Disappearance: A broken Wing

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Blood—so much freaking blood.

I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing and scraping at the crimson stains on the carpet, but no matter how hard I cleaned, the smell clung to me. It clung to my skin, my hair, my soul. As much as I wanted to believe I could escape, I knew the hard truth: I was going to die here. I'd never see my family again. No matter how I looked at it, everyone in this house was living on borrowed time, and the moment Keto decided, that time would run out.

I used to watch stories about sex trafficking on TV, but I never understood the true horror of it—not until now. It's worse than any nightmare, worse than any fear I've ever known. And the only reason I'm here? Because I tried to save a little girl. I wonder if she's okay. I hope to God she's somewhere safe, far away from men like Keto.

It took me five long, grueling hours to erase every trace of Maely from this room. My friend. My only ally. Gone—because of me. I needed to stop dreaming of hope and face reality. I wasn't going to make it out of this hellhole alive.

"Kara, Keto is ready for you in the first bedroom."

Marco's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. My stomach churned. I'd almost forgotten—I was supposed to be "pleasing" Keto. How was I supposed to lie with the man who made me kill my friend? How could I touch him when all I wanted to do was claw his eyes out?

"Tell Keto I'll be there in ten minutes. I need to wash the blood off first." My voice sounded distant, hollow.

"Make it quick. The boss is getting impatient."

I didn't answer him. I just grabbed the bloodied sponges, dropped them into the sink, and stepped into the shower. The water burned my skin, but I welcomed the pain—it felt like the only thing that could still remind me I was alive.

As I washed, my thoughts turned dark. Caring—that's who I am. I care, even when it destroys me. But what happens if I stop? What happens when I give in and let this place turn me into something I'm not?

I dried off and stepped out, wearing nothing because clothes weren't allowed. I took a deep breath, pushing all the bile and rage down as I walked toward Keto's room.

"I've been waiting for you."

"I was busy cleaning up blood," I muttered.

"Well, you're here now."

Keto rose from the bed; his sharp eyes locked on me. He grabbed me by the back of my thighs, pulling me against him. "Let's make this night... memorable."

I almost laughed—bitter and broken—at his choice of words. I'd already lost everything: my virginity, my dignity, my hope, my family, myself. What more was there for him to take?

"Fine," I whispered. "Let's do it."

I grabbed Keto's face and kissed him aggressively, my lips bruising his. I felt nothing but hatred. If he were drowning, I'd watch with a bag of popcorn. But I had to play his sick little game. If I didn't, more women would die—and I couldn't stomach that.

Keto lifted me easily, his hands gripping my bare skin as he carried me to bed. He laid back, positioning me on top of him like I was his prize. His hands slid between my legs, and I flinched when his fingers found my clit. I hated it. I hated every touch, every smirk. But I stayed still because the alternative was another body on the floor.

"You're getting better at this," he said with a low chuckle. "Now, show me something special."

I hesitated. My whole body froze.

I kissed down his torso, forcing myself to move lower. I knew what he wanted, but my mind screamed at me to stop.

"Kara, baby," he murmured, "it's cold here. Warm me up."

I clenched my fists. I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to go that far.

"Kara..." His voice turned sharper. "You don't want more bodies to show up, do you?"

That was it—the threat that made my stomach twist. My hands shook as I let out a long, shaky breath. Then, hating myself more than ever, I took him into my mouth.

"Good girl," Keto moaned, arching his hips. "I think you're ready for your next meeting."

This was my life now. This was what I had become. Not Kara. Not the girl who used to laugh with her brother, or dream about her future, or love birthdays and surprises. No.

I was just waiting for someone—anyone—to put a bullet in my head so I could finally be free.