Page 4 of Unhallowed

Shaking my head and trying not to think of it, I crane my neck to try to get a better view of the front, where the suited men who brought me here walked to, but then they come right back and sit behind me, their guns showing on a holster at their hips. They seem to be some kind of security.

“Are you looking for someone?” the man behind me asks as I turn my body to the side and out of the seat, looking toward the front of the plane. “Is there something you’d like to see?”

I gasp when I see a man with his penis out, and a girl putting it in her mouth. His pants suit is down to his ankles and his head is thrown back with his mouth wide open. “N-n-o.” He looks like power personified with his twinkling rings and suit, his dark hair neatly combed back. The man looks like he could be a politician, but surely I’m wrong.

“I guess if you’re as pure as they say, then you’ve never seen a cock before.”

Cock.

I almost scoff at the pureness jab, but I don’t, too entranced and disgusted to reply. Looking away, I right myself in my seat and lean my head back, closing my eyes. This plane is fancy as hell with its leather chairs and spacious interior, and the men in the front all have women between their legs. Worse is the fact that everyone in front of me is tied up. Their hands and feet. It’s no wonder they won’t look at each other.

“Guess she got tired of watching,” one of the men says, laughing at my expense. “Might as well take a break since she’s probably next in line for it.”

The man next to him laughs as well. “All of them are.”

I keep my eyes closed and breathe in and out slowly, trying to even my breaths, and eventually, I’m back in a dazed state. I don’t know if it’s what they gave me or if I’m just exhausted, but I guess I fall back asleep. Then, when I wake again the plane is landing.

The wheels bounce off the ground repeatedly, jolting my body in the seat, and when we stop, I almost puke again. The suited men behind me start getting up and out of their seats, moving toward the front of the plane. There’s hushed whispers coming from the girls in front of me. Most of them look like they’re around my age or older, and multiple men begin to carry them out of the plane like sacks of potatoes.

What the fuck is going on? Who are these people? Where are we going? Are they taking us to the same place? And why am I the only one not tied up?

“Your turn.” One of the suited men that was seated behind me announces, grabbing my arm. I don’t resist though. I’m already where they want me—and I have no idea where that is so it’s not like I can fight them.

They take me back down the steps of the airplane to a black limo where they stick me with all the other girls who are bound. For some reason they don’t dare look at one another or me; they don’t make one single sound. No one questions why I’m getting a little more special treatment than them, and I guess I should be grateful because I don’t want to be hated for something I can’t control.

The limousine takes off, and thankfully there are no men in here with us. It helps me breathe a little easier. I look out the window at the lush scenery. Wherever we are is really green and actually pretty. Not that I’ll get to appreciate it much, I’m sure. For all I know everything looks green because I haven’t seen trees in a decade, so nothing that impressive to anyone else I guess.

A while later we’re pulling up to a house, no, a castle. A fucking castle. This place is a damn mansion with turrets—who has turrets on a house? It doesn’t matter though because someone opens the door and I’m yanked out by my arm. I guess it sucked that I’ve been sitting nearest the door. I’m assuming the special treatment is over now. I don’t look back to see if the other girls are out or not, instead I continue to face forward and walk wherever I’m directed to—more like pulled to.

Anger floods my veins and I growl at him like a dog, a feral little creature. But he’s unphased, and it makes me want to stab him right in the gut, where I can reach. I look around and see his gun, making the itch to grab it strong. Maybe if I’m quick, if he doesn’t notice—

Do it.

No, don’t.

I giggle.

God wouldn’t like that.

You don’t give a fuck about God.

Fuck, okay.

I right myself and keep being dragged toward the entrance of the home. The house is enormous, but I don’t even have time to appreciate the pretty hardwood floors and traditional decor as I’m taken toward a hallway to an open door. Just as I’m about to be pushed through another door though, a familiar man comes out of the room.

White blond hair.

Striking blue eyes.

Straight nose.

Pouty lips.

Huge heart.

No.

I gasp and my hands begin to tremble, as does my lower lip. His eyes widen once they take me in and his lips part.

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