Imperial

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My body bumped and bounced as the tires hit potholes and uneven pavement. The engine roared, hitting high notes as the gas was pressed hard, causing me to shift forward and slam into the hard metal walls.

Trying to slip my hands under my legs to pull them in front, my shoulder cramped up and felt like it was going to pop out of the socket.

Cringing in pain, I flopped onto my back with a hard grunt. Damn it!

I couldn't keep pushing it, I had to stop before I hurt myself anymore. It wouldn't do me any good to lose the use of my arms.

They're already useless.

The high-pitched squeal of brakes hit my ears as the car slowed to a stop. None of the men talked to each other, no one said a word. There was an eerie silence that encased my body, making every unknown press down on me like the weight of a collapsed building.

Turning my face up to the trunk lid, my eyes were open wide under the blackness of the blindfold, just waiting. I laid there, thinking about my fate, wondering if I'd live to see another day.

I heard the doors open and felt the car vibrate as they shut. The sound of feet crunching on gravel grew louder as the steps closed in on the back of the car.

All my muscles began to shake violently, buzzing with electric snaps that flowed from head to toe. I felt cold and hot, small and weak, I felt vulnerable.

As much as I didn't want to be in that trunk, there was a certain level of safety being alone inside. I was still alive, I was still breathing, thinking, feeling. I was away from them.

But once they opened the trunk, once their faces loomed over my trapped body, all that safety would disappear.

I would be at the mercy of the men who could kill without regret, I wouldn't have any way to protect myself or stop them from doing whatever the hell they had planned.

The trunk lid popped open, filling my chest with fresh air that was briny and cold. Inhaling a huge breath, my lungs burned to be cleansed, to be fed what they needed. I could still smell the hot pepper, I could still feel the fire in my nose and the heat in my chest.

Listening closely, I could hear waves crashing around us as a chill from the breeze rolled over my body and deposited salty air onto my skin.

The ocean, that's miles away from home.

A hand came in hard, startling me as it gripped my arm. Machi spoke low and stern. “Let's go.” Hoisting me up, he pulled me out and onto my feet. “In case you're thinking of it, if you want to scream, be my guest. No one's going to hear you.”

Crunching the sand under my feet, my shoulders snapped up, firming my back as his hand curled around my arm. His fingers were warm, sizzling my skin like boiling water.

Tipping my head up towards the sky, I wished on falling stars I couldn't see. I wanted to shrink and disappear, I wanted to turn into air and be swept from his grasp.

But it didn't work, my wish fell into the ocean, crashing down like a boulder being dropped from the heavens.

“Walk,” he barked, shoving me forward.

Licking my dry lips, I forced myself to ask the only question that really held any weight in my mind. “What are you going to do with me?”

Laughing, Machi squeezed my forearm harder. “Well little girl, I guess that depends.”

Taking in a deep breath, I sniffled, trying to bury every emotion that wanted to take over. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to turn into stone so he couldn't hurt me.

I didn't want to cry, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how scared I truly was. Because men like him fed off your weaknesses, they inhaled your fear and swallowed your soul, all to experience the power they craved.

But it didn't matter, he could probably smell it, he could probably feel it just from the shaking in my muscles and the quiver in my voice.

“Depends on what?” I asked, forcing as much calmness into my vocal cords that I could.

“On how good you are.” I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smiling. I could feel it in his tone, in the way he spoke. “You're about to get a taste of a new world, a new life. If you listen, if you do as your told, well. . .” Pausing, his thumb stroked my arm. “You could be one of the lucky ones.”

The lucky ones?

What the fuck does he mean?

“I just want to go home. Please let me go, I won't say anything, I promise.”

“Your promise is no good now, it means shit.” Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, I felt the heat off his breath as he lowered his face to my ear. “It's a little too late for promises.”

No good?

He isn't even listening to me!

My chest began to rise and fall rapidly as he continued to push me forward, leading me to an uncertain place for an unknown reason. His explanation had been nothing less than cryptic, giving me no clues to the true nature of his plan.

No! I won't let him do this!

I can't just let him take me without fighting for myself.

I felt empowered, filling with determination and a will to live. I wasn't going to just stand there and allow him to push me through the darkness to my death, not without a fight.

So I did the only thing I could; I ran.

Rocking my shoulder hard, I yanked my arm free. His fingers tried to dig in, they tried to grip tighter and hold me in place. I felt them swipe my skin, brushing over with the weight of a feather, but I slipped away.

Pushing myself forward, I darted to the left and ran. I ran as fast as I could, blindfolded and struggling to rip my hands free of the bindings.

The ground crunched like broken glass under my feet, each step was one unknown after another. Every time my foot hit the dirt, I was playing with fire. I wasn't sure what was in front of me, and honestly, I didn't care.

If I ran off a cliff into the water below, then I would accept the liquid into my lungs. If I ran into a busy highway and was hit full force by an oncoming truck, then I would accept the feel of metal on my bones as it crushed the life out me.

Because death by my own hand was easier to deal with than the idea of being raped or murdered by a group of savage beasts.

Just run!

Run and don't stop running!

Lunging forward with my feet, a set of hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground in one swoop.

A voice I recognized from the small apartment whispered in my ear. “Gotcha.” It was the tall man with the dead eyes. “Which room do you want her in?” he asked, speaking in a tone that was so calm and collected, I knew it hadn't been his first time capturing a runaway.

“Open up the white room, Fior, she belongs there.”

What the hell is the white room?

I don't belong here! I belong home!

Screaming, I kicked my legs and jostled my body. “No! Let me go! Fuck you! Fuck you and your white room!”

“Feisty, I like that,” Fior said, clinging to me tighter. Walking forward, his feet thumped into the sand, kicking it back up and over my back.

“Careful with that one, Fior, I need her.”

Letting my body fall limp, I lifted my head in the direction of Machi's voice. “Why do you need me? I'm no good to you.”

He didn't answer. A raspy chuckle pierced my ears as Machi growled like a rabid animal. His fingers raked through my hair, yanking my head off Fior's shoulder. “Your time for questions is done.”