I yanked on the chains to try and free my wrists. The metal bites into my skin. As the fog clears, the sting reminds me I needed to get free before the fog overtakes me again. I heard a whimper from the darkness. I freeze. It never occurred to me I might not be alone.
Too terrified to chance being too loud, I barely whispered, “Who’s there?” When another whimper echoes, I try a little louder. “Who’s there?”
Seconds later, my heart sinks as another whimper sounds from a different direction. A wavering, agonized voice floats across the black.
“Please whisper so they don’t hear you.” She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe seventeen. Her gut-wrenching fear vibrates in my bones.
I need to regain some sense of reality. “This can’t be happening. This shit only happens in movies, right? This has to be some fucked up joke or game. No way could this actually be happening.” I tug at the restraints, harder this time. I cry out when the chains rip at the raw skin on my wrists.
Small sobs break out from the same direction as the tiny voice.
“Don’t cry and they won’t hurt you too bad.” Another voice. From a different part of the room.
The panic must be setting in. Multiple voices? This couldn’t be real. “How many?” I asked, terrified to know the answer.
Another voice spoke up, cracking, like she hadn’t had water in days. “Five of us. There used to be more, but they came and took some away. They never came back,” she croaked, and then coughed.
My heart stops with the knowledge I am not alone. There are more people here, captured and trapped. What was this? I can’t wrap my head around what is happening. The fear they must have felt. I’d only been here for maybe hours. I can’t imagine days or even longer.
Unsure what to do, I decide to keep them talking to find out more information, figure out what is going on, and how I can get us out. “What are your names? How did we all get here?” My mind runs through questions faster than I could possibly form them. “What’s going to happen to us?” Panic nearly chokes me. I needed to breathe to keep a level head. “We have to get out!”
“Lower your voice!” One of the girls says, her tone adamant yet still mixed with fear. “My name is Leah, and they can’t hear you if you whisper. Please whisper so they won’t come down here. What is your name?”
Uncertain if I should tell her because of my family’s dark past, I take a steadying breath. “Jules. My name is Jules.” I suck in deep breaths, trying to focus on anything else.
“My name is Grace,” came the small voice from my left. Maybe the direction where I heard the first whimper?
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Trying to figure out where each voice comes from is too hard. I can’t pinpoint anything in the darkness.
There is a beat of silence before another voice echoes from the back of the room. Whispering, yet it seems so loud at the same time. “I’m Storm. I’m twenty-one.”
“What happened to you?” I ask, knowing I need to keep them talking.
“I go to SU. I was headed to my dorm room from a late-night study session when my phone vibrated. I was reading a text message, so I wasn’t paying attention when a van pulled up and arms grabbed me. Then I felt a sting in my arm, and everything went dark. I woke up here, chained to the floor.”
A sniffle breaks the silence and tears sting my eyes in response. I push them back, swiping my free hand across my eyes.
Yet another voice breaks through. At this point, I can’t tell from which part of the room. “My name is Faith, and I was out with my best friends. We were at a party with some of our friends from another college. This guy asked me to dance and grabbed me a drink. We were dancing, having a great time, and everything was fine until the room started to spin. I asked him to help me find my friends and he started to lead me outside. I thought he was trying to help me, when his buddy came up to us. Everything went fuzzy, my head started spinning more, and I think I may have fainted.”
“Do you remember anything else? Maybe a voice? Anything that could help?”
“I’m sorry.” A sob threatens to rip from her throat. “The last thing I heard, one said I was beautiful enough to catch a good price at auction.” Her voice was barely audible as it shook with fear.
How long had they been here? Had they already given up hope? My stomach rolled. My heart stopped completely as their words echoed in my skull. Price. She said price. The whole picture suddenly slammed into focus. She was “beautiful enough to catch a good price”.
“Trafficking! Holy shit! They’re selling women!” I said it a little too loudly.
“Please, be quiet. I’m begging you.” Storm whimpered.
“We know. They come down and take us up for photos,” one girl said with a tremble in her voice.
Quickly I asked, “How old are you, Faith?”
“Twenty-one” she replied.
“What about you, Grace? What happened to you? And Leah, how about you?” There had to be a rhyme or reason as to why this would happen. Who would do something this horrible?
Leah was the first to reply. “I just turned twenty. I was on a run, getting ready for a marathon in about a month. I was on the trail and a turn was coming up. I rounded the corner, then I was grabbed, and a cloth of some kind
