeth were missing one on the bottom row.

 

I remained unresponsive, not sure what he wanted or what he was going to do to me. I didn’t want to know anyway. I’m sure my eyes were wide in fear, as my heart continued to beat faster.

 

After what felt like hours, the nameless man unhooked my wrists. His skin was too warm against my own; it was nearly nauseating. He kept his smirk in place the entire time. I was never more thankful for the flimsy hospital gown that the so-called doctor had slipped on me hours ago after giving me an injection filled with more than just pain relief if the dazed way I felt said anything about it. Everything seemed to be a blur amongst blurs.

 

How long had I been here?

 

“Now, you won’t try to fight me, will ya?” he asked daringly. He wanted me to try that, just for his own sick pleasure. His dark eyes asked me to, nearly begging me to give him reason to use whatever force on me that he was capable of.

 

I quickly shook my head, fearing him; fearing my own life. Not that it was much of a life compared to some.

 

“Now, up you get,” he seethed as his too warm hand roughly went around my upper arm, forcing me to stand.

 

A wave of dizziness took over, but as my vision danced before me, his strong hold kept me upright. He laughed as though this was a game to him. Maybe it was. He seemed as though he was the type of sick bastard who enjoyed the pain of others. He lived off the fear of those around him.

 

It was a fight to keep myself standing and eyes opened as the man dragged me along. Who knew where I was headed now. The tiled floor was uneven as my feet moved on their own accord. A few places on the floor were still unkempt, catching my bare feet, cutting painfully into the tender flesh.

 

The hallways were dimmed, but glancing into the rooms that we passed by, I saw that there were others. Others chained to the walls. Some could be heard crying, begging to be let go. Even asking for death.

 

What was this place?

 

The man finally pulled me into a room that was set up as a shower room. There was another girl dressed in tight clothing and what appeared to be perfect black hair pinned up in a tight ponytail. She gave me the fakest smile imaginable as the man dragged me along.

 

“Vanesa, be a doll and get her ready,” the man said, pushing me towards her. I nearly fell over my own two feet before I could right myself. He laughed as I fought to keep myself upright.

 

“Yes, sir,” she spoke, refusing to make eye contact with the man, her hands clasped in front of her and head slightly bowed. Was she giving him her corporation? Why?

 

“You have an hour,” he barked before leaving the room.

 

“Come,” she said. “Shower. Then hair and dress,” her voice was softer as she addressed me.

 

I couldn’t help but look at her better, taking in how skinny and unhealthy she looked. Dark, sunken in eyes and her bones almost poked out in spots. She looked as though she was starving herself to death. She probably was, with being forced to be here.

 

A shower did sound wonderful, though. I had no idea how long I had been here, and I wasn’t willing to know just yet, if at all. Did it even matter?

 

There wasn’t much room inside the three shower stalls that were blocked off by pieces of plastic that acted like shower curtains. They went from the ceiling to about a foot from the floor.

 

Turning on the shower, I found that there was at least warm water. I dropped my gown and then stepped in, letting the water clean my chilled body. My skin still felt as though bugs were crawling over it, making me itchy inside and out. How long was this feeling going to last? What was going to happen to me?

 

I knew there was no point in fighting as I was completely at the mercy of the hands that brought me here. There had to be a reason why, hadn’t there? I would find a time to fight, and I’d fight till I was no longer breathing.

 

After finishing with the quick shower and using the world’s most horrible shampoo and body wash, knowing that there was a time limit and I didn’t want to get the other girl in trouble, I wrapped a stained scratchy towel around my body. I was quickly motioned to sit in the chair that was sat beside a small off white card table. Vanessa began to brush my light blond hair out. It was so blonde that it looked white in the sunlight sometimes. It was the one thing everyone always commented on, besides my bright blue eyes.

 

I wasn’t like my friends, nor my parents in that department. Father had dark skin, while mother had lighter skin like me, I was still like a fish out of water when compared to anyone else. My skin was so much lighter than my friends, and I was just . . . . it didn’t seem like I was the same type of person all around as anyone else in the community that I grew up in. Even against Venessa’s sun-kissed skin, I was like a pale light left out in the open.

 

“Once your hair is done,” she spoke, her voice quiet as to not travel much farther than where we were at. “There is a pile of clothing for you that Sir brought in.”

 

I simply nodded. What was I to say to that? There wasn’t really anything I could say. I didn’t want to meet this man that I would have no say in meeting within a few minutes.

 

“A word of advice,” she spoke as she gently, but quickly, brushed my hair out, catching every tangle there was. “To be able to live without too much pain, just do whatever is commanded of you. Unless you wish a painful death.”

 

“What will happen to me?” I asked fearfully as she moved in front of me to do my makeup, no doubt covering up the bruise that surely covered part of my face. What did I look like? Was any part of me still intact from who I once was?

 

“What all of us girls are here for,” she answered with a small smile. “But it doesn’t matter in the end. Some of us are put to work in the club upstairs, some are sold off to wealthy men that want their bed warmed. Some are here to show the other girls what will happen if we fight against the men that have us.”

 

“How long have you been here?” I asked out, not sure I truly wanted to know that answer.

 

“I really don’t know,” she replied with a sad shrug. “There is no escaping, so don’t even try. Most of us are thankful that we have a place to sleep, as it is better than living on the streets. We had nothing before now, so being here is at least a dry place to sleep.”

 

“But I can’t, not try,” I said, blinking back tears. I would try.

 

She simply shook her head, finishing with dolling me up. She acted as though she knew. Knew that I would try and knew what would become of me in a matter of hours. Would I be kissing death in the face, or would I get away?

 

Once she was done, she pointed to the pile of clothes that sat on the table that I was to wear. She didn’t seem shocked by what was there as I took ahold of the dark dress. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t a gown like this.

 

The dark dress was simple with a round neckline and thin straps across my shoulders. Once I slipped it on, I found it be surprisingly comfortable as it covered my feet. It flowed in soft waves around my legs in a silky manner. Considering what Vanessa wore, this dress was like a blanket. Her clothes, if you could call them that, covered what was necessary and that was it.

 

“You must be a gift,” she mused, fixing my hair so it fell over my shoulders and around my breasts. “Lucky. Or maybe not so lucky.”

 

She seemed as surprised as I was with all of this, whatever this was. Was it not a normal thing to be dragged here for this purpose?

 

There was no mirror in this room and probably for a good reason. Even so, I felt almost pretty in this black dress. It was not something I would normally wear, but I found the dress to my liking.

 

“You’ll be okay,” Vanessa spoke right before the man that had dragged me in here came back. She instantly looked down to the cement floor, as if he would burn her alive for just seeing his face.

 

“You did wonderful work,” he praised, looking me over. “Impressive. I almost want to keep you myself, сокровище.” (Treasure)

 

I couldn’t help but shiver in disgust. Was he for real?

 

With an evil smirk, he marched towards me and took my hands, tying them together tightly with brown rope. It cut into my skin.  When I attempted to pull them back, he used his thumb, putting pressure on a point that instantly made me stop fighting as pain shot up my arm. His amused laugh echoed around the room.

 

“Now, since you can’t be fighting me,” he spoke darkly, withdrawing a needle filled with liquid from his back pocket of his jeans.

 

“No,” I pleaded, having no idea what that was. I slowly took a step backward, my feet taking me on their own account, as my eyes widened as big as saucers.

 

I backed into the table, caged with nowhere to go. I refused to be injected with whatever that was.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he sang, stalking towards me. The slap echoed around the room, the side of my face stinging as his hand met my cheek.

 

The force of the surprising hit caused me to fall sideways into the table, my ribs taking the brunt of the fall. It gave the man the perfect opportunity to stick the needle into my shoulder, surely leaving another bruise in its wake. He even took advantage of the situation to bring his knee up into my abdomen, knocking the breath out of me.

 

Gasping in pain, my heart felt as though it was going to explode with all the pain my poor body had already suffered through. Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes as I bent at the waist.

 

Just kill me know, I thought.

 

It didn’t take long for whatever drug it was to enter my system. Although I was pissed, my body was calm, sluggishly so. My vision weakened; hallows appeared around objects and nearly making me dizzy.

 

In such a weak state, the man roughly took hold of my upper arm and dragged me out of the room. He walked too fast causing me to trip over my feet and the end of the dress. He didn’t seem to care.

 

He came to an old-style elevator and roughly kept dragging me in. The bars came down, then a see through plastic thing next. It made a lot of noise as I leaned against the side, still reeling from everything that had happened so far.

 

At least my assumption of being underground was correct. But how far under were we?

 

“Such a shame,” he spoke as the elevator began to move. He couldn’t stop himself from moving some of my hair behind my ear, causing me to flinch from his touch. “You should be mine to keep, but of course you have to be used to repay a debt.”

 

He backed away instantly, only leaving his hand on my arm in a tight grip as the elevator came to a bumpy stop. Waiting on the other side was a man I could only vaguely remember.

 

He looked . . .  unlike what I could remember with a drugged-up mind. Same dark hair, dark lustful eyes and a shaved round face. Last time, which seemed like it was so long ago, he had a more casual feel about him. It had seemed like he hadn’t wanted to do what he did. Now, he stared at me with a blank expression.

 

“’Bout time,” he seethed while looking me up and down. “Marks? You’ll pay for that.”

 

“She fought. What else was I to do?” the man – Shemoli – spoke still having a hold on me.

 

“Come,” Gem said, taking a hold of the rope that dangled between my hands. He was careful to not touch my skin, which I found odd. Before, although he had been gentle then too, he hadn’t shied away from it.

 

Shemoli let me go, leaving his handprint on my arm in an angry red bruise. I let my eyes slide close as the brighter lights began to swarm. I numbly walked where I was led like a lamb being taken to water.

 

I was then pulled roughly to a stop before a thick wooden door. I blinked, confused.

 

“Now listen. You will obey any command given to you when we step into that room. Do not speak a single word; act as though you are not even there. When the Boss accepts you as my payment, you are to go to him and kneel in front of him. You are not to look anywhere but his shoes,” he spoke with unsaid threats. “Understood?”

 

I nodded in reply, not knowing how else to respond. I was too drugged to even attempt to fight him, or anyone for that matter.

 

“Good girl,” he said with a smirk that made me gulp as my stomach twisted.

 

What had he done? Why was he using me to repay his debt? Was I really worth something like that?

 

After he knocked twice, the huge door was swung opened, and Gem pulled me behind him. I kept my eyes down on the dark carpet. It was much darker in the room than it had been in the hallway. The smell of cigar smoke was strong, and I coughed, choking from the thickness of it.

 

I was nearly right on top of Gem, up against his back as the door was shut. I was also out of sight from the only man that was still sitting in an oversized chair. His black shoe tapped impatiently against the floor.

 

“You bring repayment, Gem?” the man grunted. His voice, although filled with authority, was calm and smooth.

 

“You doubt me?” Gen asked, shocked. “I told you I would have something better than money since my money's no good to you here.”

 

“And that would be a girl from the underground section?” the man laughed. His laugh was deep, and make my heart stutter in something other than fear. “I don’t want something used from there. I find no interest in of them. Which you knew very well of.”

 

“She’s not of those girls,” Gem was quick to say. “You said you wanted something different, and I found just that. This here is one of a kind that you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.”

 

“Let me see,” he sighed, sounding bored.

 

Gem pulled me up beside him, which I found odd. I already knew we were not equals, and never could be.

 

“I don’t like them marked,” the boss smoke as his eyes traveled up and down my form. Did everyone have to look at me like I was something to eat?

 

“She fought the man that was to bring her up,” Gem replied like it was an everyday occurrence with a one arm shrug.

 

“And how would she have been able to do that? Being restrained?” the man spoke, a threat left unspoken. This man certainly didn’t believe Gem, and rightfully so.

 

“I don’t know,” Gem shrugged out. He didn’t have anything to say.

 

“It won’t forgive your entire debt,” the man spoke after a few moments of thought. I couldn’t help but sway where I stood.

 

He must have made some sort of motion, as I was pushed towards his direction from behind. Once I saw his perfect black shoes in my line of sight, I collapsed to my knees, not caring as tears of fear fell.

 

He took a pocket knife from the table beside him, and I flinched as he quickly cut the rope, letting it fall to the floor in a heap.

 

“Closer, between my feet,” he mumbled out to me as he lay the knife back on the table, letting it clink against the glass top.

 

I did as he said. Whatever drugs I was given made his commands easier to follow, and I hated it. I already hated this man with every beat of my heart.

 

Once I was between his feet where he wanted me, one hand came to my hair, petting the top of my head in a soothing manner. He acted as though he was pleased with my actions, which didn’t make any sense. His other hand pulled out a gun.

 

I jerked as the sound echoed around the room and in my ears.

 

 

 

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