Page 31 of The Devil of Hollywood

Drip… Drip

Like a mantra, water splashed against the ground not inches from the cot I was resting on. I swayed at the vertigo, nearly falling back down through the unbalance and pain. Nausea hit hard. I leaned back against the stone behind me, using it to hold me up. Again, my eyes rolled. I even passed out for the smallest moment again before the water drew me back to the room. Back to the pain and terror that left me shaking.

What was happening?

Where was I?

I scanned the dim surroundings, taking in the hanging light that rested high above. It was either so high barely any light reached ground level, or it was so dim that it only appeared higher. I couldn’t tell with my distorted vision. I couldn’t see straight. I could barely breathe in the musty room. It was cold and damp, leaving me shaking even more in the cream slip dress I was suddenly wearing… Or was that realization seeping into my bones?

I was in trouble. I didn’t need a clear mind to know that. I was not okay. The man took me. He shot me in the neck with something. And the masked man. He was there. The one Penny had been terrified of. Had they been working together? Hadn’t we been running away from the man?

Intense pain throbbed behind my eyes. I gagged, feeling the excruciating ache in my head increase. Should I call out for help? Would anyone come if I did? No… I couldn’t bring attention to being awake. I couldn’t bring on my fate too soon. I wasn’t sure what I faced. I had to think. To figure out some sort of plan.

Stupid. There was no plan. I was taken. If this was the same man who took Penny before, my fate would be no different than hers. I’d be a captive. He’d torture me.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, using almost all my strength to move to the edge of the cot. Every small creak of the metal legs had me curling in my shoulders even more. The water stayed in a steady drip, and I couldn’t mute out how loud it suddenly sounded in my fear.

Drip.

Drip.

Tears came, blinding me as I eased to stand on unsteady legs. To step forward was nearly impossible. It had nothing to do with my strength. The room wasn’t large, but the shadows suddenly promised danger. I was in trouble. I was in so much trouble, and I knew how dark this world could go. My small time in the Jane Doe Foundation showed me that, but I’d barely brushed the surface on training back then. This wasn’t the same. There was no fellow sister or Madame coming to save my ass if I got in too deep. This wasn’t me trying to become some undercover savior to other women. These people could kill me. I had to get out of here.

Another step.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away, freezing through the uncertainty that was suddenly… my mind. It was ridiculous to think they’d hear me wipe away the wetness, but what if they did? What if they came because of it?

The newfound anxieties only had another tear following. And more. A sob pushed through, and I held in as much of the cries as I could as my shoulders shook. I forced my arm up, wiping my face and braving another step forward. I was a shark. I was not a mouse. I was a shark.

Another step.

And another.

The looping bravery ended as I took in the door. Above it rested what looked like the symbol of an upside-down crown. A heavy metal grinding had me jumping and stumbling back. A door?

I raced to the far end of the room, burying myself in the shadows as footsteps registered. With each step, they grew louder. My breath held as I waited. Pressing my back into stone, I curled into myself, facing more towards the damp hardness, turning my face towards it as my fingers reached past my bicep to dig into the rock. With as much strength as I used to push my back into something stable, I didn’t feel grounded. I felt like I was going to fall through. I prayed I would. Anything to get me out of this room.

My breaths became shallow. Metal jingled outside my door, and I took fast steps to the corner, wedging myself in. I could try to fight this way. I could protect myself. Yes. I could protect myself. I was so wrapped in fear that I wasn’t thinking correctly. I’d been trained for this outside of the Janes. All my life. Trained. Think. Think!

A lock clicked and the door pushed open. A man with brown hair and pale skin wearing a dark navy colored uniform paused as he looked around, stopping right on me. The British accent left me momentarily disoriented. I’d been in Miami… Was I back home?

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Follow me, and you won’t get hurt.”

At my confusion, his hand shot up in annoyance.

“Move your ass. I don’t have all day.” A pause. “Don’t make me come over there.”

My eyes lowered to the floor, taking peeks up as I pushed from the wall. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure I’d be sick. My entire body felt like a tuning fork as I continued forward. I may not get a chance like this again. I wasn’t tied up. I wasn’t being held. This… man was letting me out of the door. But… uniform? The button-up shirt and the slacks reminded me of a prison guard or jailer. He wasn’t the one that had taken me…

Curiosity battled survival but didn’t last as I approached the opened barrier. The man stepped in behind, gesturing for me to walk down the long torch-lit hall. All I could manage was an abrupt stop. The scene looked like it had been plucked from a horror novel or some medieval story. Hay was propped in the corner, off to the side, and doors aligned the area for as far as I could see reminding me of stables.

“Where am I?”

Nothing. The man gave me a push, sending me stumbling a few steps forward. As I approached the door next to mine, I couldn’t help but call out.

“Penny? Penny, are you in there?”

“Quiet it down and keep moving.”