Intoned Resonance

1.

The girl's screams echoed again, snapping me out of my fear at being lost. I followed her voice, passing by identical, towering trees, dipping my boots in the snow without a second thought.

Her last cry for help was the loudest, coming from just behind a tree directly in front of me. Placing my hands on its frosty bark, I carefully moved around it, peeking my head out to see.

In a wide clearing circled by trees, a large campfire burned at the center. Stacks of wood, piled like a pyramid, sat in a pit framed with small round boulders. But something further back caught my eye—a car.

It was sleek, completely black, with silver rims and an impressive height. Every detail about it radiated wealth. I'd seen cars like this in newspapers once before, and now here was one in front of me for the second time in my life.

Its headlights glowed like dimmed jewels, warm and yellow, illuminating an area away from the firelight. It looked like it could fit four people or more, and deep down, I wanted to get a closer look. Not everyone could afford such a luxurious car, let alone something as fancy as this.

"Stop!"

Her voice startled me so much I stumbled back to hide. I'd forgotten about her and became instantly alert again. Crouching down, I peered out once more. There was a guy by the fire pit whom I hadn't noticed before.

He sat cross-legged on the snowy ground, staring into the fire. He had jet-black hair, not too short, and wore a navy coat that was long enough to spread out a bit on the ground.

Another guy with a buzz cut and an olive jacket emerged from in front of the car and walked toward the fire, pulling a girl with short ginger hair along by her hand. She cried, "Stop!" again.

"Stop crying!" he shouted, roughly jerking her hand up and down. She whimpered, a muffled sob escaping her, helpless.

"Please, let me go," she said softly this time, sniffing, her free hand clutching the guy's sleeve. "I promise I won't try to escape again."

He seized both of her hands now and shoved her aside so forcefully that she landed next to the guy gazing at the fire, who didn't even glance her way.

"Stay put!" he ordered when she tried to get up, and she obeyed.

"If you don't do it right now, I swear that I'll throw you into that fire." He said it calmly, his rigid stance relaxing suddenly. "And as for promises, my word isn't like yours."

The girl, hiccupping, looked at him silently and shook her head. "Please, have mercy."

"You've got to be kidding me." He rubbed his face with his gloved hands, mumbling to himself as he paced back and forth.

"You heard her," said the other guy, still staring into the fire. "She wants mercy."

"Forget that," the buzz-cut guy replied sharply. "They begged her for mercy, and she gave them none." He kicked the snow so hard it flew up in clumps, hitting the girl's bare back. Now that I looked more closely, I realized she was topless. A chill ran down my spine when I saw her chest—she had no nipples, as if she hadn't been born with any.

Her skirt was brown, long, and twisted around one leg, leaving the other exposed up to her thigh. She faced the fire, her gaze fixed downward at the ground.

"Get this over with, Nove," said the sitting guy, standing and revealing a cigarette in his hand. From his coat pocket, he took out a lighter, and I recognized its faint glow as he lit the cigarette. "She won't do anything for you."

"No," Nove muttered, shaking his head. Then he lunged at her, gripping her shoulders, trying to push her toward the flames. She screamed, hands and legs flailing as she fought to resist, though without making much headway.