(A Reverse Harem)
Leda Jenson is a lot of things. A great decision-maker is not one of them.
Stupidly drunk one night, Leda encounters a strange man at a casino who challenges her to a game of Russian roulette in exchange for fifty thousand dollars...
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DAY 52-1: DECK TOWER
In the meagre five minutes Leda wakes inside a cramped steel cage, stark naked and attempting to digest her current situation, she explodes with a shout to seal her frustration: "What the hell is going on?"
A crushing pain hammers incessantly inside her skull, in a pattern that leaves her more agitated than fatigued. Her mouth is dry, proving her dehydration. The worst hangover in history is upon her and yet on top of that she comes to inside some kind of cage—nude—and unnecessarily cold.
Leda grits her teeth, her mind racing from paranoia alongside a painful migraine. What exactly happened to her last night? A dream? Albeit fuzzily, she recalls a dark-skinned, rudely tall man. She also distinctly remembers placing a gun barrel to her temple and blasting her brain to bits...
She shivers.
The fact that she killed herself had to have been a part of the dream. She's alive now, right? Her brain is conjuring these thoughts the same time it feels as if they'll explode in her skull.
Not to mention how ill she feels; so sick, for that matter, she can upchuck at any given second. She had to have gotten as drunk as she did in order to sustain a hangover this bad. If so, her stupid intoxicated self definitely agreed to a gamble so absurd she was willing to shoot herself in the head in response to a stranger's request.
How is she alive now, then? Moreover, why is she naked in this otherwise glamorously grand room?
Eyebrows pinched tight, Leda taps her fingernail impatiently against her bare forearm, peering downwards at her ashy brown skin.
Maybe she did hallucinate blasting hers brains out. Maybe somebody—the man—took advantage of her and brought her into this cage where he...
Her look hardens.
No, she would've at least summoned some kind of recollection about that. And she would've definitely felt violated now too. Besides, someone would have to be really messed up to try to come onto her inside a cage of all places.
Then again, if she fell unconscious before she could play a game like Russian roulette—where the wager was to give him her dead body—then who's to say that man had the decency to refrain from getting it on in a cage?
The more she ponders it, the more the spiralling notions drive her sanity further and further from the bill.
She knew her drinking problems would one day get her into a terrible situation but this is next level. She has to get out of here.
Right as the notion comes to mind, she moves her stiff limbs. She falls onto her palms and knees, careful not to bump her head against the low-hung bars.
Once she tries to jiggle the cage open, the door to the room slams open.
The one who steps inside is not the lust-filled man she expects.
