Caylee was one to rarely ever dream anymore and she preferred it that way. The comfort and peaceful images that dreams often conjured tended to be cruel reminders of everything her life was not: carefree, simple, happy. Sadly, tonight she was plagued by a dream; one of red park benches, butterflies, and lullabies sung by a mother that she couldn’t remember the face of. Small Caylee soared through the clouds and gazed out at the earth below in wonder and glee. Then droplets of water fell from an exposed pipe in the ceiling onto the center of her forehead and washed it all away, which brought Caylee into the harsh reality of wakefulness. Her bleary eyes fluttered open to be greeted by the stained plaster ceiling that had long begun to peel, and she immediately knew the dream was no more. The nightmare had resumed instead.

She leaned forward in the old and beaten wooden chair, unsure how she’d been able to get any sleep in that unholy piece of furniture. The old vinyl cushion stung the back of her thighs as it pulled against her clammy skin when she moved. With a strained yawn, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her bare knees then closed her eyes. Her breathing was slow and heavy as exhaustion weighed on her like a pile of bricks stacked upon her shoulders.

Caylee felt the sweetest relief of cool air that emanated from the broken window next to her. Part of her contemplated leaping through it to the concrete below. At least then, things would come to an end, and she’d be able to feel something other than exhaustion or fear. It’d be relief enough to simply feel cold. How the apartment complex was able to have adequate heating amidst the rest of its disrepair, she couldn’t understand.

Unfortunately, even if she were to seriously attempt an escape, it was impossible due to the iron bars on the other side of the glass. Before – when exactly, she couldn’t recall – when she was less tired and more daring, she tried getting a hold of some rasp-cut files in hopes of clearing the bars but all that got her was a heavier punishment. She stopped trying then. Apparently her captor bastards had learned from a previous lesson; she envied the last person who managed to pull it off before they wisened up.

A headache made itself known to Caylee as it throbbed intensely against her skull. It was a cruel irony that mirrored her very own circumstance: trapped and clawing for a way out.

The sun had just started to set over the city and she knew what that entailed. As it happened every other evening, the man she’d come to call Joel would make his rounds and check on her quality status. When they had first brought her here, she didn’t know what Joel had meant by that. It didn’t take long for her to realize Joel was referring to her as a product.

Joel would often handcuff her to one of the heating units to perform his inspections. He’d check for any changes in her skin, bruising and tenderness, and he made sure her hair wasn’t falling out or had become matted beyond repair. She’d be weighed too; not too heavy or too light. Depending on the report, her food supply would change and normally not for the better. The worst times were when she’d have her period. She had to cry, beg and do extra favors to get them to buy her pads after the first few months she spent trapped in here. Even then, they were often of terrible quality and she could swear they had been washed and reused before being handed to her.

Fortunately, Joel had been there, and he made it easier on her. He was the one to bring her the pads after much bargaining, and he’d at least pretended to care. It was more than could be said for the rest of these bastards. She heard from the others how they wished they had Joel as their caretaker, and she never took him for granted.

For all intents and purposes, Joel never physically harmed her. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but showed enough force to sway her to not try anything; he didn’t need to. The screams from the neighboring apartments were more than enough to command her obedience. Caylee shivered at the thought of them. The screams were the main reason why reality was a nightmare.

Just as every other day’s routine had been, the sound of approaching footsteps came from the hallway like clockwork. Caylee’s heart dropped into her stomach as she climbed to her feet then placed herself in the center of the room as the door opened to reveal a burly man.

He looked harmless enough, like a giant teddy bear with a southern accent. The Hawaiian shirt beneath his beige hoodie was tacky but helped to alleviate the tension occasionally. That was perhaps the one thing about Joel she liked. He’d wear a shirt with something silly on it every day, perhaps to make him seem friendlier than his counterparts. Yesterday, he’d worn a Hello Kitty shirt; Joel had laughed about it when he caught her staring then remarked he felt like a pretty princess when she mentioned it.

From the way he opened the door, Caylee immediately could tell something was different. Joel’s eyes were glued to the floor as he crossed the threshold before he shut the door behind him. Even when fully inside, his gaze never strayed towards her. He stepped forward, with the clipboard gripped tightly in his hands as though it somehow was what kept him steady.

“Hey doll, you doing okay?” Joel asked, his voice withdrawn which was a far cry from his usual countenance. It bothered her.

“Y-yeah,” she replied with a nod as her eyes darted around to check him over with a tinge of worry.

“Good, good…” the man cleared his throat and took another step forward. Caylee began to move towards the heating unit as she had done in all of their previous encounters, but he stopped her in her tracks. “N-no, you don’t have to do that today.”

“I don’t?” she repeated, unsure if she heard him correctly. A chill ran down her spine as she watched him bob his head in response; something was definitely wrong… Joel always performed an inspection.

He continued to not meet her eyes as she shifted uncomfortably to gaze behind him. She could hear faint movement in the hallway, which didn’t bode well for her situation. Joel sighed, closed his eyes then bit his lower lip in frustration.

“I know it’s not been easy being here,” he said, with knuckles white from how hard he gripped the board. “I’ve seen too many girls around your age be brought through here, and every time it breaks my heart.”

Oh god, she thought. Why the hell are you doing this?

Joel was really trying to lift that weight off of his shoulders and clear his guilty conscience right now? What was going on? Caylee’s body threatened to tremble at the possibilities, but she kept her composure. She didn’t want him to know she was scared as hell– despite what Joel was doing in all of this, she did care about him to a degree. Did she hate that he was helping the people who’d taken her? Yes, it made her skin crawl and her heart ache to think about it, but Joel had treated her well all things considered. If anyone else had been around, she feared to think what state she might have come to be in.

“Y-you know, you remind me of my daughter.” Joel raised his head, with reddened almond shaped eyes that were on the verge of tears. “I’m sure you hate me for what I’ve done, but I don’t want to see anything bad happen to-”

“Joel,” she cut him off abruptly with a hand held up to stop him. The way Joel stopped was similar to a punch to the gut. He lurched over and gave a shallow breath as reply; his cerulean eyes were finally on her now, which only made Caylee feel more ostracized and out of place. “W-what’s going on?”

He swallowed harshly at the question and his lip quivered as he opened his mouth to reply but no sound came out. At first, only the faintest squeak did, as though he was struggling to figure out what to say. It was only after a few drawn out seconds that he sighed in defeat.

“T-today’s going to be the last day we see each other, hun.”

The statement struck her like a bullet, and for a moment Caylee could have sworn her heart had stopped beating altogether. For a split second, she felt an ounce of hope hit– the tiniest flicker that yearned to go home.

Does that mean I get to go home?

“I, uh… I think you already know the answer to that,” his voice cut through her thoughts as her eyes widened. Did she say that out loud?

Then just like that, she was dragged back into the dark pit of reality. Whatever embers of hope she had of being freed were stomped out once more. Her eyes softened, drained of emotion as the teenager suddenly dropped to the floor. Joel barely had time to catch her before she hit the wooden tiles. “Hey, come on… it’s not that bad.”

“Bad?” she repeated somewhere between a whimper and a growl. There was venom in her tone, enough that it made Joel visibly recoil. She wanted to scream at him and try to make him feel a fraction of the agony she was in, but she simply didn’t have the energy to do so. “You’re right, it’s not that bad, it's worse! I’m not an idiot, Joel; I know what it means when you say today’s the last time we’ll see each other.

She’d heard enough from the neighboring apartments to know that if you were to somehow leave the property, that was the end of it. Whomever was taken was never seen again, that much she could gather. Cleaners would come and make sure there wasn’t a single trace of evidence that anyone had stayed there. They’d erase any sign that a person existed as long as it meant they were in the clear.

Caylee had seen them drag countless girls out of the house and throw them into the back of a delivery truck like they were luggage. It was awful, and every night when she heard the footsteps outside her door she feared that she’d be next. Now, it seemed all too certain that her worst fear was coming true.

It was frequent more so late at night when she couldn’t sleep that she wondered where those girls were shipped off to. What had become of them? Had they been thrown from one encapture to another like a zoo animal, or as she more so feared, sent to slaughter? As morbid as it may have been, it was an unfortunate possibility that she now had to consider.

So, to say it was bad was an understatement. Caylee couldn’t help but pay close attention to the faux oak door, expecting to be whisked away into the unknown at any minute. Joel still had a grip on her, acting as a disappointing reminder that he was a part of this. The only source of happiness she had found in this hellhole, and yet he was still one of the bad guys. Thinking about it only added to the pain.

As if he could sense her trepidation, Joel gingerly let her arms go and backed away.

“Now, I know this isn’t ideal, but you have to know nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Don’t lie to me!” she hissed then stood up with an energy Joel had never seen from her before. The shock in his eyes told her that he wasn’t expecting any resistance, but the miniscule smile that he tried to hide seemed rather pleased about it. “If I leave, I’m as good as dead!”

“No, you’re not!” Joel barked back, clenching his fists. He bit his lip in an obvious attempt to maintain his composure, not that he was remotely close to accomplishing it.

“How do you know?!” she practically shouted, stepping forward to where she was mere inches from his face. The difference in their height was apparent with him standing four inches taller than her, but she surprisingly didn’t feel small at the moment. “Tell me, Joel!”

“First off, back the hell up.” he stated dryly, to which the girl reluctantly did. Joel ran his hands through his hair, slicking the thick greasy raven colored locks back with a frustrated sigh. Lowering his head to look at the clipboard, he clicked his tongue in defeat before looking back to her. “It’s because of your designation.” He flipped the clipboard over for her to see, pointing towards a column of letters that stood out to the rest of the sheet. “You’re category A– anyone in that is safe to a degree.”

Caylee took the board from Joel, looking over the list. Just as he said, Caylee’s name was marked with a red A. Along some of the other names on the list were the letters D, V, and S. Only five other girls out of the two dozen or so on the list were in Caylee’s category.

“What does it mean if I’m in A?”

Joel didn’t reply at first. She could see the way he hesitated to even breathe, his fingers twitching in unison as he opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out.

“Joel, what does it mean?”

“It… it stands for Auction.”

“Auction?” Caylee repeated, unsure if she had heard correctly. Joel nodded, which somehow only made her anxiety skyrocket. “Auction, like I’m going to be sold?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

The silence that befell them was palpable as Caylee tilted her head, trying to understand how anyone could think a human being could be valued as an object. In the end, she shook her head and found herself more concerned about what kind of an auction this was supposed to be.

“Look, they’re not coming to pick you and the others on that list up for another hour or so—and I really don’t want you to be tormenting yourself on what might happen. So, how about you sit down and I’ll be right back with a present?”

It wasn’t the strangest thing she’d heard lately, but the idea of one of her captors getting her a present was certainly high on the list. With a raised eyebrow, Caylee quietly moved towards one of the kitchen chairs as Joel practically skipped out the door. The only thing that went through the back of her mind as he shut the door was what her present could be…

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As it would turn out, the present was an assortment of sweets and junk food Caylee had been forbidden to eat while in her captors’ custody. It was a delectable assault of chocolate and caramel that flooded her synapses; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to enjoy something like this. She was too busy gorging herself to hear Joel’s amused chuckle as he watched her dive into the treats.

He stayed quiet as she pulled out a blue jellybean from the bag. It was within these few precious moments of silence between them that Joel took on a different demeanor than he’d let any of the tenants see. His shoulders slumped as he exhaled, his muscles relaxing as he leaned back against the chair. The corner of his lip curled softly; she really did remind him of his daughter. While they’d only known each other for a short time, admittedly under less than stellar conditions, Joel truly had come to care about Caylee. They weren’t supposed to grow attached to the girls.

He didn’t know why he’d grown to care about Caylee, by now it didn’t really matter to him. All he knew was that tonight was going to be hell for both of them. Caylee was going to be thrown to the wind and he was going to have to let it happen. Despite what he was feeling — this urge to defy his masters and save the girl from her fate, this wasn’t a movie. He wasn’t an action hero fighting through entire buildings of criminals just to save one girl; Joel was simply a man with too much red on his ledger to sleep comfortably at night. The best he could do was make her comfortable for the time being, and he was going to do exactly that.

Soon enough, he heard the sound of the truck pulling up in the alley and knew it was time.

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As Caylee settled into the confines of the semi-trailer, the only thing that gave her any sense of comfort were the near silent whimpers coming from the girl beside her. There wasn’t any light in the trailer, which meant she couldn’t see her own hand mere inches away from her face. Among her group were five women ranging from their late teens to surprisingly sixties. Of the five, four didn’t speak English; the only one who could was an elderly woman by the name of Jaime.

Caylee had seen her in the building from time to time when she was allowed to leave the apartment once in a great while. Seeing her, one couldn’t help but wonder why Jaime was taken in the first place. She was the exact image of the sweet old lady next door that sat on her porch all day without a care in the world; Jaime was sweet and endearing. From what she had seen, there wasn’t a reason to not like her.

The one thing she couldn’t understand was how Jaime was able to maintain that upbeat attitude. Despite what one might have expected from their situation, Jaime was quite talkative. Normally, they were forced to keep quiet, yet their captors didn’t bother Jaime. Caylee should have been asking herself why they were lenient with her, but she found herself focused on something far less important.

No, somehow, she was more focused on the fact she went from a crappy run-down apartment that at least had natural lighting, food, and a functioning bathroom to being in a pitch-black semi-trailer, no food or water, and not even so much as a bucket; it wasn’t right or remotely in the realm of importance, but she couldn’t help it. They’d been traveling for what must have been a few hours by now, at least it certainly felt that way.

She should have been more worried about what was going to come next, this auction that Joel mentioned. Her stomach was queasy and there was a light pressure in her chest, but it was nowhere near where it should have been. Caylee was just tired — so tired that she no longer cared. All she wanted was for the torture to finally cease. Resting her head on her knees, a stifled laugh caught the teen’s attention.

“Are you giving up? That would be such a pity. You’re far too young for that.” Jaime said and the smoothness of her voice startled Caylee. It sounded far more youthful than she had imagined a borderline elderly lady to sound like. It lacked the raspiness and menacing growl that most adults she knew possessed.

“I just want it to be over,” Caylee mumbled, unsure of why she was saying this. Somehow, she could picture the clandestine smile on Jaime’s face right now even with it being pitch black.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue, dear?” Jaime chuckled in quite a peculiar way that had Caylee’s lips quirk up in amusement. Caylee almost rolled her eyes. Of course she’d say that. “Hey, now… no need for the attitude. I might be old, but I’m not daft. I don’t need to see you to know what you’re thinking.”

“Wha-” the teen coughed, eyes widening in surprise. “How did you-”

“Use your words. Who knows how long we’ll have until that isn’t possible.”

“Fine… how are you so calm? You’re stuck in here too.” she asked, to which the old woman merely replied with a contemplative hum.

“I don’t know about that, stuck is such a strong word. Trust me, we’ll be out of here soon enough,” Jaime assured her, the image of the wrinkles from the sickeningly sweet smile she had to be sporting burning into Caylee’s mind. “Regardless, there’s no point in panicking. What good is it going to do?”

“I’m not panicking.”

“Maybe you’re not, but the others are.”

“How can you-”

“Call it good old intuition,” Jaime chuckled. “Hmm, do you want to know why I’m not afraid?”

“Alright, I’ll bite. Not like I’ll be any worse for wear.” Caylee said as she sat up and pressed her back against the wall of the trailer. This had to be good.

“It’s because we’re going to be okay,” she explained, making the teen nearly choke on air. It was too bad she couldn’t see Jaime, because she really wanted to know if she was joking. “Trust me, you’ll see.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Thunder roared in the distance as the elderly woman chuckled. “When I was a girl, Mama used to tell me that Mother Nature was always watching.” Jaime said and Caylee resisted the urge to scoff. Alright, it was official: that old woman was delusional. Still, she had nothing better to do, so she’d keep quiet and indulge the old lady as she spun her tale. At least it’d distract the both of them.

“She’s not as rambunctious or as straightforward as y'all like to think. When you see things like climate change… y’know, glaciers melting, unpredictable weather, strange migratory patterns, those aren’t cries for help. They’re warning shots, and you don’t want to know what she could really do…” Caylee had been drifting off when Jaime’s voice shifted into a near growl that conveyed a surprising callous coldness that sent shivers down Caylee’s spine. That perked the teen immediately and forced her to give the old lady her full attention.

“When I was a child and bad things happened, Mama would always give me this smile and say: ‘Don’t you worry, baby-girl… nature will come for them.’ I never really knew what she meant back then — I told myself that it meant they’d all end up dead anyway and Nature would reclaim them, but that wasn’t even close.

“She’d say: ‘When the horrors of man take over, Mother Nature raises a storm. Manifesting its will by releasing creatures that you’d only see in your wildest dreams or nightmares, depending on who you ask. While she isn’t verbal, Mother’s always watching. She has to sit there and wait until the perfect moment to act, and when she does, oh… it’s a hell of a show.’ Mama was superstitious, so I thought she was just telling me a story to make me feel better and not act out. That’s what I thought until the night they came.”

“They?” Caylee found the question had slipped past her lips without a conscious thought. That such a thing had happened surprised the teen as being punished for speaking out of turn had been the primary source of lingering pains for the longest time. She immediately bit her lip in self-reprimand yet she couldn’t help her curiosity. There was something about the way Jaime told her story that captivated the girl; there was an energy and a profound wisdom that seemed to resonate with the very core of her being and drew her in. She needed to know as that thought had now supplanted any fear or anxiety about her current situation.

“She owed a nasty man a lot of money, and he came to collect. I hid beneath our front porch, and from where I was hiding I could see Mama clear as day through the boards above me. She didn’t look scared. In fact, she was smiling like everything was going to be alright. Those men were going to kill her, but they never had the chance. Just as one of them grabbed my mother’s throat, this noise came from the woods, and I’ll never forget it; somewhere in between a lion’s roar and a wolf howling, majestic and ferocious all the same. While I didn’t see what happened next, I know that those men were torn apart like paper. To this day, I don’t know what did it — but I do recall seeing its eyes peering through the boards at me… the most beautiful golden eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, so bright you’d almost swear they were glowing.”

Caylee heard the woman sigh as if it were her most cherished memory. The casualness with which Jaime spoke of such a massacre – with fondness no less – unnerved her and she buried her nerves by digging her nails into her palms. Why was this old lady sharing such a weird and violent story? Even if it was real, how the hell did that apply to their current situation? Plus, more so than anything, Caylee couldn’t understand the connection between the two events. Still, there was one thing she had to give Jamie credit for: now she was morbidly curious.

“So, what did you realize?”

“I realized it’s not the storm you need to be afraid of; it’s just the opening act to the show. What follows the storm is what you need to be afraid of. So, when you ask why I’m so calm… that’s why. The storm’s already come whether you’ve realized it or not, Caylee. You need to prepare yourself for what it’s unleashed, as it’s only a matter of time.”

It was then that Jaime went quiet as the truck slowed to a stop. Neither of them said another word as the doors opened and they were pulled to the street. After spending God knew how long trapped inside the semi, the few mercury-vapor lamps that lit this desert part of the city were enough to temporarily blind Caylee. Her discomfort was short lived as a couple of thugs manhandled her by her tattered shirt to stand at attention. Now she stood outside, with the frigid wind that crashed into her body; her clothes providing inadequate insulation against the inclement weather.

The other girls plus Jaime were pulled from the semi one by one. Some struggled and pulled on the grip the thugs had on them as they screamed in some foreign tongue that Caylee didn’t know; those fell quiet after a vicious backhand. The foreign girls balked in fear at the thugs that surrounded them then whimpered as they motioned the handguns they held and then fixed them with a vicious gaze filled with both lust and a warning to not do something they’d come to regret. By the time the five of them were all lined up, they were all quiet, shivering, and demure… except for Jaime, who hummed happily to herself as she swayed on her feet and kept a mischievous smirk splattered on her lips.

What a kooky old lady.

Caylee had wisened up a long, long time ago and knew when to pick her battles. Still, there was a tenseness in her muscles as she studied the men around them. They were common muscle, none of them seemed to be the main bossman of this operation and looked to be waiting for instructions. She took a moment to look around as the thought of making a run for it crossed her mind, but a glance down the streets revealed nothing but tire marks and a few rundown and abandoned buildings for miles. She axed the idea immediately after that and sighed a cloud of frost. While she scanned her surroundings to get a feel for where she was, she noticed a broken and rusted ferris wheel that belonged to a Six Flags that had already been abandoned long before Chicago had gotten its ‘New’ prefix. This time, she groaned as she knew exactly where they were. Great.

They were in Canton.

One of the thugs went toward the nearby dilapidated warehouse in front of them that somehow still had electricity. He neared a massive metal door that looked like it could withstand a bomb and pounded on it with thunderous hits like a hammer hitting an anvil. A couple of minutes later, it opened. The girls all held their collective breath – except for Jaime, of course, who looked like she had just thought of a particularly funny memory and quietly giggled to herself – as they stared at the recently opened entrance.

What emerged from the darkened depths of the warehouse was a man. Average height, but pale and thin, with long arms and a long, narrow face. He had dark hair; the actual shade impossible to tell under the awful lamp lights. It looked slicked back and matted, greasy, as if he had dunked it in hair gel or he’d gone over a week in between washes. His face was gaunt, with droopy, tired eyes and a full, short beard speckled white from age. He wore a dark navy pinstripe suit that was baggy around his waist and made his shoulders look a tad too bulky; with a white shirt underneath and a golden tie around his neck.

Caylee’s instincts screamed at her that this man was trouble.

He was scratching and picking at his nose when he went past the threshold and he looked uncomfortable due to the cold dryness of the air outside. The thug that had opened the door for him whispered a few words into his ear and the man nodded in assent. He lit a cigarette, took a drag then made his way over to them. A lot of the girls tried to shift away from him but were kept in place by the thugs. Caylee simply watched in silence as he came to stop a few paces away from their shivering forms. His eyes drifted lazily over them.

“This is the September crop?” He said with a hoarse voice, as if he’d spent the majority of his waking moments either screaming or smoking. He sounded just like most of the scumbags Caylee had come across during her captivity and that made her feel dirty. The same thug as before – a lieutenant, or second-in-command perhaps? – answered in affirmation and the man approached the far end of the line from where Caylee stood. “Slim pickings.”

He stood before the first girl and brought his hand to roughly grab at her chin. He tilted her head this way and that, parted her lips to look at her teeth, then ran his hand through her hair and brought a lock to his nose and sniffed it. The girl was shivering and couldn’t look at him as her eyes watered at the treatment. He then hooked his fingers on the neckline of her tank top and yanked it down harshly to gaze at her bare chest. After a minute or two, he let out a hum of… something, Caylee couldn’t tell if it was approval or distaste as his face remained neutral.

“First lot.” He said dispassionately and let go of the girl. He moved on to the next one in line and performed much of the same inspection. This time, Caylee thought he might have been more pleased as the inspection was far shorter and he then labeled her as ‘third lot’. When he approached the next girl he took a drag of his cigarette again and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Which one of you imbeciles did this?” He gestured at the bruises on the girl.

“They was being difficult, Mr. Warren. Put ‘er in her place, I did.”

The suit – Warren, apparently – slowly looked at the goon up and down then began to lazily nod his head a few times as he mulled something over. He approached the man with a sickly smile that unnerved Caylee then dusted the goon’s overcoat.

“‘Put her in her place’ did you? Even though they’re my property?” He said, still smiling, then nodded at his lieutenant. The man then swung his crowbar hard on the goon’s knees, which caused the man to double over and scream in pain. Warren took the crowbar from the lieutenant and began to beat the guy over and over with it. He didn’t look very strong, but the sheer number of blows and the fact he looked to be putting all his body weight behind them did the work. After barely a minute, the goon was whimpering and crying and groaning in pain.

“Did you shit-for-brains forget who we’re doing business with? What did I say about using my name!?” Warren said as he used the crowbar to force the goon to look at him. When the man didn’t respond, Warren pressed the carbon steel tool hard against his throat. “Tell me!”

“N-not to!”

“And what did you fucking do?”

“I-I’m sorry, boss, p-please!” Warren kept the crowbar pressed on the man’s throat, letting the teeth sink into the skin before he leaned forward to speak to him in a menacing growl.

“You’re lucky you hit her where we could still cover it up, otherwise things would’ve been much worse for you.” Warren said and Caylee mentally cursed him out for the scumbag that he was even as she bit her lip and dug her nails into her palms as she watched. Warren then stood up, straightened his tie up and handed the crowbar back to his lieutenant. He pulled out a wad of cash, counted a number of bills, and tossed it to the ground.

“You’re only getting half pay due to the damaged merchandise. Now get the fuck out of my sight and don’t bother coming back.” Warren said and turned away to completely disregard the man, even as he continued to whimper and moan over his busted kneecap, “And keep your fucking mouth shut!”

An uneasy silence descended upon the entire group, with only the cold wind and the terrified whimpers of the foreign girls to break up the stillness. Warren took another drag of his cigarette when he stilled as his mind finally registered the nonchalant presence of Jaime as she looked up at the sky and smiled. He studied her for a moment then made his way over. Once in front of her, Warren looked up to try and find what she was looking and smiling at but all he saw was the moon overhead. Warren’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he got over it quickly and opted to blow smoke right at the old lady to get a rise out of her.

“What’s so funny, you hag?” Warren said and he expected a hundred different reactions and scathing words from the elderly woman in front of him. What he did not expect was for her to look him right in the eyes with no hesitation. Normally, he wouldn’t have given two shits about something like that, especially not from a woman, but when he peered into the hag’s eyes he found himself unable to look away. She seemed to be gazing into the depths of his soul.

“Mother Nature’s watching us tonight, bwoy, now what will she see?” Jaime said in a low, unnaturally raspy tone then chuckled darkly. Caylee was only a foot away from her and she could barely hear her at all, but despite that, she also felt a shiver run down her spine. Something about what Jaime said did a number on Warren as well, seeing as he recoiled away from her, as if he had been stung, and brought an arm up to shield himself from the old lady. He watched her with widened eyes, nostrils flared in disgust. A silent beat passed as he waited for her to move or do anything, but Jaime simply stayed put and began to hum the same lullaby that Caylee had heard her hum at various points during their ride here. Again with a smile on her face.

Warren blinked a few times then cleared his throat and did an exaggerated showing of recomposing himself by running his fingers through his slicked hair, as if what transpired hadn’t affected him whatsoever. He straightened up and fumbled to bring the cigarette back to his lips as his hand trembled slightly, all while muttering ‘fourth lot’. At last, he moved swiftly on and stepped before Caylee. He paused and a smirk spread on his lips as he looked at her. Caylee tried her best to put on a brave face and glare daggers at Warren, but that only served to amuse the man further.

“Well now, what have we here?” Warren brought his left hand to stroke at his chin and only now Caylee noticed the gold ring inlaid with an engraved onyx on his pinky finger. The pungent smell of his cheap cologne assaulted her nostrils and that did little to keep the snarl off her face. “Looks like we finally got some choice product. I was wondering when it’d happen again; it's been a while.”

“Fuck you.” Caylee growled out.

“Feisty, I like that… you’ll make for an excellent main attraction for the final lot. The fiery ones always perform better than the placid toys.” Warren brought his hand up and softly brushed his fingertips on Caylee’s collarbone, tracing the contours of her stiffened form. She had to summon all her willpower to stop herself from lashing out at him – she did not want to die after all. He ogled at her up and down and licked his lower lip as his face inched closer to her, his voice took on a certain edge that Caylee’s mind registered as being lust and that caused her to feel sick in the stomach. “So much more enticing and less… boring.”

Caylee swallowed the knot in her throat and tried to pull herself away from this man but he grabbed her by the shoulder and kept her in place. She would deny to her dying breath that she whimpered then, but she would not deny that several uncomfortable thoughts rushed through her mind at that moment. Then, when she thought he might do something else, he let her go.

“Sadly, this one has already been spoken for. What a shame; I would’ve liked to invoke my right to sample.” Warren said and tsked even as he threw her a crooked smirk that made him look like a downright creep. Caylee hadn’t prayed or thanked God in a long time, but she’d do it if it meant she wouldn’t be under his ‘tender care’.

Warren pulled a phone out of his breast pocket and dialed a number as he moved away from the girls. Caylee released a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she felt all the tension and coiled nervousness leave her body. She nearly sagged in place over how tightly wound she was, but she caught herself in time. They weren’t free yet, not by a longshot, and the more time passed, the slimmer their chances seemed. After a couple of minutes on the phone, speaking to whoever other scumbag it was, Warren loudly clapped his hands to startle the girls and bring their attention back to him

“Now then, I welcome all of you to the Black Orchid. Please, enjoy your stay for tonight. We'll have very special guests and you, my dears, will be our entertainment.” Warren said with a weird inflection to his voice and a smug smile that split his face from ear to ear as he opened his arms. The heavy metal door behind him opened and he ushered them in. “Now be good and let the show begin.”