Lost Between Worlds

Chapter 8: Bound and Broken

Elena's eyes fluttered open, the dull ache in her head intensifying as the world came back into focus. She felt the rough texture of rope biting into her wrists and ankles, her body swaying slightly with the motion of the wagon she was in. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and sweat, and the only sound was the creaking of wooden wheels rolling over uneven ground.

As she stirred, her mind scrambled to piece together how she got here. The forest. The boy. And then... nothing. Now she was here, bound and trapped. Her heart raced as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, scanning the cramped space she was in. There was another figure beside her, a girl, similarly tied up but much more alert. She had a sharp, dangerous look in her eyes—a look that made Elena wary.

"Finally awake, huh?" the girl muttered, her voice low and laced with a dry edge. "You must've been out for a while."

Elena blinked, her throat too dry to respond at first. She could feel the ropes digging into her skin, the binds too tight for her to move even slightly. Her mind was racing with panic, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

"Where... are we?" she finally croaked.

The girl glanced at her with an almost bored expression. "Captured, obviously," she said matter-of-factly. "They're probably planning to sell us, or worse. Bandits, slave traders—take your pick." Her tone was disturbingly casual, as if she'd seen it all before.

Elena's stomach twisted at the thought. Bandits? Slave traders? It all felt like something out of a storybook, not the terrifying reality she was now facing. Her eyes darted to the front of the wagon, where the voices of men could be heard—rough, laughing, and occasionally throwing out vulgar comments. They sounded disgusting, like predators who'd caught their prey.

The girl beside her shifted, trying to get more comfortable despite her restraints. She had a hard edge to her, like someone who had learned how to survive by any means necessary. "The name's Marla, by the way," she said without looking at Elena. "Not that it matters much right now, but I figure you'd want to know who you're tied up with."

Elena nodded, unsure how to respond. She felt too scared, too confused to focus on introductions. She glanced around the small wagon again and noticed someone else. Another figure—this time a boy—lay motionless near them, blood crusted on his face. Elena gasped softly.

The boy looked young, not much older than her, but clearly injured. His face was pale, and his chest rose and fell in weak, shallow breaths. He looked like he'd been in a fight—or worse.

Marla followed her gaze and sighed. "They tossed him in after they got us," she explained. "Must've roughed him up pretty bad before bringing him here. Don't know why they bothered keeping him alive."

Elena swallowed hard, her thoughts a whirl of terror. She tried not to look at the boy too long, afraid to let the reality of the situation sink in. "Why are they doing this?" she whispered, almost to herself.

"Why do people do anything?" Marla replied coldly. "Money. Power. Control." She gave a half-shrug, as much as her restraints allowed. "This world isn't all sunshine and fairy tales, sweetheart. You've got to learn that fast."

Elena felt her heart sink. She had no idea where she was or how she'd ended up in this nightmare. Everything had been so confusing since she arrived. Was this a dream? Or was this terrifying reality her new life now?

She stayed quiet, avoiding Marla's sharp gaze. Something about the girl unnerved her, but she also couldn't help but feel a sense of reluctant trust. They were both in this mess together, after all. But Marla's presence was intimidating—there was something dangerous about her, something Elena couldn't quite put her finger on.

As the wagon jostled forward, Elena's mind wandered back to everything that had happened. What was this world? Why had that boy brought her here, only to abandon her to this nightmare? And what would her parents think now? Did they even notice she was gone? Her thoughts spiraled, a mix of fear and longing for the life she had taken for granted.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Marla shifted again. She leaned over, inspecting the injured boy, her hands still bound. "He's in bad shape," she murmured, her tone more serious now. "We've got to do something before he bleeds out."

Marla may have seemed tough and heartless, but the way she worked quickly, even with her hands tied, told a different story. Despite her words, she was trying to help the boy, checking his injuries and using whatever scraps she could find to stop the bleeding. She glanced back at Elena. "I'm no healer, but we can't just let him die."

Elena hesitated, watching as Marla's hardened exterior cracked just a little. She still didn't trust her—not completely—but it was clear that Marla wasn't just some cold-hearted criminal. There was something deeper there, something Elena couldn't fully understand yet.

The wagon hit a bump, jarring them all, and one of the men up front let out a disgusting laugh, followed by a string of crude comments. Elena felt a wave of nausea as they spoke about the girls in the wagon like they were nothing more than property. She glanced at Marla, who merely clenched her jaw, her eyes flickering with a controlled rage. Elena could see now that Marla was dangerous, not just because of her sharp demeanor, but because she was someone who had survived things like this before—and she wasn't afraid to fight back.

As the hours dragged on, the weight of the situation pressed down on Elena. Her wrists ached from the ropes, her mind reeling from everything she had experienced since arriving in this strange world. And Marla, for all her rough edges, was the only person Elena could rely on now.

"Get some rest," Marla muttered. "We'll need our strength if we're going to get out of this."

Elena nodded, though the fear still gripped her tightly. She leaned back against the wooden boards, her mind swirling with confusion and dread. This world—this strange, violent world—was becoming all too real, and she had no idea how to escape it.