Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 13 - The Whisper of a Haunting Touch

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART ONE: Tears Fall When You See The Truth

Chapter 13 - The Whisper Of A Haunting Touch

It was dark in the room and the sounds of the night could be heard, although slightly muffled by the doors, but yet Ally lay awake. Daniil's parting words to her seemed to run through her mind like a broken record and, left in their wake, she could find no sleep.

"Do not think that I am giving up because when you return, you may find yourself placed back into the same exact situation. However, I feel that you will learn to trust me once you realize just how little else you have. You are alone here and, without me, you are also defenseless. Let's see how you enjoy working in the Harlem for a week and then we will see how you feel about belonging to only me." He paused outside of a grand doorway then, turning to face her with warning clear in his expression. "And remember, what you will experience now is not as bad as it would be should you force me to permanently leave you in the harlem and thus find another personal slave; for now you are still under my protection and no other man would dare touch what is mine, but keep testing me and you will find yourself in a very delicate position."

She shuddered once again, turning over in her tiny cot. Ally knew nothing of what she might encounter in her new surroundings and, having only been given a few days to recover from Daniil's mistreatment, she knew she would not have the strength to fight off whatever terrors and trials were awaiting her upon the break of dawn.

Thus, when the first rays of light began peaking in beneath the wooden door and the mysterious roommate -whose belongings she had seen in the room the previous night- returned, Ally still found herself wide awake. She did not move from her position on one of two cots the small room gave home to but nevertheless, her eyes followed the movement of the woman entering.

The woman slipped into the room casually, not giving Ally a single acknowledgement or second glance as she rifled through a drawer in the wooden chest at the end of her bed. The woman's bed, like her own, was a cot and the chest at its foot seemed to be the most expensive piece of furniture that resided in the shabby room. However, the clothes within the chest were made of lavish and costly material. Even from her lacking vantage point, Ally could make out a wide array of colors and textures, each made of fine lace and cloth. She had not looked through her own matching trunk but she would imagine that hers contained the same merchandise. Ally did not know much of the gang's harlem but she could guess on its purpose enough to understand the treatment of the women located within it.

The roommate shrugged off the thin robe that had rested on her shoulders, its silky material sliding down the creamy skin of her thighs before it finally came to rest in a pool of shimmering red on the floor. Its absence revealed scandalous undergarments, confirming Ally's silent predictions. The woman sneered at Ally when she noticed that the younger girl was watching her, slamming the lid of her chest shut after throwing the red robe inside. "Don't you have something better to do than stare at me while I get undressed?"

Ally stared at her new roommate wide eyed, unsure of how to proceed.

"Look, I will tell you of the duties that will be expected of you here in this harlem but do not think for an instant that I will be your friend or even show kindness to the likes of you. Unlike those of us that are stuck within this nightmare, you were lucky enough to be chosen as a personal slave. Do not expect me to respect someone who stole the only hope I had of finding even a hint of content in this eternal prison." The words seemed to lash out and surround Ally, stunning her into a confused silence in which she did not even dare to breathe.