The Desired Victim

Chapter 2: Wash Away This Innocence

I don't even know how much time has passed. Either the drugs kicked in again, or I fell asleep, but the next thing I knew, my cell door opened again. Then I vaguely remembered the other man saying something about someone named Emory. Was this him?

"Get up." he said bluntly. His voice wasn't nearly as terrifying; it was actually more gentle. This definitely wasn't the same man as before.

It took me a moment to steady myself. I heard him sigh, annoyed, and he firmly grabbed my arm to unlock my shackles. I was relieved to have them off. There were already countless scabs and cuts on what used to be my soft skin. I whimpered.

"If you don't fight me, I won't put them back on, deal?" I tried looking into the face of who was talking to me, but he was wearing a black mask. I could only nod.

"Good. Now come on." He kept my arms behind my back, and pushed me out of the cell. The cell must have been very dark, because the hallway we were now in was extremely bright to my sensitive eyes. I could hardly walk, I was so weak, but the man kept pushing me forward.

"Don't be so slow." I heard him growl in my ear.

I mumbled an apology, but I kept tripping over myself. I was barefoot, and the cold, sharp, slimy ground wasn't helping my balance. Suddenly, the man slammed me into the wall, and held me by my shoulders.

"I swear, if you don't move faster, I will cut off your legs and make you crawl, do you understand me?"

I tried my best to see past the mask he was wearing. But I could not. I could only hear the annoyance and hatred in his voice. I felt tears forming in my eyes, and was scared he would hit me.

"I said, do you understand me?" He repeated after a few seconds of silence.

"Y-Y-yes . . ." I murmured. "P-p-please, d-d-don't hurt me anymore . . ."

For a moment, he said nothing and continued to press my whole body painfully up against the wall. Then he grabbed hold of my arms again, and shoved me towards the door that was at the end of the hall.  

When we got through it, there were about five more hallways that were identical to the ones we left. And I soon discovered I wasn't the only girl missing her home and family. There were more cells on both sides of the hallway, and I could see girls hunched in corners. They were screaming, crying, retching, begging to be dead. For a moment, I felt sorry for them. Then I realized that I was exactly like them. Tears threatened to fall, but I kept myself going without upsetting Emory, or whatever his name is, too much.

We finally reached our final destination.

"Listen to me, and listen carefully because I'm not going to repeat myself." The man gripping my shoulders like iron said to me.

"A-a-alright . . . " I squeaked.

"Inside this door there is a woman who is going to clean you up, understand? She's going to give you new clothes, and you have to wear them without any protest. When you're ready, the woman will escort you to me, and I'll be taking you to the auction room."