Hello! So this story is rated M and if you don't like that stuff, don't read M rated fics. I will try to update this story regularly but no guarantees because school is starting up again soon and that usually takes up most of my time. I will post two chapters right now, but after that it is up to how the rest of the summer goes. Okay, anyway, enjoy!

Oh, and I don't own anything except for my OC, duh.

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Name: Novak, Charlie

DOT: Aug 2nd 1992

Sex: Female

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue/Grey

Height: 5'4''

Weight: 126 lbs.

Country of Origin: United States

Current City of Residence: London, England

That's what was written on a piece of paper that they handed me right as I entered an abandoned warehouse. Around fifty men were stationed along the walls, each holding their own AK74U submachine gun. They all held the same look in their eyes that screamed, "Move out of line and I won't hesitate to shoot you." I had never thought that people wearing black could be intimidating, but these people pulled the look off very well.

Thirteen other girls besides me where forced into a single filed line. In our hand was the paper that they gave us. It held all of our basic information on it: name, date of birth, height, etc. Our wrists were bound with handcuffs in front of our body. It made handing the piece of paper to another guard easier for everyone. Said guard was standing in front of a doorway, leading to other parts of the warehouse.

I am 12th girl in line; however, I was the oldest by far. Most of the girls seemed to be around 17 or 18, one girl looked to be only 15. They were all scared shitless by this point, having a good guess as to what might be coming there way soon. The youngest seemed the most terrified out of all of us. Her entire body shook more and more with every step she took.

Sure, I'm scared, but no terrified like they all are. They probably have the mentality that this is it for their life, it will either end here, or they will want it to end here. Having my life end in this nasty hole is not what I had in mind. I have survived so much over my 23 years that it would be a shame for me to just give up now. I have no intention on staying here, but I have every intention of escaping this wretched place.

As the line came to the man standing by the doorway collecting our papers, the fifteen year old fainted. No one attempted to catch her, so she hit the ground fast and hard. One of the guards ran from his post on the wall to the unconscious girl on the ground. He swung his gun around his shoulder and began to pick the girl up bridal style, probably to take her to get medical attention.

"Wait," said a different guard, this one leading our line "shoot her. She will be more trouble than she's worth."

The girls started squealing, putting their hand over their mouth in disgust as the first guard retrieved his gun again. He let her fall to the ground again. He stood straight up and fired one round into her head. The bullet landed directly in the center of her forehead.

At least this girl will not have to endure the tortures that will most likely take place here. She was awfully young compared to the rest of us. But then again, she was young; she could have had a bright future ahead of her, more than the rest of us.

Some of the girls are full out crying by this point, but we are forced to keep moving straight. The line slowly shrank down as the men lead the girls through the doorway, each girl going a different direction based on what was written on their paperwork. I'm guessing that we are separated based on our age and country of origin. I'm pretty sure that I am the only person that isn't from the UK who understands what the guards are saying. Over half of these girls are from Central America.

The line keeps moving forward. The main guard dealing with our paperwork abruptly halts my thoughts by ripping my paper out of my hands. He snarls at me as I apologize more out of habit than anything else. He looked up at me with disgust after reading what is written on it. "Fifthly American." He spat on my shoes. "Room 263," he grunted to a guard. That guard nodded and took my elbow, leading through the warehouse. The guard whom handled my paperwork slapped the back of my head as I moved away from him. I passed so many rooms and hallways that I felt like the warehouse itself is the size of four football fields combined. We finally started to slow our walking as we approached my designated room. I knew what room was mine before we came to a complete stop.

I could just feel something radiating off of it. I don't know what it is, but the feeling isn't nice.

The guard opens the door with a key and ushers me inside. The room is not nice at all. The floor is cold and dark made from cement with red stains decorating it. The room has walls to match. The wall to the left of the doorway has (presumably) a two-way mirror. The wall to the right of the doorway is sporting a metal ring, to which the guard is now attaching my handcuffs.

He sat me down so my back is against the wall and my face is towards the two-way mirror. My hands are bound over my head, something that will most likely annoy me in a short while.

"Get comfy sweetheart," the guard said as he let his right hand trail down my cheek. I just stared back at him, he chuckled before adding: "You know, I like you. You are by far the least annoying girl we have ever brought in here. You don't fight everything we do, and you don't squeal all of the time. God, some of the girls we bring in here are just non-stop with their whining, it's as if they resist being imprisoned. I couldn't help but smile as he spoke a line from my favorite movie franchise.

"Thor: The Dark World. Fandral said that to Volstagg as the prisoners tried to escape prison." Wow, I'm such a nerd.

His large smile filled the room, along with his laugh. "An American and a fangirl, we don't get too many of those around here. I'm impressed." He laughed again, if it wasn't for his Irish accent, he probably would have sounded like Tom Hiddleston.

"Thanks, just don't get too used to me. I'll be out of here before you know it." I muttered that to him softly, trying to save my voice and myself from being embarrassed again. I usually try to sensor my fangirling around people, but this just came out of nowhere. No more of it, I'm done.

He just smiled again before leaving the room and locking the door behind him. I'm finally alone, I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Being alone is the only time when I do my best thinking, but who knows how long I will be alone. I still don't have a single clue as to what I am doing here and who decided to take me.