Suddenly, the man on my right tightens his hold, his fingers digging into my bicep, and we stop.
I try to jerk away from the pain, twisting my body, but his grip only tightens further. I feel his thumb pressing into the muscle, grinding against bone.
I hear a door open.
"Lestnitsa," one of them says.
Stairs.
My stomach drops.
I move forward slowly, stretching out my foot, searching for the edge of the step, but I can't find it. I stretch farther forward, afraid I'm going to fall, but I feel nothing but empty space.
Then a hand shoves me from behind, and my foot lands wrong, catching the edge of a step. My ankle twists, and I'm falling, my bound hands useless to catch myself.
Pain explodes in my knees as they slam into the stairs.
But before I can tumble farther, pain shoots through my scalp as someone yanks me back.
A fist wrapped in my hair pulls me upward by the roots, causing the pain to radiate from my skull down my neck. I rise to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me.
Then I hear the men laugh.
"Tupaya suka," one of them mutters.
Dumb bitch.
My jaw clenches behind the gag, fury flooding through me despite the pain.
I want to gouge out his eyes, maybe break his nose with my forehead, anything to silence his fucking laughter, but all I can do is stand there, trembling, as they shove me forward again.
This time, I'm more careful.
I find the edge of each step before putting my weight down. We descend slowly, the air growing colder with each step. The lemon smell fades, replaced by concrete and the faint metallic scent of old pipes.
We're heading down to a basement.
We reach the bottom, and the floor beneath me is hard. I'm dragged down a hallway, the sound of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. We take a right, then a left.
Then we stop.
A door creaks open, and I'm shoved inside.
The temperature drops immediately, and goosebumps prickle across my arms. I can feel the chill seeping through my shirt. I can't tell if it's actually colder in here now or if I'm just starting to get more anxious. It's that chilly feeling when fear starts to work its way into your mind.
I hear footsteps around me. Then a voice, low and cold, speaks directly into my right ear.
"Poprobuy chto-nibud', i ya tebya ub'yu."
Try anything, and I'll kill you.
I flinch, my body jerking away from the sound and his threat.
Hands then grip mine, and I feel the tension break as something sharp slices through the zip ties around my wrists. For a single, fleeting second, my hands are free.
But before I can do anything, swing, grab, fight, I'm spun around and slammed backward into a wall.
My back collides with the concrete, knocking the air from my lungs. I can't breathe. My nose works hard, trying to suck in air, but the gag and the impact have stolen everything.
