2 The Beast

I woke up restrained, with a numbing pain consuming every fibre of my body.

The taste of freedom that I could taste merely hours ago was soaked into the ropes binding my body to the cold, metal chair.

The room was dark, with only the light from the moon gleaming through a small square high up on the wall as a source of light. like the whole wall, it was a tease. A way to taunt those captives in the room. It was too small to escape from, too high to reach. It just sat there, reminding us how close we are to the hands of freedom: the freedom that could never be ours again.

It hasn't been long since I woke from my forced slumber, but since I did, the scent of blood and unrueing sweat overwhelmed my senses. Since then I've tried to escape. I've tried everything; from biting off my gag and wiggling out my hands to trying to get the chair to break. Nothing succeeded.

But that doesn't mean that a failure is an option.

The painful throbbing from behind the door morphed with my irrational fear of the unknown and served as a reminder that failure is not an option.

A metal door at the end of the room opened with a teasing squeak, with a blinding light shooting from its gape. I was blinded for a few moments while my eyes tried to adjust to the light. Through my blurred vision, I could see a man walking through the doorway, like a shadow surrounded by light. Blinking my vision back to focus, I could see more into that silhouette. His features sharpened and body came into view. He was tall, one could see that with his shadow alone. He dawned rugged shoulders with muscles evident under the flimsy white dress shirt. His arms were broad and noticeably strong, while his fingers kept balling into a fist.

He was attractive if you were into that whole muscular sort of thing. But not in the conventional, boy next door sort of way. his appearance drastically differed from the conventional stereotypical image, with not a single strand of golden blond hair, nor did was he awarded the signature blue eyes and a million-dollar smile. His hair was a mess of dark curls, making his facial features stand out in the most flattering way possible, and his eyes: they were a storm. A concoction of blacks and greys that came together to shine darkness under the light of the moon.

That's when it clicked. His eyes were like a key, unlocking my last memories of the night. The dark shadow. The pain. Then consuming darkness.

It was him.

I began to try and break free once again only to be stopped momentarily by a blinding light filling the room: it was a dangling bulb from the ceiling, handing dangerously over my head.

With the whole room lit, my surrounding became much clearer, as well as the reason for the scent of blood.

The walls were unpainted, with smears and handprints of blood. There was a metal fold-up table in the corner, close to the door, scattered with chains and whatnot. My panic seemed to set in when my eyes caught up with what my brain had been thinking, and it seemed to amuse the man.

"Let me go!" I tried to scream, only to have it come out as a pathetic mess due to the gag. I let out a scream of distress, refusing to give up.

The man looked amused.

He walked over towards the table and found a knife hidden under the mess of chains, just as another man walked in- this one looking more like the boy next door with the overwhelming brightness of his blue eyes, but platinum grey hair instead of the usual blonde. It was clearly dyed.

"Great, I thought that I'd be too late." He spoke to the other man, ignoring my presence entirely as he walked in.

"That's the girl?" he asked rhetorically as amusement dripped from his tone, to which his dark-eyed friend nodded.

Blue eyes walked over, taking off his blazer and wiping off any traces of amusement from his face. I'd admit, he scared me a bit. But I won't let him know.

He kneeled down before me, whipping out a fold-up pocket knife from his pants. I recognized the ombre metallic blade immediately. It was mine. They've been through my stuff!

I scowled at the sight of my weapon in the hands of my enemy and he smirked.

"What's your name, Princess?" He said the last part as a tease, looking me directly in the eye.

"Like hell, I'd tell you!" I wanted to say, but the gag made it sound like muffle, again.

"Let's get rid of that pesky little thing shall we." He brought the knife up to my cheek, and slid it against the rope of the gag, dropping it from my mouth, but leaving a trail of blood on my cheek. I knew that it wasn't fatal, but it was enough to sting.

My mouth was sore from being forced open for so long, and it has only occurred to me now, the desert residing in my mouth.

"Was that necessary?" I hissed in a scratchy voice. I was beyond livid and just wanted to leave.

"What's your name?" Blue eyes asked again with a tone leaving no room for disrespect. if it had been any other girl he'd been talking to, he'd have their passport number and diary key by now.

"Like hell, I'd tell you." I spat out with rage, and before I knew it, my chair was tilted backward onto two legs and a hand fisted through my ruggedly cut hair to meet the pair of storm eyes that I'd almost forgotten about.

"He asked you a question." He told harshly into my ear, as he dragged the knife he'd retrieved moments ago up my arm to the tender flesh at my neck. With a gulp, I could feel the sharp blade making close contact with my skin. I thought of lying, but the warning look in his eye told me not to.

"Lacey." And my chair landed back on four legs with a thud, after they both shared a satisfied look with each other.

"So Lacey, what were you doing back at the harbour at that part of the night?" I could feel the ghostly touch of the knife on the back of my neck.

"I've been sleeping there for the past week, inside one of the containers." I did not lie. I need to make it out alive, and something told me that these people were able to sniff out lies like a dog.

Blue eyes raided a brow at the man behind me before continuing.

"Why?"

"Why else would people sleep on the streets?" stupid questions get stupid answers.

He looked behind me again, at the little grey-hair man.

"Okay, Lacey. Then why did you try to steal from us?" my hair was fisted from being me again and the knife on the back of my neck moved to its previous position at the front again.

"Watch your tone this time." The man behind me warned.

"I'm sorry okay, I saw the drugs there and just wanted to take a few. I'm sure that you have it back by now. Just let me go and you'll never see me again, I promise. "I hated sounding so vulnerable in front of them, but truly, I was beginning to panic.

"Do you have any idea what you've brought yourself into, junkie?"

"I don't do drugs. I promise. I just wanted to sell a few, to get a little money." I let out a yelp of pain when I felt two-bladed on either side of my neck, pressing hard. But not drawing blood... yet.

"Okay princess, this is where things get exciting. "