Disclaimer: I own only my character.
It was early morning, the brisk air cut through the slats in the boarded up windows and the rising sun slowly crept in. As it made it's way higher in the sky and the rays shone farther into the room, they revealed the features of a young woman, lying motionless on the floor. She stirred slightly as the sun assaulted her lightly closed eyes and a frown on her lips caused a furrow on her forehead. She sat up slowly, grumbling slightly and running a hand through her dirty brown hair. She blinked against the harsh rays and allowed her eyes to adjust to the brightness.
"Shit," she murmured, rubbing her forehead with one hand while she propped herself up with the other.
She could only remember a few details that led her to be where she is now, the first thing was that Meredith was dead. She couldn't change that, but she felt the hot tears threatening to spill again. She had sobbed herself to sleep last night, mourning the loss of her friend, cursing the men who sold her that first hit. And then she cursed herself for ever getting involved, for lending her money, for refusing her anymore, for taking her in when she was evicted, for every single thing she had tried to do. That night will never leave her.
Callista walked from the living room, where she left Meredith, back to her bedroom to retrieve some more blankets. She planned on forcing her to go to the hospital, she would break her of this habit one way or another. She was just gathering up a pillow when she heard the sound of her door opening, quiet and slow.
"Dammit, Meredith," she whispered as she turned and headed back down the hall. She stopped just short of the living room when she heard a man talking in a low firm voice.
"Now Meri, where is the money you owe us?" he asked calmly.
"I, I, I told you… I don't have a-a-a-any," Meredith sobbed.
Callista heard the sound of a boot making contact with a body and the sound of Meredith gasping for breath.
"Meri, baby, I'm not asking you again. Where the FUCK is the money!" he repeated much louder this time.
Callista was frozen, she couldn't move, she stifled a whimper and stood with her back to the wall, eyes closed and her hand covering her mouth. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks and onto her collar bone, she had never felt so scared.
Meredith's gasps subsided to quiet sobs and finally just a trembling whimper. She heard the man walk a few steps and then return, "I've grown tired of this game, Meredith," he said solemnly.
A small pop sound came next, it sounded like a small pellet gun, but Callista knew it had to be some sort of silencer, she didn't dare look around the corner, but she did. She couldn't contain her scream when she saw the blood pouring out on the carpet and Meredith's lifeless eyes all glassy and far-off looking. The man's head snapped up and he saw her, a sick smile spread on his lips. She bolted as fast as she could down the hall and tried to slam the door shut, but he was right behind her and he hit the door with such force it knocked her into the dresser. Everything went black.
That was when she woke up here later that next day, and she remained in that small room with no contact from her captors, she only heard what went on through the door. Funny to think that something as simple as a few inches of wood could separate her from freedom. She stood tenderly on her feet, her left leg ached slightly from when she fell into the dresser, her head a nice gash on the side of it, she touched it lightly. The blood had dried and congealed, but it still throbbed when she stood, she braced herself against the wall and leaned against the door to listen.
"Shit, shit, you've got to be kidding me?" a man said hurriedly.
From the long pauses, Callista assumed he was on the phone.
"Ok, yes, ok," pause, "yes of course, that can be arranged," pause, "Charming? Are you sure?" pause, "If you think it's the safest bet, then I would have to agree. Yes, I'll get on it now," he finished.
She heard his phone snap shut and his foot falls came straight for her door, she back up a few feet as the door swung open. It revealed the man from her apartment, his gray crew cut and tattooed beck made him hard to forget.
"Come with me," he commanded.
Callista obeyed, not wanting to cause any more trouble for herself. She followed him through the small room and out into what appeared to be a barn, she looked down at her dirty tank top and pajama shorts that were not very covering. She had no shoes on and shivered at the crisp air outside. The man turned and looked at her, he seemed to almost pity her in a sadistic way. He tossed her a jacket.
"Wouldn't want you to be cold, Miss," he said casting a strange glance at her, it was almost sheepish.
She shuddered.
They got into his truck and drove for a mile or so and she saw a sign that read, "WELCOME TO CHARMING" she smirked, not quite so charming to her considering her situation. They pulled up to a cigar shop, it was still quite early and the streets were bare. She followed him inside.
A slightly more sturdy man in a suit glanced at her from what he was doing at the desk and smiled, "Why hello Miss Thomas, I've been hearing about you. My name is Ethan Zobelle, and I am the key to you getting out of this horrible mess,".
She cocked an eyebrow at him, she couldn't understand what he meant or how he could sound so calm when her life was at stake.
"All I need is for you to pay us back the money your friend owed us," he said matter-of-factly.
"But, how much did she owe?" Callista dared.
"Almost 15 grand, between lost bets and drugs and the money she would pocket when she would provide some company to my business partners," Zobelle said, taking a puff of his cigar.
"W-wh-what?!" Callista sputtered, "I don't have that,"
"That's too bad, I have no use for you. Get rid of her," He said turning around.
"WAIT!" she yelled, but the other man covered her mouth with his hand and grabbed her roughly. He pulled her out of the shop and shoved her back into the truck. As she glanced out the back windshield as the truck roared back down the quiet street, she caught the eye of the Sheriff. She gave him a pleading look before the truck made an abrupt right turn out of sight.