Page 13 of Burning Souls

The guys are all going as some sort of masked man.

The thought of them all in masks has my breath hitching and my legs rubbing together from the hotness of my thoughts.

“I investigated what you asked, but nothing came up. Are you sure he’s alive or didn’t change his name?” Sean walks in front of me, giving me the information I figured he would find. I asked him to look up something for me as a secret, but it wasn't successful. I wasn’t confident it would be, but I wanted to check any leads I had. So far, every lead or piece of information has done nothing and never led me any closer to what I’m looking for.

I should stay here and help them set up. It's only fair, but I’m itching to look up more information. I set myself a task and intend to finish it, no matter the consequences I’m given.

Hours later,I’m sitting on the couch blasting music on the TV. Paper covers the floor and the other half of the couch. I use Jessie's old laptop on my knee as I search for my father’s name.

Mark Anderson, my father, the man who sacrificed my mother’s life and left for a business trip but never made it back. He abandoned his children, leaving me to look after them until I couldn't and had no other choice but to try and leave. Try being vague.

I look at my siblings fast asleep in my bed after having the best Halloween.

“I’m sorry, Ash loves you, but it's too hard for me,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

Closing my bedroom door slowly and as quietly as possible so the hinges don't wake them up, I grab the bag over my shoulder and make my way downstairs into the kitchen. I do one last check of my bag, grabbing some food to keep me going. I can feel someone is here before I can turn around to check.

A cloth is over my mouth, taking me hostage. A firm pair of hands grabs me as my eyes gradually close. I’m taken to the pits of darkness…

The sound of two men speaking makes my eyes slowly open but my vision is still blurry.

My heart beats hard, I’m scared it might pop out,

I’m woken by the breeze of coldness on my body, my eyes heavy and hard to open. I can hear people talking. My first sense to kick in is smell. I wish it wasn’t, but essentially, all I can smell is dampness and strong Men’s aftershave. It's a musky, spiced smell making my nostrils flare.

“Fuck man, she wasn’t meant to get hurt.”

“I’m aware, but she wouldn’t stop fighting, so knocking her out was the only option.”

“Where’s the patient?” A rough voice brings me back to life. My eyes shoot open as a man wearing a white jacket opens a bag, draws a needle, and fills it with a clear liquid.

My fear of needles kicks in as the tip of the needle is placed in my arm. I want to scream and kick. Anything but my body is unable to move, not because I’m in shackles on a table, but because what would screaming do? Nothing, it would have zero difference to what is about to happen. I wish I believed I could get out of whatever shit this is but I’m here and something tells me if I want to leave, it won’t be as the same unconcern person who was just trying to finish school. No, instead, I will be a monster.

I’m scared. So scared.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, no matter how much I want to scream stop, I’m frozen. My mouth closes as my body relaxes. I can either fight this or I can get it finished.

The sharpness of the needle is inserted into my arm. My eyes are weak, my brain goes silent as my eyes close, and I’m taken to the pits of darkness. Again.

What I can only imagine is hours, days, or maybe even weekslater.

I’m hooked up to an IV but not on a hospital bed and not in a hospital. Two men stand beside me, guns in their hands, and each one has a taser. Fuck.

I try to move, but my hands and legs are held hostage to the table. The very cold table; they couldn't get me a blanket?

I don't need to ask what’s going to happen. I'm going to be forced to do whatever they want.

I’m just a girl. We have no control over what we do, but men do what they want.

Keep your mouth shut and be a good girl, Ash. It will end quicker, I tell myself.

“W-WHAT is going on? Why am I here? Please help me. I need help,” I try to scream with a shaky voice, but I can hardly get my words out. My mouth and jaw feel like I have been to the dentist and had some teeth pulled, and now I'm waiting for the medicine to wear off. One man turns around, looking at the other; they both stand on either side of me. They each roll their eyes. Rude.

So much for keeping my mouth shut.

“Look who’s awake.” A man's voice is vague as I'm still adjusting. Their eyes follow their conversation. I'm too weak and tired to take any of the information in, and I'm sure they wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk about information that's not for me.

“I’m aware. We wouldn’t be in this room if you had just done what you were told.”

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