Unmarked

10. Arrival

One of the sidekicks holds me up as I stumble down several sets of stairs. Our feet slap loudly on the solid steps below us. Four flights of stairs. We must be entering a basement or cellar. Two doors have slammed behind us, their purpose is to keep people in as much as out.

Another door opens and I hear voices which quieten as we near. The bag is removed from my head and it takes a few blinks before my eyes adjust to the surroundings: a huge industrial-looking room, windowless and dingy. The only light is provided by numerous spherical bulbs dangling from the ceiling. In the centre is a large raised square platform with a rope around its perimeter. A scattering of tables and chairs fill the rest of the space. Everything is concrete and metal, bleak and cheap.

This is unlike any establishment I've dealt with who aim for luxury, opulence and attractiveness, albeit succeeding in varying degrees. This place is the no-frills option, the cheap option, the hopefully keep your clothes on option.

A few of the tables have been pushed together to form a larger table which is surrounded by a group of people who had been eating food but are currently staring at me with intrigue.

"Gloria, I have an addition to your family," Lars says loudly. Resting his hand on my shoulder, he pushes me forward.

A woman stands up and approaches. Her arms and legs are thick and defined. She looks strong, overly strong like a horse on steroids: one kick and you'll be begging for mercy.

"She wanted to come here?" Gloria inspects me suspiciously, her eyes roaming over my body. Her fingers run through my hair and over my clothes. Standing perfectly still, I refuse to flinch.

"She was adamant about working somewhere which would allow her to keep the most amount of clothes on," Lars responds. "This is the only place which can accommodate such a wish."

"It will still be less clothes than what your use to by the looks of it." Gloria gently tugs the high neck of my collar.

"That's not particularly hard in all honesty. I'm aware my clothing choice ranks ten out of ten on the prude scale," I retort.

Stifled laughs sound from behind her and a flicker of the corner of her lips reveal a smile. For a second she looks beautiful. Gloria pats me down and checks my pockets. I assume she's looking for weapons.

"Why doesn't she have wrist ties?" She arches an eyebrow.

"It wasn't necessary, she was relatively compliant," Lars says.

I snort. So compliant I stopped you from being arrested by Officials.

"It's going to take a bit of work to get her ready, but I'll find something for her to do in the evening while we get her trained up," Gloria says.

"You know what's best," Lars yawns. The yellow tinge of his skin has darkened a few shades.

He walks off but I remain fixed to the spot, avoiding looking at the people who have returned to their food but continue to watch me from the periphery of their vision.

"We haven't had any newcomers for a while. Most prefer to work in his other locations as they're willing to give away more so they can live a more comfortable life. Life here is rudimentary. You get three meals a day: one after we shut, one after training and the other two hours before we open. We work every night. You get a shared bedroom free of charge. I can arrange for you to have your own room at an extra cost which will be deducted from your pay which you'll know from the figure Lars gave you is already pathetically small." Gloria waits for my response.

I don't bother telling her Lars didn't give me a figure. I'm not planning on staying long enough to find out how much you get paid for working here. It's surprising Lars give them a wage. I know a lot of places don't. It's clever of him. If people think they can buy their way out they'll be a lot more submissive.