Imperial

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Machi looked over his shoulder at me as he held the doorknob in his hand. “Remember, no talking.” His brows arched up as his lips thinned. “Understand?”

Nodding yes, I let my eyes settle on his before allowing them to drift to the floor. It felt like time had stopped, like everything around me went into slow motion as his hand twisted against the warn handle.

I could feel the air filling my lungs as I took in long breaths, I could hear the hinges creak before the door even crossed the threshold. Every movement was that much more intense than the last.

Things that weren't even visible seemed to scream against my eardrums; from the tension in Machi's muscles to the heat in his veins, to the dense air blanketing my skin and holding me down.

Silent walls screamed at me, they pressed angrily on my chest, begging to be burned, to be freed from all the years of evolution that morphed it from plain wood into walls, from watching happy faces travel in and out, to what it was now. . . A place meant for destruction, bleeding with sins it could never speak out loud.

I stood stoic, waiting for Machi to open the door. My heart began to race as I watched light break between the crack as he removed the only barrier between me and the truth.

But inside I wanted to disappear, I wanted to click my ruby heels three times and wake up at home. I wanted to pinch myself and be rid of this horrible nightmare.

I wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse to be so in tune with my surroundings, and right then, all I wanted was to hug the blackness, allowing it to keep me safe and whole.

Slowly, Machi pulled the handle, stepping through the portal that had opened. The muscle in his bicep flexed as he pulled me behind him, the hard curves and dips in his back tensed up and fell smooth as he shifted his shoulders with each heel forward.

I kept closing my eyes and opening them back up again as a war inside my head exploded. Fear and need were fighting, both wanting to protect me against what was coming. I was afraid to see outside the walls that had held me, I was afraid to know exactly what was going to happen me.

You need to find a way out! Take it in, see whatever you can.

Cheap perfume filled the hall, mixed with sweat and stagnant cologne. A cough tickled the back of my throat as the sheer stench that surrounded me crawled into my lungs. But I didn't let it out, I held it in, refusing to let one sound escape my lips.

For the moment, I would keep my word. I would stay quiet and just observe, marking any weak spots that might show themselves. All the windows that we might pass, all the doors that could possibly lead to an escape, I wanted to make a mental map of it all.

I wasn't staying in this dreaded shit-hole, I wasn't going to let him hold the key to my freedom. I was in charge of me—no one else. And when the time was right, I was gone.

Keeping my eyes down, I noticed it was the same worn oak creating the floor that was in my room. Remnants of a rug skittered down the baseboards, its frayed and torn threads still scratched like talons out from under the wall. Large cracks opened up between the planks, splintering wide like trenches, threatening to suck me inside.

If only I could turn into paper and slip away. . .

My eyes followed the cracks, imagining what it would feel like to glide through them, to transform into a one dimensional being just to escape.

Machi tugged me along, his pace slightly ahead of mine. Keeping his back straight and firm, he walked with confidence, holding a stride that read importance. He might not be the man in charge, but he certainly didn't hold himself like he was below anyone else.

I knew I wasn't supposed to look up, but the temptation to learn all I could drove me to explore with my eyes.

Taking quick glances, I noticed the walls were dirty and bare, riddled with stains and smears of hands and fingers, streaking down like they wanted out just as much as I did.

There were multiple different doors on either side, all with small labels sitting by the handles. Squinting to read the small letters, all the rooms were given a name of color; Blue, Yellow, Green. . . My room was White. Does that mean something?

Reaching a set of elevator doors, Machi pressed the button, joggling his shoulders straight as he waited for them to open.

I tried so hard to ignore the sounds around me and not question what they were, but there was no denying that they weren't playful. They weren't families enjoying a trip to the coast or college kids partying after finishing exams.

Moans and muffled screams came in from every direction, melting with laughter in deep tones, yelps and quiet sobs.

What the hell is this place?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened wide. Machi started to step in, but I stood frozen, just listening. The tones were high and low, falling out with force. They came from someplace that was too dark to comprehend, floating through the air on sadness and despair.

It wasn't right, there were no amount of words to help me process what was happening.

Is that going to happen to me? Is that what I'm supposed to expect?

My muscles began to shake, quivering with every scream and cry. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest, slamming into my ribs as whips cracked and slaps rained down behind closed doors labeled with words that weren't meant for such pain.

Rainbows were bright, they were filled with luck and happy wishes, awestruck children and the sign of gold.

If the colors meant something, if they were secret descriptions of what went on behind them. . . I wasn't sure if I'd ever see the same glow from above as anything other than evil now.

Machi squeezed my hand and I felt him looking down on me. I wanted to look up and acknowledge him, allowing him to see the concern and worry on my face. I wanted him to know that I wasn't okay with any of this.

But I didn't. I kept my head down and my ears open, shivering from head to toe.

“I know it's hard, but try not to listen.” His thumb drew circles over the small nub on my wrist, following the long, thick scab made from the bindings. “There are different rules for all the girls here. The ones you get, depend on you. Not all of them are being hurt, some are actually enjoying it.”

“Not all—”

Holding up his hand, he silenced me.“No. No talking.”

Biting my tongue, I listened. I did what he asked me to do. But I didn't do it for him, I did it for me; escaping was a need, and I needed to know what I was running from.

Tugging me inside, we rode the elevator in silence. I didn't feel his eyes on me again as I stood a few inches behind him.

Letting go of my hand, Machi traded it for his phone. Balancing on my toes, I tried to get a quick glimpses of what he was doing, but he kept it hidden. The only thing I could make out was the soft glow of light from the screen, highlighting his cheek bone.

The hard curve of his jaw was exposed, painted with a thin layer of stubble. A small tattoo rested on the back of his neck, the ink bold and curving. It looked like a symbol, a mark that had meaning, but one I hadn't ever seen before. It reminded me of old Chinese script, with its thick lines and sharp turns.

What does it mean?

I was drawn to the small design, mesmerized by the detail and hidden meaning. My fingers buzzed to touch it, to follow the lines and feel the inked scar. I was so tempted to ask him about it. The question sat on the tip of my tongue, burning the muscle as it rested there, unable to be heard.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder. I was caught. “You're already pushing the limit and we just started.”

Opening my mouth to speak, he held up a single finger. “Uh. . .” Wagging it in my direction, he continued. “I know it's hard for you to not want to look, to not ask questions, I get it. But right now—” Machi's words cut off as the elevator slowed down. Throwing his hand up, he hit the large red button, keeping us locked inside. Turning to face me, he ran his hands through his hair. “Right now I need you to just listen, that's it. It's not hard to do, it's not hard to follow.”

Not hard to follow!?

You brought me here! You did this to me!

And you want me to just allow it to happen and not ask why!?

That's not fair!

Biting my lip, I kept my voice to myself. Wrapping my hands around each other in front of my waist, I let my eyes float up to his then back to the tattered red carpet of the elevator.

“Look at me.”

I kept my head down, unsure if it was a test or not. Did he really want me to look up or did he want me to follow the rules he gave me?

“Look at me,” he said again with conviction in his voice.

You can't have it both ways!

Cupping my chin, he tilted my head up. “You want to scream at me right now, I can see it in your eyes.” Searching my face, he stroked my jaw. “It's killing you that I won't let you, I can see the razors you're throwing at me, Pixie.” Arching his lip, he smiled in satisfaction. “Good, hold that, it'll help you.”

Letting go of my face, he grabbed my hand, hitting the button to open the doors. Taking a long, confident step out, Machi pulled me behind him.

The doors had opened to a foyer, an old run-down entryway to a once abandoned hotel that was now overrun with monsters. Tilting my head to the floor, I used my peripheral vision to see what was around us.

There was no denying it, this place had once been meant for the wealthy with its gleam of decadence and refined details.

Two giant pillars sat in the center of the room, both marked with deep gouges and divots in the hard stone. An empty desk made of mahogany sat in the back, covered in a thick layer of dust that filled the intricately etched woodwork.

There. . .

My breath hitched as I spotted the double doors of the entrance. The windows were covered in black plastic that was flaking and peeling around the corners. Each door had a long gold handle with a detail of swirl sitting on the top and bottom.

That could be my way out.

Machi stopped short, whispering to me over his shoulder. “I know what you're thinking, I suggest you look again.”

He was reading my mind and penetrating my thoughts. I wasn't sure how he was doing it, maybe it was luck, maybe it was experience; either way, he knew what was running through my head.

Eyeing the door, I felt my chest tighten as I spotted the heavy chains wrapping the handles. It wasn't an escape, it was sealed shut, trapping me inside.

Starting forward, Machi jerked my arm to follow. “It's in your best interest to just do as I say. You're not the first girl to ever walk through here, trust me, precautions have been made to keep you in, not let you out.”

I didn't want to move, I didn't want to go further inside. I wanted to charge the doors and kick them open, I wanted to break the glass and jump outside.

Yanking my hand free, I gritted my teeth and stared him down. If he wanted to be a mind reader, then let him.

Fuck you!

I'm not your prisoner! I'm not yours to own or have or control!

Turning around, he tilted his head to his shoulder as his lids lowered and lips turned up. “You're wrong.” Stepping forward, he reached out and gripped my wrist. “In here, you are mine. Things have to be done a certain way, that's just how it is.”

It doesn't have to be that way. You can let me go right now, no one would know.

Taking a step back, I kept glancing at the doors. They were right there, only a few feet away. I kept picturing myself jumping through them, breaking them down and running for my life.

His fingers tightened around my wrist, eyes softening as he brought his hand to my face and brushed it over my cheek. “If you try, you'll only hurt yourself, you won't break it.” Taking another step in, he lowered his mouth to my ear. “And letting you go would be dangerous.” His lips brushed my skin, forcing a chill over my body. “I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise I'll keep you safe, but I can only do that if you listen.”

How does he do that?

How does he know what I'm thinking?

Flicking my eyes between his, I had a feeling of calmness settle over me. Machi looked like he was being honest, and right then, I believed him.

But can I trust you?

How can I put my faith in you to keep me safe?

“You don't have a choice.” He had done it again, answering my soundless words. Twining his fingers into mine, he started walking towards the back of the room. “Come, it's time.”

I could hear voices echoing in the distance as we pressed in further, feeling the dream of my escape fizzle into dust and blow away as I left the double doors behind me.

Machi tugged me in as we approached a set of curtains, putting me almost directly beside him. Leaning over, he whispered. “There's no more peeking, that's done. Not. In. Here.”

Swallowing hard, I demanded my eyes to stay static, pulling any and all natural movement from them. I was tempted to just close them all together and allow the blackness to be my savior. Only I didn't.

It was like no matter how much I didn't want to see or hear or know what was around me, I couldn't stop it. I had to know so I could find a weakness in the armor, I had to see so I could fight, so I could run. From the sounds I heard upstairs, everything depended on it.

Even with his word of safety, there was no promise I would ever hold above my own. Only I could promise myself the will to keep going, only I could give myself the word of truth.

Pushing the curtain back, I could smell something familiar, it was sweet and salty, thick and heavy. What is that? I asked myself, smelling the air again.

Is that. . . Oh my God, it is.

It was the scent of sex.

As the realization set in of what was surrounding me, the sounds floated into my ears, causing my stomach to swirl. There were heavy moans and hard breathing, I could feel the room vibrating and the weight of body heat fall over my skin, glazing the surface like dirty icing.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

Machi stopped short, causing me to bump into his lower back. His body twitched as he snapped his head in my direction, but I forced my eyes to stay on the floor and not look up.

The weight of his glare pressed down, stiffening my muscles. I didn't move.

“Machi!” A scratchy voice yelled.

“Ethan, how are you?” His body shook as the two men exchanged a handshake.

“Very good, the turn out is excellent tonight, don't you think?”

“It is.” Machi cleared his throat, his fingers fumbling around mine in a tender squeeze. There was reassurance in his grasp, a small moment of compassion that went without a visual glance or word. “How many are going tonight?”

Ethan twirled a glass in his hand, making the ice bounce off each other. “Well, without your two, we have six.” I heard the man sip his drink, sucking the liquid off his lips with a loud slurp. “Sylvan is well aware, and I'm sure you can imagine, he wasn't too happy.”

“I took care of it.” Machi's thumb rolled over the top of my palm, rubbing it back and forth. “We won't run into that issue again.”

“You're running thin, Machi, Sylvan doesn't give strikes, consider yourself lucky.”

“Let him tell me himself.” An angry growl spilled off his tongue as he spoke. “He likes to send his little henchmen to give me his thoughts, it's getting old. I've been here for how long now, two years? And I have yet to meet the man himself, instead he sends your ugly face to tell me what he thinks. I don't like it, Ethan, it won't fly much longer.”

“These things take time, Machi, he doesn't speak to every lowlife he takes in off the street.”

“Lowlife? Did you really just call me a lowlife?” Stepping in with a hard jerk, Machi yanked on my arm as he loomed over Ethan.

“Oh come on, Machi, don't take it personal. Trash is trash, you fall just outside that description, that's a good thing.”

Machi's hand squeezed mine harder, pressing bone to bone. Lifting my free hand, I tried to signal him that he was hurting me. Except he didn't notice, he kept squeezing and squeezing, using my hand as the release for his anger.

“Fuck you, Ethan.”

Laughing, Ethan swirled his glass again, holding out a finger towards Machi. “Be careful, I'd watch what you say to me. You're not untouchable, Machi, remember that. ”

I tried to keep quiet, I really did. But it felt like my bones were being crushed under the skin. Squeaking softly, I dug my nails into Machi's hand and tried to pry it free.

Both men stopped talking as their heads cocked in my direction. I didn't mean to look up anymore than I meant to make a sound. It just happened on reflex, unwittingly and by pure instinct.

“I—I'm sorry.” I whispered, dropping my head down and letting my hair fall in front of my face. Using my hair as a shield, I stared at my toes. Ethan's eyes had been just as evil as the men who worked for Machi, only blacker.

My skin bristled, my toes tingled and wriggled to take off running in the other direction. Running the tips of my nails over the pads of my fingers, I breathed in slowly, trying to calm the unsettled need to get away.

“And who's this? I've never seen her before?” Ethan looked me over, running his fingers through my hair. “Did you bring her as a gift for your fuck up?”

His long blonde hair didn't budge as he leaned in, slicked tight against his scalp, it stayed perfectly in place. A dark blue suit dressed his thin frame as his long fingers moved and crawled like the legs of a spider over my head.

I wanted to jump back and slap his hand off me. My body tensed up, my stomach bubbling in disgust. He had touched me like I was his, like he had the rights to me in some sick way.

Under hooded lids, my eyes glanced up and then back at the floor. Furrowing my brows into the bridge of my nose, my lip curled into a snarl, ready to scream at him the longer his hands were on me.

“She's not ready, Ethan, not yet.” Machi stepped between us, pushing me directly behind his back. His touch was possessive and firm, creating a solid wall between Ethan and myself.

To say I was grateful was an understatement. The fact that he stepped up and stopped that creep from touching me sent a rush through my system. It meant something, it brought new life to his words of protection and safety.

Maybe I was grasping at straws, trying to find some form of good in the man who had brought this down on me, but he didn't have to stop him. Machi could have let him touch me, he could have stood by and allowed that man to grope and explore my body.

But he didn't.

Ethan smiled, winking at me as he spoke. “You can send her to me, I'll get her ready if you can't handle her. I'd be more than happy to take her off your hands.”

“No,” Machi barked, wrapping his hand around his back to pull me in closer. “This one isn't yours to claim, I brought her here without orders from Sylvan. Besides, have I ever needed your help? She'll learn, just like all the others.”

Others?

“Mm,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Does she have a name?” Licking his lips, his eyes pierced mine. I hadn't realized that I had let them drift up again, darting my eyes back to the floor, I pressed myself into Machi's back.

“Pixie.”

“Pixie, huh? Does she have wings?” he asked with a sinister giggle. “I bet she wishes she did so she could fly out of here.” Leaning over, Ethan's eyes rode my body, sending a shiver up my spine. “She looks like typical street trash if you ask me. Where did you find this one, a whore house?”

I was supposed to stay quiet, I was supposed to keep my eyes down. I didn't, not after that.

“Fuck you asshole! You don't know me!” Lunging forward, I slapped his glass from his hand, knocking it to the ground. “You're fucking trash!” Sucking in heated breaths, I clutched my fists at my side. I wanted to strike him down, I wanted to turn my words into knives and cut him where he stood.

Ethan's eyes filled with black fire, burning me as I stood there. The room didn't quiet down, everyone around us either didn't notice my outburst at all or they had ignored us for a good reason.

Arching his lip, Ethan bared his teeth. “You better teach this little whore how things work around here before I do. That was her only one, her only error. If she does anything like that again, Machi, anything. . .” Fixing his jacket, he ran his hands down the front, smoothing it out. “I'll do what you can't. I'll fix her dirty fucking mouth and make her wish she had been a good girl. Teach her well, teach her right, or you'll both be wishing for another chance.”

Machi scooped me in, pulling me firmly inside his strong arms. “Touch her and I'll fucking kill you.” Holding me close to his chest, I could hear his heartbeat. Thud after thud, the pace intensified, crackling against his ribs.

Looking up at him, his sharp jaw had jetted out to the side, his nostrils flared wide and his eyes. . . His eyes were filled with rage, condemning the man who cast threats at me.

I let him hold me, I accepted the protection he was granting me. Curling into his chest, I pressed my palm against the rigid stone of his stomach. My fingers stroked gently over his abs as I tucked my head into his arms.

Harbored inside him, I felt safe, I felt untouchable in his grasp. And to my surprise, I liked it, I enjoyed being wrapped up in him.

“She's not yours, Ethan, and she's not his. I brought her here, she's mine.”

“Fix her,” Ethan growled, bringing up a hand to adjust his tie. “Or you won't have a say in who she belongs to at all.” Turning on his heels, he kicked the glass on the floor and stormed off into the darkness.

Machi kept me pulled in tight, watching him as he disappeared into the room and dissolved into the blackness.

Stepping back, he yanked me off his chest and wriggled his fingers into my hair. “You just made a mistake.” Lurching forward, he kept his fingers in place and dragged me behind him. “A big fucking mistake.”