Among Wolves (Number 117)

Number 117

Number 117

S.R. Flowers

©All Rights Reserved

When I was little I used to dream of the day that I would become a wife. Now that fantasy is over. Who would want a used up, disgusting, vile girl like me as a wife. No one, that's who. I wouldn't appeal to any man with my horrendous pale skin, coated in black and blue patches, or my raw scars that adorned my pasty skin. My blue eyes had lost all their shine to them, and now they where dull, and lifeless. They had gone from being the color of a lively ocean to being a cold blue stone. My lips where plump and swollen, with dry blood in the corners. Not attractive at all. And my body was weak and fragile. I could see the outline of my ribs and my legs where too boney. I wasn't pretty, and nor wanted by a descent man. Except for one, my father. He was the one and only man I wanted in my life and the only one who wanted me in their's. I was only waiting for the day that someone, anyone, would come and rescue me form this burning hell hole. I knew I should have listened to my father and not ran out of the house that day. I was only fifteen. After my father had forbid me from seeing chase, the schools bad boy. Being the hormonal, dramatic, misunderstood teenager I was, I ran out of the house, but not before telling my dad I hated him. It was a cold chilly night, with a light layer of snow. It was freezing, so I'd figure I walked to McDonald's or something. I'm attempt to escape the cold I thought I'd take a shortcut through a field. Little did I know that, that field was notorious for children abductions. I was still a child. I was naive, and now I was paying for it.

When I had finally crossed the field and was entering the road all I could think about was about how I would call Chase and tell him to pick me up. I didn't pay any attention to the faded light blue van that had began to trail me. And then when the doors had opened and two pairs of arms had dragged me inside, it had been too late. My startle screams where the last thing I remembered before I was knocked unconscious and then I woke up here.

In hell.

~~~

"Number 117 step forward." A husky voice called out. I looked away from the men who stood across from me staring at us through glass walls. They where looking at us like we where some type of delicious exquisite food. And I hated it. I was a human, not something they could buy for their own pleasure.

I stepped forward, the hem of the red worn out dress I wore dragged across the pavement.

"That one, I want her. How much for her?" A new voice said, and out of habit I put on the face of the warrior inside me that I had grown accustomed to using. It was a face I used when I wanted to fend them off. I wanted to show them that I wasn't going to go down easy. I wasn't going to be a walk in the park, just the exact opposite. To my dismay, this man must have wanted me so badly that he didn't change his mind like others that had fallen for my warrior face.

This man really wanted me, and that scared me. I just hope that he wouldn't beat me like the last man had. I could still feel his heavy hands as they came down on my cheek leaving behind a stinging pain.

"500." The enemy said.

"Why so much money?" The man who wanted me said.

"This one's a special one. One of the prettiest and most popular."

"I'll take her then, for three nights."

Three nights!? This man wanted to do so many bad things to me, I could feel it. Who would want a vile girl like me for so much time? I was worthless, barely enough for one night.

"117, come over here. You have a new client."

The key word here, was client. I wasn't being sold like the rest, because I brought in so much money. I was rare, the enemy had said. But for how long?

I walked past the long line of girls who like me where abused and raped constantly. Their faces where gray and sad. You could see fear in their eyes as well as trauma. Poor tormented souls.

By the time I reached the end line of girls, my enemy awaited me.

He looked at me with brown, charcoal, beady, eyes as he undid my handcuffs.

"All right, pay up." He said behind his shoulder to who ever my client was.

Then out of the group of men stepped out a young, handsome face. At first I thought I was hallucinating. A man so handsome and young shouldn't be here. The usual men who came here where old, obese, perverted and filthy. Simply unpleasant to the eye.

This man was tall, dressed in black slacks, and a blazer. Underneath you could see he was well built with muscle, yet he was lean. His dirty blonde hair was combed to perfection and his nails where groomed. He eyes me with crystal blue eyes, and for some reason I couldn't help, but to look back at him with the same intense glare. This man captivated me. I only hoped he was gentle and not as ruthless as the other men had been.

But one question surfaced, why was this man here? He was clearly of high class, so why come to a place like this?

"Number 117, this is your client. You're his for three nights. You must obey him in everything he says or you will have to suffer the consequences. Understand?" The enemy said.

"Yes sir." I replied.

"Good, now go along with him, and remember, don't be shy." The enemy chuckled afterwards at the last part. I fought back a scowl and took my client's hand.

"Hello sir...I'm 117."

~~~

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~S.R. Flowers