RENAISSANCE

34. Be free

I found myself there, petrified, unable to move, as his words echoed in my head. No, no, no... this wasn't supposed to happen.

The two men wasted no time before seizing me, their actions brisk and determined, leaving no room for resistance. Their grip was firm, their hands imprisoning my arms with merciless strength, reminding me cruelly of my vulnerability.

"Leave her underwear on," Caleb ordered. "She's already sold."

As the men's hands closed around me, tearing me away from any possibility of escape, my eyes caught one last glimpse of the boss, leaving the room without a backward glance. His silhouette stood out with a cold indifference, as if my capture was a minor matter, a formality devoid of any importance.

"PLEASE NO, DON'T," I screamed, panicked.

I shouted, expending every ounce of energy in a desperate effort to free myself, my cries echoing off the cold and indifferent walls. My movements were frantic, a chaotic mix of fear and determination, but despite my struggle, it was futile. The grip around me only tightened, their holds strengthening with each attempt at resistance.

"STOP," I continued, but to no avail.

The mustached man, with a precision and coldness that sent shivers down my spine, attacked my coat, pulling it from my shoulders with an ease that betrayed a disturbing familiarity with such situations. The fabric slid to the floor in a movement that seemed to take with it a part of my dignity. This isn't the first time.

They continued their task, stripping me of my shoes, then my top and jeans, which contained the tracker in the back pocket. Each garment removed made me feel as if a part of my identity was being ripped away, leaving me increasingly exposed and vulnerable.

This isn't the first time, but this time, hold on for him.

After the storm, calm would return, and with it, the promise of a rebirth, of a new chapter in my life where the shadows of the past would be nothing but a distant echo.

Reduced to my underwear, each of the men held me firmly by an arm, guiding me through a long, dark corridor. The darkness seemed almost tangible, as if it sought to infiltrate me, to extinguish the last glimmers of hope that persisted despite everything. Their grips were relentless, their fingers squeezing with a force that allowed no room for rebellion.

I strove to keep my head held high, to maintain even a shred of dignity in this nightmarish situation. Each step echoed in the oppressive silence of the corridor, a funeral march towards an unknown destiny.

As we approached our destination, a massive door loomed before us, a silent sentinel marking the boundary between uncertainty and horror. With a brisk gesture, one of the men seized the handle and pushed the door, revealing a room plunged into darkness.The corridor stretched out before us, an endless passage that echoed with the sound of our footsteps, a lugubrious echo announcing my progress towards an unknown destiny. I could only imagine what awaited me, every possible scenario flashing through my mind with terrifying vividness. I wanted to hold on, but fear seeped into every fiber of my being.

At the end, we stopped at the slightly ajar door, from which white light filtered through. Voices reached us, and my heart beat fast.

"The last one is a Eurasian, medium-sized. Minor!" exclaimed a man.

"I'll take her," another said.

"Sold!"

The words chilled me to the bone, and the enthusiasm in that guy's voice made me want to vomit.

"Stop moving," the second man who held me ordered, probably because my body was trembling with fear - and cold.

"Ah! Look who's here," exclaimed a voice behind my back. A voice that was unfortunately all too familiar to me.