TRIGGER WARNINGS: sexual assaults, allusions to rape, violence
Chapter Four
Kairi doesn't know where it went wrong.
It might have begun when they first entered, ropes tied around the womens' wrists for the aesthetic of the ruse. They were told immediately that there was a magical barrier placed around the entire building. Apparently, many of the girls taken had magic—witches, they were called—and the barrier was put in place to keep them in line. That meant they were all on their own.
No Keyblades. No magic. No Fire spells, or Blizzard spells, or Thunder spells. Nothing.
The entryway was surprisingly extravagant for what Kairi had thought would be a dingy back-alley establishment. There were colors and marble flooring, Grecian pillars and luxurious silk tapestries and curtains. It smelt faintly of incense, and there were severely-dressed maids bustling about, placing trays of food and drink on several strategically-placed tables. It was still fairly early in the evening, so there were no customers yet. None of the girls were present, either.
What there were was burly, armored men in every possible corner of the connecting entry rooms, and a tall woman dressed in an expensive, corseted gown that looked like a queen's. She had a youthful face with few wrinkles, but was clearly older in age judging by the amount of grey that threaded through her impossibly long blonde hair. The woman was the buyer, who told Lea she was called The Matron, and she inspected Kairi, Aqua, and Namine thoroughly. It was almost invasive how thoroughly she searched them.
And then they rejected Aqua and Namine.
There was no explanation why. Just a curt nod in Kairi's direction, and the burly man grabbing her arm like a painful vice. She had gasped as he dragged her to his side. She had cast one last glance back at Lea, who was in the process of accepting a pouch of coins, and then she was through an ominous door at the back of the otherwise luxurious front room.
Kairi had then been whisked down a long marble hallway lined with a burgundy velvet carpet and expensive artwork. They'd rounded a few corners, descended a set of stone steps into a dark, dank basement level where there was another hallway. This hallway was lined with cell doors, complete with heavy wooden doors that had bars in the windows at the top. The burly man had dragged her inside, her slippers scraping across the dirt floor before throwing her to the ground.
She was beaten immediately.
Kairi had been blindsided by it, unable to gain purchase to get to her feet and fight back. The man had kicked her so many times that she lost count. Nowhere on her body had been spared bruising—not even her head. And then everything had gone black.
Now, as Kairi lays on the dirt floor of a pitch-dark room remembering the calculating look she'd last seen in Sora's eyes, she realizes that she's in way over her head. Her body aches in several places, with the sharpest pain being in her ribcage on the right side. Her dress and slippers are soiled with dirt. Her nose had bled, so there's dried blood on her face and chest. Her crimson hair is a disaster, the chignon half fallen and the curls that hung down tangled.
This hadn't gone as she'd hoped. She'd hoped they'd put her in a room with all of the other girls, so she could be told the rules. That way she could ask questions of the girls, to try and find out the leader's name.
She hadn't thought she'd be beaten and thrown into a cell.
Kairi manages to sit up after a little while. She grasps at her side, each breath she takes a struggle because of the pain. It doesn't feel broken, but it definitely seems to be bruised. She will definitely need a good Cura when she gets out of here, maybe even a Curaga. Depends on the caster. Namine's the best for that right now, given that Donald's not with them.
Hopefully this won't last much longer. She supposes she should probably feel more afraid, but she knows Lea will be back. He won't let her get trapped. Maybe he'll talk his way in.
When The Matron finally comes to talk to her, she'll do whatever it takes to get to where the other girls are.
As if on cue, there's a series of loud clanking noises as the door is unlocked. It swings open, and in walks three people: the burly man who'd dragged her in here, The Matron, and a middle-aged man dressed equally-fancily. The man has jet-black wavy hair and a set of unsettling green eyes, and his hands are positioned behind his back.
Kairi steels herself. Time to put her ability with words to good use.
"What is your name?" The Matron asks in a cold voice.
Kairi casts about in her mind for something fake. Something from someone she knows, but that none of these people would know. She needs to be quick on the uptake.
"Belle," she says in a voice that's threaded with feigned fear, saying the first one that comes to mind. "My name is Belle."
"She may keep her name," the man says. He has a snooty, rich baritone voice. The way his eyes scour Kairi's body is uncomfortable. Like he's inspecting a delicious meal.
"Yes, Duke."
Kairi takes note of the man's moniker—Duke. It may not be his real name, but it's clear he's the man they've been looking for. And it's been quite a while. Maybe it's almost time for Lea to come back in and ask for her "time."
The Matron leans down, grabbing Kairi's chin and turning her face this way and that. Her nails are long and they dig into Kairi's skin, sharp and piercing. She looks vaguely revolted as she studies Kairi's eyes.
"She has too much water in her spirit," The Matron says. "She will be disobedient."
"She will need to be taken to the Red Room first then," the Duke says, glancing down at his chest. He sweeps something away. Some sort of dirt or dust. Then his unsettling eyes fall upon Kairi again. "She can't take clients if she doesn't know how to follow the rules."
Kairi gulps.
The Red Room sounds like the exact opposite place she wants to be right now.
"I can follow the rules," she says, voice breathless. "Sir."
The Matron backhands Kairi across the face. It stings something fierce.
"First rule," the older woman snaps, "You don't speak to the Duke."
"Yes, ma'am."
Another slap. This one hurts worse. It makes Kairi's ears ring.
"Second rule: you call me Mistress."
"Yes, Mistress." Kairi holds a hand to her stinging cheek, pressing the other to her bruised ribs. "I apologize."
The Matron stands up straight. "Third rule. You do exactly as you're told, when you're told. No arguments. No questions. No refusal. When I give you an order, you will respond with nothing other than, 'yes, Mistress.' No exceptions."
"Yes, Mistress," Kairi says obediently.
"Fourth rule. You will take customers from nine-o-clock PM to four-o-clock the following morning. You will not decline anyone that purchases your time. Anything the customer asks for, you must provide. If we receive a customer complaint of any kind, you will be punished. If we receive customer praise, you will be rewarded. The price is taken care of before you are seen, so there should be no coins changing hands. At the end of the night, you will be dressed down and searched for trinkets and money. If you are found to have anything of the sort tucked away on your person, you will be punished."
"Yes, Mistress."
"What is your age?"
"Twenty-four."
"Twenty-four…?"
Kairi clears her throat, hoping that none of these rules will mean anything to her. Hoping she won't be here long enough for them to.
"Twenty-four, Mistress."
"Fifth rule. You will spend your days in the adults' quarters. Meals will be brought to your room. You will all eat together, and you will have twenty minutes to finish your meal. If you do not finish your meal by the time twenty minutes is up, you will not be given more time, and your dish will be taken from you. Sleep time is from four-thirty AM until noon, upon which you will awaken and wait for preparation time. That is when all girls must prepare to take customers."
"Yes, Mistress."
"The final and most important rule," The Matron says, "is—"
The Duke takes a step forward, cutting her sentence in half. His smile is almost sinister in the way it lays upon his face.
"If I purchase your time, you must be prepared to leave the building. I do not see whores in the establishment—they are taken with me by carriage to my chateau and kept for one fortnight."
Kairi starts to respond, but remembers the first rule. She keeps her mouth shut, choosing instead to give him a simple, demure nod.
At all costs, Kairi knows she must not go to that chateau.
"Stand up," the Duke orders. "Turn so that I may see you."
Kairi sucks in her breath, preparing for the pain. She struggles to her feet, wincing and trying not to cry out as she does so. Slowly and with care, she turns in a circle. She can feel the Duke's judgment like a disgusting caress.
"Bathe and prepare her, and then to the Red Room with her first," the Duke says, "In two hours, I will return for her."
Kairi's heart drops, plummeting like it's been thrown from a cliff.
The Matron raises one perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "Already?"
"I find myself unnaturally attracted to her," the Duke says. "I want her first. I have some business to attend to, so I will do that and return. And do try to leave some of that spirit intact. I want a challenge."
"Very well." The Matron snaps her fingers, gathering her skirts with one hand and going to the still-open door. She exits first, followed by the Duke.
The burly man stalks toward Kairi.
Kairi shrinks away on instinct, crying out when the man's large hand grabs her already-bruised bicep. Her feet trip and stumble on the hem of her dress as he drags her bodily after them. They follow the same path until a certain point, when Kairi is taken down a lefthand hallway, while they continue down the right. Kairi sees more artwork, more burgundy velvet carpeting, and countless doors. When they come to a stop in front of a door that's painted bright red, she realizes that she's in a situation.
There's no way they're gonna let her out of here when Lea comes back for her. Not when the Duke has laid claim to her. Her best hope is for the carriage to be absconded somewhere between the city and wherever his chateau is. Whatever happens in the Red Room…?
She has to survive it.
The Red Room is just that: red. The walls are a vibrant crimson, offsetting the burgundy carpets. The extravagant bed frame is made of dark mahogany wood and the bedding is all different shades of vermillion. The art—paintings and sculptures—are all red, too. Like the cell, there are no windows. The only light comes from a candle-lit chandelier that looks like it's dripping gold and rubies.
She's shoved inside and the man follows her in, turning to close and lock the door behind them. Kairi looks around her at the decor, clicking together puzzle pieces in her mind. The pit of dread in her stomach gets deeper by the second. This room is where bad things happen. Where bad things are going to happen to her.
"Looks like it's my lucky day," the burly man says. His accent is thick, with mistakes in his verbiage. By the simplicity of his garb, Kairi thinks he might be peasantry. "You and I are about to get very acquainted. I wonder how much I can get done in the next two hours…"
And then she hears the clinking of a belt.
Kairi fights.
She catches him by surprise when she leaps and spin-kicks him in the gut, the force causing a sharp pain to reverberate up her calf. He's big and muscular, so it winds him, but he manages to stay on his feet. No matter, because Kairi's already hefted the bedside table and thrown it at him. It hits him and sends him sprawling, a cut on his forehead that practically gushes blood. She makes a run for it, jumping over his body and making a dash for the door.
There's a growl, and then his meaty fingers are in her hair, curling. He yanks on it so hard that it's agony, and her eyes smart with tears. Kairi is hauled back against his chest, where she immediately begins to flail her arms this way and that, trying to reach back and hit him whichever way she can. Her adrenaline pounds in her ears, the only sounds in the room coming from their heavy, harsh breaths.
The heel of her palm catches him under the nose so ferociously that he howls, but he doesn't loosen his hold. His temper flares and with a snarl, he tosses her like a ragdoll. Her back hits the wall, as does the back of her skull. Stars explode like firecrackers in her vision and she lets out another cry of pain.
Kairi's vision goes from starry to blurry right as the man gets his hand around her throat. He squeezes and shakes her, throttling her and cutting off her air. She chokes, her mouth parted in its futile search for oxygen, and all she can see is a hazy bloom of colors. She kicks her feet, tries to pull him off of her, but it's no use.
She can't let him strangle her into unconsciousness. Under no circumstances can she let everything go black.
Curving her hand like the claws of a lion, she lashes out and drags her nails as hard as she can across his cheek. He lets out a sound of pain of his own and the moment of distraction gives her a chance to jab her knee upward. She hits him in the groin, causing him to scream like a little girl and double over. Clasping her hands together, she brings them down on the back of his head like a hammer, ignoring the way it hurts her bones to do so.
His knees hit the ground, and her feet hit the floor running. She makes it to the door with her heart racing, turning the lock and the doorknob. Kairi rips the door open and staggers out into the hall. Her head swims this way and that as dizziness takes over. Her skull throbs dully.
"And where does the lady think she's off to?"
Suddenly, she's greeted with a fist to the center of the face. It's a wonder it doesn't break her nose. Fresh blood does come leaking out of her nostrils, however, and her head snaps back so violently that she whimpers.
Her hair is once again used as a handhold, and she's forced back into the room by one of the other men she saw in the entry rooms. He kicks the door shut behind him. As he takes her to the center of the room, the bloody and bruised original guard lurches to the door and throws the lock again. Kairi's vision clears enough for her to see how enraged he is.
The second man throws her away from him. As she starts to tumble backward, her foot catches on the leg of the table she'd thrown at the first man. With a yelp, she falls backward and hits the floor hard enough to rip the breath from her lungs. She lies there, throat sore from the strangling and coughing, while the two men stand over her and discuss what to do with her.
Kairi can barely make out what they're saying. The ringing in her ears is so loud. Her ribs are screaming in pain. Her head is pounding. She's bleeding from her nose and her neck is going to bruise. All she knows is that she has to get up. Terra told her when he taught her how to fight to never let the enemy get her off of her feet. Once they get you on the ground, you're as good as dead.
She rolls over in a daze, clutching an arm around her middle and using her other hand to push herself up to her knees.
One of the men punches her again—this time in the side of the head. She sways to the side and is punched again, back to the middle. She's hit again and again. Her teeth connect, nearly biting through her tongue, and she tastes copper as it begins to bleed.
It is now, finally, that she regrets this plan.
Kairi hears more talking, faint and muffled through the noise in her ears, and one of the men leaves. The other just stares at her, not needing to do anything.
She's already collapsed.
Moments later, the man returns with The Matron, and Kairi realizes she's in serious trouble. She's confused, disoriented, and in trouble. Hands grab each arm, pulling her to her feet. Her legs are weak, but they're able to get her to the bed, where they once again bend her over it.
Panic explodes in Kairi's chest when she realizes there's no way she can fight off two of these men and The Matron. For lack of a better phrase—she's fucked. She freezes up completely when her dress is torn. It's all she can do to hold the front to her chest.
Her hearing abruptly returns, and she hears The Matron's cold directive as clear as crystal.
"Ten lashes should do it. After that, try again. If she fights, ten more."
There's no time to react before she hears a loud crack, and then feels an intense burning pain erupting along her spine. Something razor-sharp catches in her flesh and pulls, tearing skin. She screams, having never felt pain like this in her entire life.
The crack sounds again, followed by burning in her lower back, and another rip of her flesh. Another lash of what she now realizes is some sort of barbed whip. The cracks come again and again, until Kairi's voice breaks from how loud her screams are. Blood runs down her back in rivulets, like streams down the side of a mountain. Her body bathes in agony and she trembles from the strain of enduring it.
When the whipping ends, Kairi is pulled up by the hair, turned, and thrown back. The edge of the mattress hits her legs and her knees bend, causing her to fold onto the bed. Her back screams in protest as the fibers of the duvet grate against her open, fresh wounds and she arches her spine to get away from it.
This is a nightmare. It's the worst nightmare she could ever think of. None of this has gone the way they planned. She's already been through Hell, and all she's managed to get about the leader is that they call him the Duke. That's it. It's essentially nothing. She'd said she was prepared to do what it takes, but she hasn't even met the other girls. She doesn't know who she's enduring this for.
In the thick of it, she almost doesn't care.
Kairi doesn't care about any of it. Riku, Sora, Lea, Aqua, and Namine should storm the building, is what they should do. They should tear open the doors, find a way to disrupt the barrier, draw their Keyblades, and start cutting their way through any of the guards in their path. It's completely unrealistic, but she doesn't care. She just wants something to stop this from happening.
She regrets taking Riku's side that evening. If fire climbed these walls right this very second, she'd pray for the building to burn.
The mattress dips as one of the men climbs onto it behind her, and the second man grabs her knees to pull her legs apart. Simultaneously, the first man grabs her wrists and tries to get them off of her chest, where she has her forearms crossed to try and keep her torn dress up.
Kairi gets confused as she tries to fight from two different parts of her body. She kicks her legs and tries to buck her hips. She fights with all of her might to keep her arms crossed, until her bones feel like they're going to break. The men don't say anything, and neither does The Matron, who's standing there with her hands on her hips like Kairi's a child being disciplined. They're like Heartless, the way they spread their darkness with nary a word.
She'd give anything to have access to her Keyblade.
When she feels her arm muscles start to give out and the other man's hands bruising her hips and pinning them flat, she realizes that there's nothing to stop this. No one's coming. She's not strong enough on her own. She needs her Keyblade. Her magic. Her friends.
Sora.
Like a crumbling old castle, she breaks down. Tears flow to her eyes and start to fall as she bursts out sobbing.
Her arms are forced upward, where the man holds them down and leans all of his body weight on them to keep her immobile. She feels her sobs intensifying, her fear multiplying as the man between her legs pulls her dress down, exposing her strapless bra. She squeezes her eyes shut.
No one's ever seen this part of her. Nobody. She's never had a man on top of her, or between her legs. She's never done anything more than kiss one time, and now she's here, and this is happening. It's happening and there's nothing she can do. Nothing, nothing, nothing—
Her bra is ripped away from her body like it's made of paper, and she feels cool air against her bare skin.
She starts pleading. It kills her to do it, but she does.
"Please don't!" she wails. "Please, please stop. Please!"
"Ignore her," The Matron snaps. "And you, girl—shut your mouth."
Rough, grimy hands fondle her breasts and ragged nails slice into her skin, abusing her chest and causing her to squirm in pain. She screams again.
"Stop, stop, stop! Please! It hurts! Please—"
"Shut your fucking mouth!" the man between her thighs snarls, and then he slaps her across the already-aching face with an open hand. It sends droplets of her blood flying to the duvet and pillow, staining them.
Kairi gasps in anguish when he returns to her chest and pinches the peaks of her breasts hard. Harder. Harder still. She's never felt such pain. Her entire body writhes and twists, trying to escape it, and her screams are hoarse, punctuated by gut-wrenching sobs.
Knock, knock.
The Matron holds up a hand, and the man between her legs stops what he's doing, one hand on his belt and the other still gripping Kairi's breast painfully. The Matron goes to the door, turns the lock, and opens the door a crack. Kairi hears murmured words, and then The Matron speaks.
"Cease, men. The Duke will return in thirty minutes. She needs to be prepared."
The relief that Kairi feels causes a fresh wave of emotion to overcome her. Even though she's beaten, bruised, and her back is mutilated, she sends mental gratitude to the fates. She's pulled to her feet, where her body nearly collapses. She's held up and transferred to the hold of the first man. The second closes his trousers and belt—Kairi hears the sounds like a judge's gavel on her spirit.
Again, she's dragged. Dizzy. Blurry. In pain.
And then she's in another room, where she's thrown like trash to the carpeted floor. She lands on her stomach, and the fibers of the carpet scrape her bloody, wounded breasts. She moans and whines in pain, immediately rolling onto her side and curling up into a ball.
The man says gruffly, "Prepare her for the Duke. You have thirty minutes. If you are late, you will all be punished.
And then the door to this new room is closed and locked.