Split the Deck

Chapter 2

I awoke in a pained daze, my eye brows drawing together as I groaned groggily. My head pounded, pain coursing through my sinuses. I heard shaky breaths and hushed sobs. I blinked, pushing myself up.

     "Where did he take us?" Marcia asked frantically.

     "Do you know what he did with my dad?"
     I ignored their questions, taking the time to take in my surroundings. Pristine white walls and clean concrete floors. In the front of the room was a wooden door to my left was a perfectly spotless bathroom with a fiery flower decorating the sink. I looked over at the girls then down at my own bed. Cots. They were laying on cots separated by a wooden end table.
     The walls, while clean, seemed to be nothing but drywall. I felt around my body, finding my phone safely tucked into my bra. I checked it real quick, making sure the girls didn't see it. No bars. In fact, this place was an utter dead zone. I turned the phone off to preserve the battery, stuffing it back in my bra. I checked for my tarot deck, finding it safely pressed against my hip in its black velvety bag. I breathed a sigh of relief. It must be my lucky day.
     The door was being unlocked, the room grew quiet. Our eyes shot to the door as it opened, seeing our captor entering, carrying a foldable wooden chair. The girls shifted fearfully in their cots, clinging to each other. I stayed still, my nerves turning numb. A little trick I had learned earlier on in my life, it helps keep my mind in check. Our captor set the chair down, positioning it so it was in the middle of us and wiped it with the cloth I had seen earlier before stuffing it in his pocket and adjusting his pants and sitting down.
     He took a moment, gazing at each of us though his eyes linger on mine a little longer than I had liked. His blue eyes remained icy, unblinking and unreadable. I straightened my spine and matched his stare.

     "I choose you first." He says, standing up and pointing at Marcia. She flips out, screaming in protest. I watch with wide eyes as Claire clung to her best friend with all her might. Our captor was clearly stronger, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her away from Claire without so much as a grunt. Though as he bent down to grab the chair he brought in Marcia managed to wiggle free, throwing herself at me. I pulled her close, gripping her arms and leaning into her.

     "Pee yourself. Pee yourself, Marcia." I whispered to her, making sure our captor didn't hear. My eyes flicked up to his and I found him staring at me from over her shoulder. I looked back at Marcia's face, tears staining her mocha colored cheeks and turning her chocolate brown eyes bloodshot. She was sobbing loudly, I could only hope that she heard me. In an instant she was ripped away from me, being carried out of the room. My heart race as we hear her sobs quiet down then altogether silence themselves.

     "What is he doing to her?" Claire sniffles, asking no one in particular. We both knew the answer to that though, I was only hoping my advice could help her. I remained quiet, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them tightly to me. The air turned heavy with tension, only for it to be shattered as we heard outraged roars and shouts. She must have taken my advice.
My suspicion was confirmed as he stormed in, tossing her into the room. Claire caught her and steadied her. His normally stoic face now twisted in disgust.

     "Disgusting!" He spat, slamming the door and locking it with force. I turned my attention to Marcia, noticing a large wet mark on her inner thighs, her hands fiddling with her skirt, pulling it down more and looking at me with shame in her eyes.

     "He wanted me to dance for him..." she told us, her voice low and thick with shock. Claire hushed her, leading into the bathroom to help her clean up.