I’m curious, another feeling I haven’t really felt in years. Not this strong. Curious about why he’s here, what he’s looking for. No one comes here without a goal in mind.
I turn to scour the crowd, tucking the precious envelope deep into my clothing. At least it’ll be safe there while I figure out my next move.
I can’t find him, all the people, the flashing lights, manic movement, animalistic and instinctive. I could get him out, the female fighters usually pick a man to take back with them when they win. No one ever stops them, it’s their privilege, and the chosen men never complain.
Everyone, that is except me.
Maybe I could save him, get him out of here. Then what, and for that matter, why? Why risk everything for one boy I barely know?
I’m about to give up and leave when I finally spot him near the cage entrance. They’re trying to make him fight, the women seducing him, the men threatening. My heart stops, if he fights, he’ll die, no doubt about it. I won’t have that on my conscience, what’s left of my conscience at least, I can’t.
I refuse to sit back and watch another innocent die, not again, not when I can stop it.
I gather myself then stride purposefully through the crowd, tossing people out of my way. I get to Julian and stick my hand on his arm.
Everyone freezes, they see me and immediately back down. The women first, they’ve been on the other side of the ring to me before. They know the pain.
The men, on the other hand, glare at me, angry at me for interfering with their fun. I glare back and they all back down except one. He must be new because I don’t recognise him; he’s taller than me, around six foot and as broad as an ox.
He glares at me and Julian, “Who the hell do you think you are?” Apparently hes as stupid as an ox too. I don’t grace him with my voice, he’s nothing, I smile slightly and ox man gets offended,
“You smiling at me little girl?” He towers over me and I feel my blood rise. Two men try to pull him away, but he shrugs them off, “Dude, didn’t you see her fight? Show some xxxxxxxxx respect!” Ox dude laughs, “So she beat some chick, big deal!” He turns back to me and guffaws, blowing putrid air into my face.
Enoughs enough, I push Julian behind me and glare at the women around him. They grab him and nod, pulling him out of the way.
He still hasn’t said a word and is staring at me, a confused look on his face. Everyone else moves back, forming a circle around me and stupid ox guy. He looks around and chortles, “You want a fight, little girl? Bring . . ”
I interrupt him with a powerful round house kick, throwing him into the crowd behind him. He gets back up, wobbling slightly, and I stand still. I’ll let him go if he wants to. I gesture to the door, but he only growls and rushes me, bear-like.
Pathetic.
I side step him at the last moment and trip him up so he goes sliding on the floor. I gave him a chance, but now he’s got it coming. Someone needs to teach him a lesson in manners.
I wait for him to get up again, tapping my foot on the floor in mock impatience. In the silence, it echos loudly. He growls again, and gets up even more shakily.
This time I attack first. A swift jab to the midsection to wind him, a chop to the neck to stun him, and a kick behind the knees to ground him. He goes down like a ton of bricks, and stays down.
I step over him and head towards Julian. As I get closer, I see the fear in his eyes, and the disgust; I’m used to it. But somehow, for some reason, from him-it hurts. Pain that has nothing to do with my flesh wounds ripples through my chest. I look away from his eyes, now filled with loathing and distain.
I nod at the girls holding him, and they release him to me. Damn it all! What do I do with him now? I can’t just let him go--he could get into some serious trouble. Everyone’s expecting me to take him through to the back rooms. Oh, that could work.
I grab him by his arm, and glare at him, daring him to resist. He glances back at ox man then scowls at me, but allows me to pull him through the crowd. Smart boy.
Everyone makes way for me and my reluctant cargo. A path clears to the back rooms. Once there I continue through the halls, deeper and deeper.
This deep into the worst areas, hell becomes a maze; but I have the string that’ll lead me to the secret back entrance and get us out of here. I glance back at Julian and he’s still glaring at me. I nearly roll my eyes, give it a rest will ya? I already know what you think of me.
Suddenly he stalls, pulling me to a dead stop. I turn around ready to glare him into submission, but his eyes are elsewhere. They’re fastened to a rusty sign, pointing down the hall opposite to the one we need to take. He tries to break his arm from my grip.
“Let me go!” he snaps, “I need to go this way.” I look at the sign, ignoring him squirming in my grasp. As I read it my stomach sinks.
Hellnight, the district of hell where all the prostitutes are. I know what he’s here for now and bile rises in my throat.
The pimps don’t care where the girls come from so long as they have enough, and when they don’t, they steal them from the city, straight off the streets. I look back at Julian, and underneath the anger I can see the desperation. The hurt.
Someone he knows was taken, someone he cares about, and somehow, he managed to track her here.
Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! If I get him out now, he’ll only try to find his way back in. I’ll have to help him get her out as well, this is not going to be easy.
I yank him so he faces me, “Let me go!” he pleads, his whole-body screaming desperation, “Please!” I sigh, “No,” My voice is slightly croaky and husky from disuse.
His face falls and hatred replaces the desperation, “You’ll only get yourself killed or worse. If I help you find whoever you are looking for and get them out of here, you have to promise to never, ever come here again. Understand?”
Hope flickers on his face as he stares at me mutely, “Understand!?” I repeat louder, he nods and starts to head down the corridor, I haul him back.
“Follow me, don’t speak to anyone or do anything until we find her, understood?” he nods and follows me closely as we move through the halls.
He taps me on the shoulder and points to another sign, “She’s supposed to be in The Lounge of Hell,” I turn and look at the entrance surrounded by glittery neon sights and flashing lights, all black and red and dangerous looking. I feel a shiver travel down my spine as stare at it. It’s guarded by big bouncers and is supposedly the most notorious and biggest entertainment lounge in all hell.
Damn.
Only one way in, no sneaking in. But the getting in isn’t the problem, it’s the getting back out again, and with the girl. I’m gonna have to fight my way out, and clear a path for Julian and his compatriot to get out unscathed as well.
Julian stares at me, impatience oozing out of every pore. I square my shoulders and march in.
The guards take one look at my mask and wave us through, I am quite the known figure in hell it seems. “Do they know you?” Julian whispers as he follows me into the lounge, contempt dripping of every word. I shush him quickly, glaring at him to shut up. Does he want us to get caught?
We move through the lounge warily; it will do us no good if they try to stop us.
I hate places like this, filthy, rotten little holes. Where the rich and the powerful take advantage of women in bad places, in desperate need. Use them, exploit them, then throw them away. Throw them out once they're done with them, second hand, worn, broken.
Julian grabs my arm, pulling us to a stop. He gestures over to the right side where a door leads to the private rooms at the back, “She’s in there.”
I glance at him, wondering where he got his information from. He misreads my look. “She’s in there, I swear.” I nod and move toward the door, Julian beside me.
We’re about a metre away when one of the security team stops us, “You’re not allowed back there.” Julian takes a step forward and grabs my arm, pulling me into him. Close.
Very, very, close.
Damn.
“Michael gave me permission to use one of the back rooms,” He states authority in his voice, “I just bought her, she’s new, supposed to be quite fiery,”
I glare at him and try to rip my arm from his grip, fiery? I’ll show him fiery!
He looks down and smirks. He’s stronger than I thought, damn him, and as much as I hate it, I need to play into the lies he’s concocted.
The security guy looks me over, “Isn’t she wearing too much?” he asks, Julian just rolls his eyes and laughs, “I don’t like my property gawked at.” The words come off almost sinister. This boy can act!
The man shrugs, “If Michael said it’s fine, it’s fine with me.” He opens the door and ushers us through, “Have fun!” he calls after us.
I want to go back and beat him to a pulp. Good thing we’re going to have to fight our way out, I really need to work off all this emotion.
Julian drops my arm as soon as we are out of sight, and I inch away, making sure there’s a good bit of space between us.
“She should be this way.” He leads me through the hallway. It’s dark, dreary, no sign of hope, no glimmer of freedom for anyone here. There are doors on each side of the hallway painted various shades of red, in the middle of the door is a rusty golden plaque with a number on it.
He walks keeping his eyes on the door numbers, “22, 23, 24, 26, ah here, 25. She should be behind door 25,” He tries the handle, but it’s locked.
He takes a step back and is about to batter the door down before I stop him. I slide open my belt buckle, and pull out my trusty set of lock picks. They’ve served me well in the past, and will do so again.
As I work on the lock, I wonder who’s behind the door, a friend, relative, girlfriend? Whoever they are, I can’t help but be slightly jealous. I haven’t had someone look out for me in years, not since my family died.
Not that I need the help, or even want it.
The door unlocks with a faint click, Julian pushes me out of the way and bursts through the door. I slide in after him and glance round the room. It's bare with nothing more than a bed and a chair, apparently nothing else is needed, which shows excatly what this room is used for.
Luckily, the only person inside is a girl, small, lithe, as delicate as a flower and chained tight. My blood boils. This time I push Julian out of my way and start unlocking her chains.
I know what it feels like to be chained up, powerless, no chance of escape, at your captor’s mercy. I am going to make my captors pay soon once I get my revenge.
As I work Julian comforts the girl. In Russian I think; he’s not very fluent and I wonder again at their connection.
How does he know her and how did he get such detailed information on where to find her? It unsettles me.
I work faster and, finally, I unlock the last chain. Julian helps her to her feet, his voice keeping her calm in Russia. She’s steady enough, and I gesture for them to move. Something feels wrong, all my instincts are telling me to run.
We need to move!
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