The View in New Orleans

Wait for a Minute; Wait for a While

The flame sang in the old kerosene lantern, dancing around the edges, performing a grand waltz for everyone to see. Unfortunately, its only spectator was a girl, passed out on a dirt floor, pink hair pooling over the dirty floor, specks covering the girls tanned complexion.

Her head throbbed, her body was slack against the wall, letting the cold brick have the burden of her weight. Pain jolted up her spine as she sat, barely even recounting what had happened the nights before, her thought making her mind tremble as the realization had hit her.

Where am I?

She opened her eyes, slowly and carefully, bracing for what she might see. Infront of her was a dark brick, much like the wall she leaned upon. A crudely placed wooden door was to her right.

The room was tiny, she could almost touch the other wall while sitting, and it was uncomfortably damp, making it overly hot for the girl. She took the lantern in hand, and stood up, turning toward the door. She peered through the cracked glass, and saw a woman staring at her, a bored look on her face, messy hair, and an eyepatch covering the majority on the womans face.

She jumped back, startled by the woman, before hearing a low, hanging laugh erupt from the womans mouth, before she banged on the door, causing the pink haired girl to jump once more, hitting her already sore head on the back wall.

"Get up, Amora."

"Who.. who are you?"

"That will be none of your business, girl. Get up, or you'll regret it."

Amora complied, slowly shifting her legs to stand, holding her balance upon the cold wall to her left, groaning. Her body was sore, and there were open wounds all over her arms and legs.

The door swung open, before the woman stepped forward, her black hair enveloping Amora as she squeezed her face, and raised a needle. It was stabbed into her neck, causing her to go slack against the woman, with not a chance to complain.

She was dragged out of the room, through the dark corridors, before being thrown in a traders wagon, an old rickety one, even horse drawn. It would be more inconspicuous than a car, and they could stash her under the supplies.

The woman met up with a man, tall and dark haired, his cool dark skin contrasting with the warm light colors, before being ordered to carry the girl. The man complied, and he hoisted her up, supporting her with the brawn of his shoulders. The girl was light, and the man had no difficulty transporting her to the wagon, before asking for the woman's help on burying her beneath the supplies.

They stashed her under boxes upon boxes, tying her up in the process, and taping her mouth closed, before shutting the back on the wagon, and entering the front, the woman taking the reigns from the man. Idle chit chat was shared upon the long journey ahead of them.

Amora woke up about halfway through, blinking awake. She felt worse than she had before, dragging her eyelids open as the boxes of supplies weighed heavy over her body. Amora attempted to scream, but the muffling made little to no sound, and caused the man in front to yell to her to cut it out, before returning back to the conversation (it was about favorite cheeses).

She suffered in the back, having to listen to hours of pointless conversation shared between the two people that stole her. She didn't even know what they looked like, nevertheless who they were, and why they wanted her. Why was she so special to the pair?

"...so you would know. When do you think we deliver this girl to the boss?" She heard the man say after a while, briefly listening to the conversation.

"Mmm, no clue. All I know is that we could use her for a bit. As long as she's not on the outside, she can be... of use." The woman responded, making Amoras blood run cold, her mind racing as she thought of the certain death she would most likely face.

"What are you going to use her for?" The man prodded, questioning her motives.

She paused, before responding in a low, almost threatening tone.

"I need her for my new serums. I've recently been experimenting with hallucinogenic gasses, transformed into liquids. Sure to make anybody collapse from fear- even you. I just need to perfect it." The woman uttered, before clearing her throat.

"I understand, at least a bit. Your work is very impressive, Eden. Lalo must be proud man, I'm surprised you found someone at least half decent to court, considering your tastes."

"Yes, as am I."

The two went silent after that. The woman's name was Eden, Amora thought, as she sunk farther and farther into her own thoughts, closing her eyes, and trying to drift off into sleep.

"Could you pass me the water, Orion?"

"Yes ma'am." He spoke, before climbing into the back. Amora felt his weight pressing up against hers, the boxes pressing harder and harder, causing for her to whine, being pushed up against the back of the cart. The man yelled, telling her to quiet down, before sifting through some of the materials. He took the box covering her head off, and grabbed the waters from inside. She stole a peek at the mans face, his shaggy, shoulder length black hair, with a bandana covering his mouth. His eyes met hers, and she instantly realized who he was.

The "boogeyman".

She was doomed, she though to herself, internally flipping out, and tensing up. She just thought the man was tall tale for the village folks, but she had been wrong. Terribly wrong. And she paid the price, staring straight at the mans beady red eyes, one of the only details she could make out in the dark twilight, before he put the box back on her head, and lept out of the back, and up to his seat in front.

She heard the thump of a jug of water being sat on a wooden seat, the clumsiness of hard metal meeting with decade old log. She tried focusing on the sounds around her- the song of the fireflies, the crunching of the wood beneath the wheels, the rumbling of the cart. Eventually, it lulled her into sleep, the songs of the wildlife being familiar, especially in the unfamiliar setting.

A few hours later, though, the cart came to a sharp halt, crashing Amoras head against the planks, before she felt boxes being lifted off of her. There she met the gaze of Eden and Orion.

"Welcome to your new home." Eden said, before ordering Orion to get her out. He dragged her out, before throwing her onto the floor, and dragged her face-down. She cried, her wounds growing larger and larger as she was manhandled. Every time she cried out, she earned a kick in the ribcage, prompting her to stifle her cries. She was pulled into a door, before feeling the planks beneath her, earning several splinters, and being thrown into a small bedroom. She was untied, before being shoved down onto the stiff bed. She heard the door lock behind her, and she lept up, much to her injuries dismay.

She saw several cameras, a cheap bedside table, and a small, tiny blanket. And, when she turned around, she saw the steel door. And behind it, the man stood. His eyes gazed into hers, before he tore of the bandana, his mouth curling into an ugly smile.

She was going to die.