2, Cornered

They drove for what felt like hours to Emma. But as they never left the city, it felt unlikely. At some point, her tears stopped, not because she had resigned to her faith but out of sheer exhaustion. 

She had been tired when she arrived home, and now, as the adrenaline wore off, she was left feeling like a balloon that had lost its air, empty and deflated.

The car slowed down. From Emma’s point of view, it was hard to see anything other than the top of the buildings and the night sky. But she could hear the steady beat of club music and the occasional shout from people. 

Emma perked up. If there were people around, she could be rescued. Emma had a firm belief in the inherent goodness in people. You would think that after three years working in the E.R, her rather naïve worldview would have faded. But she found examples every day of the good people did for each other. 

She, therefore, was convinced that if she only could let the people outside the car know she needed help, they would provide that help. She just needed to figure out how to let them know she was there.

As she was thinking, the car pulled into what looked to be an alley, judging by how close the walls of the buildings were on each side of the street. The short man turned around and gave her an intense look. Emma would rather not think about what was in that look.

“You better be quiet, bitch, if you know what is good for you. If you try to scream and someone comes over to check on you. I will put a bullet in them. Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

Emma felt herself go pale. There went her plan right out the window. She would never endanger another human being like that. She nodded. 

“Looks like the bitch finally understood that she shouldn’t speak,” the short man laughed at his friend. The muscular man chuckled as both of them got out of the car. 

Emma tensed up, and she felt the adrenaline kick back in as the back door opened. Someone cut the zip ties from her ankles and hauled her up and to her feet. Her legs felt stiff after being folded into an uncomfortable position for so long. No one cared as Mr Muscle pushed her forward, her hands still tied. 

They were indeed in an alley, Emma noticed. It was wide enough for the car, but not much else. Further down, there were a couple of dumpsters and three flickering lamps on the side of one of the buildings that provided some light. They were headed toward a green steel door, the only door in sight. 

Mr Tiny knocked on the door, and after a moment it was opened by a blond man in a dark blue suit. He looked like he came right out of a board meeting. Even through the fear and panic, Emma could see he was a mouth-watering man. The kind of man that made women go crazy. 

He looked at her without meeting her eyes, and one of his eyebrows shot up. 

“I thought you two went out on a collection round,” he said in a cool voice. 

Emma wanted to plead for him to help, to not let the other two men take her away. But he seemed to know them. She had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t help her. 

“Does it look like we come back empty-handed?” Mr Tiny told the blond hunk. 

The blond man looked down at Mr Tiny. Mr Tiny didn’t even reach to the blond man’s shoulders. The blond god looked at Mr Tiny for a long while. All that could be heard was the steady beat of the music that came from the building. 

“Take her to the counting room,” the blond man said, and Emma felt all hope die. 

Mr Tiny and Mr Muscle grinned and Mr Muscle pushed Emma through the door and into a long, white corridor with doors on both sides. 

“Untie her hands and wait for me,” the blond man said as they stopped in front of a door. He took out a security card and held it up to a reader by the door and entered a number sequence. The lock clicked and Mr Tiny pushed it open. Emma was roughly escorted into the room, and the door closed behind them with a thud. 

To Emma, the sound was the last seal of her fate. She had no chances left to escape. Mr Muscle took out a knife and Emma jumped. He chuckled and cut off the restraints around her wrists. 

Emma brought her arms forward, rubbing her wrists and feeling the blood flow being restored to her arms. Her right shoulder, the arm that Mr Muscle had wrung behind her back, ached. She didn’t think it was badly injured, maybe a small tear in the muscle tissue or stretched-out ligaments. 

As Emma rubbed her wrists, she started backing up, making sure she had an eye on both men. They were watching her as the back of her legs hit the table that was standing in the middle of the room. 

Emma carefully followed the shape of the table, never looking away from Mr Muscle and Mr Tiny. The blond god had not joined them in the room. She got to the edge of the table and started backing up again, putting the table between her and the two men. 

“Come on now, poppet. No need to fear us,” Mr Muscle grinned.

If Emma hadn’t already been scared beyond her mind, that grin would have scared her senseless. 

“Yeah, bitch, we are nice,” Mr Tiny agreed.

“Stay away,” Emma told them with a clear wobble to her voice. 

“The little bitch has found her voice again,” the short man taunted. 

“Stay away, don’t come near me,” Emma repeated, desperately. 

“But we need to test the merchandise,” he told her with a broad grin.

“W-what merchandise?” Emma asked, and looked around to see what she could use to fend for herself. 

The room was empty besides the table in the middle. On top of the table, there were a couple of pencils, a bill counter and a stapler. Emma hated her life at that moment.

“You, you are the merchandise, poppet,” Mr Muscle informed her. 

“Are you crazy? I’m a person, not a thing,” she screamed at them.

“Bitch, you are a person who we will sell to other persons. You will make them enjoy themselves for a while and then it will be the next person’s turn,” Mr Tiny told her. “But first I need to sample you. We need to know what price to set,” he grinned and started moving towards her. 

Emma was beyond panicked at this point. They were going to sell her body to men to have sex with? The thought of it made her sick to her stomach and cold out of fear. No, she couldn’t let that happen. She needed to do something, anything.

Emma could not let that vile human who was moving toward her rape her. He was revolting and cruel, and she hadn’t waited for the right man to have sex with for him to be her first. Something snapped in her and she picked up the bill counter from the table and hurled it at Mr Tiny.