Muffled cries woke Chloe from a painful unconsciousness, and she struggled to breathe. Panic started but she forced it down, realizing her head was covered with a burlap sack, and quickly slowed her breathing down. She felt herself rock and sway, and guessed she was on the floor of a moving vehicle. She could hear and feel others in there with her, and from the sounds, they were all girls of various ages. She struggled to move but felt ropes tightly binding her wrists and feet. She tried to remember what had happened, but it was very fuzzy. A very attractive older man had approached her in a club, bought her shots despite the fact that she was only seventeen, and gushed about how great she would be in theater and film. The pounding in her head told her he'd spiked her drinks. And with that thought, a new fear consumed her. Where was she being taken, and why? She tried to pull herself up so that she could sit against the side of the van, but suddenly it made a sharp turn, and she fell on top of another girl.
"Ouch!" the other girl cried.
"Sorry!" Chloe apologized, "Are you okay?"
"No!" the voice shot back. "Where are we? What's happening?"
"I don't know."
Another girl spoke up, "What are they going to do with us?"
Chloe shook her head quietly, deciding not to scare them any further. She didn't want to tell them the stories she'd heard. For the next few minutes, crying and mixed words of fear filled the van until they all felt it slow down and come to a stop. They all held their breaths, listening to movement outside, and screamed as the doors in the back of the van were pulled open. The heavy thud of thick boots from multiple figures stepped in, and the van creaked under the new weight as rough, cruel hands grabbed Chloe and pulled her violently up and over someone's broad shoulders.
She could hear the other girls crying and screaming, as well as struggling, with one pleading frantically to be let loose. A sharp shriek of agony, followed by a thud, made Chloe believe that the girl had been punched in the gut. Now, all she heard was labored breathing, and soft whimpers from the others. The message had been effective. She went limp in her captors arms to avoid the same fate and felt herself carried up metal steps as her captor's boots clanged against them. After what seemed like forever, she was tossed onto a dirty mattress, and her leg bindings were cut. The sack over her head was pulled away, and she blinked harshly against the dim light illuminating from a single overhead work bay light, with one of the four bulbs flickering from a bad ballast.
Looking around as her vision came back to her, she saw the other four girls seated similarly, their leg bindings all being cut free. Six men of various sizes, shapes, and ethnicity stood in a half-circle behind them, semi-automatic weapons at-the-ready and blank expressions on their stoic faces. Chloe gulped, trying to slow her breathing, when one of the men took up his weapon and pointed it at her.
"Stand. Now! All of you."
Shaking, Chloe did as she was told, pulled her medium-length brown hair back behind her so she could see clearly, and stumbled on the dirty mattress. A strong hand grabbed her shoulder to forcefully steady her. "Don't fucking move, bitch!"
The other girls joined her, side by side, and she got her first look at each of them. Shit, she thought, none of the girls looked to be over eighteen years old, and she deduced she may be the oldest, with the youngest having to be no more than thirteen, maybe fourteen. Her worry intensified as a groan from an old door announced the arrival of a tall, lanky African American male. This one was dressed far differently than the grunts. He was well-dressed in a maroon dress shirt under a black dress coat and rippled slacks, wearing a black top hat wrapped in a blood-red band. His boots were shin high, his laces slightly undone, and he carried a cane adorned at the top with the carved, severed head of a goat. Around his neck was a black-beaded necklace, a skull with a dagger stabbing through its head and out of its neck, hanging from it. He stepped to the front of the girls, eyeing them all in turn.
"Ah, our new arrivals, at last." He said his voice was almost melodious, yet tinged with vileness. "Welcome! Welcome!"
He looked at each of them, "My name is Samedi, and I will be your host for the next few days while we await the arrival of the rest of your friends."
One brave girl—or stupid as Chloe thought—spoke up, "What are you going to do with us!?"
Samedi gave the girl a wide, knowing smile, but his eyes were cold at the interruption. "You are to be delivered to various clients of my boss, for whatever they may want of you. You should consider it an honor, really. Some of you may even get to live full, rich lives with your new owners."
Samedi explained this as he stepped to the girl and lifted her chin to meet his gaze; his fingernails were long and sharp, and he nicked the girl's chin as he held her up for inspection. "But for that to happen, you will never speak up against me again, bitch!" Samedi struck the girl across the face with the back of his hand.
The blow knocked the girl onto the dirty mattress as she yelled in fear and pain. Samedi turned quickly, barking orders for the girl to be put back in place. One of the grunts hauled her up and pushed her back into the line, and Samedi spun back around. The facade of his smile dropped, "Now listen up! You will be locked up and given just enough to keep you alive. Forget all hope, because no one will find you, and you belong to Bible now!"
Turning to walk to the far end of the line of girls opposite Chloe, Samedi continued, "Bible is your God, The Word, and you will obey him. He will be selling you off to bidders to be their little toys, for whatever pleasures they wish to bestow upon your lovely little bodies."
He walked slowly, sizing each tearful girl up in turn, "The lives you knew are over. Accept it, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be the pet of someone who values your life. Not all do; some of you are going to be one-night toys. A shame really, as you are lovely specimens."
He reached Chloe and looked her up and down, "But do not try to escape. There is nowhere for you to run, and I will show no mercy to any of you. Your beauty means nothing to me." Samedi walked behind Chloe. She felt his fingernails graze along her neck, which sent shivers racing along her skin in disgust, and a tear slipped from her eye. Samedi's tone darkened, "Do you all understand me?" A collective murmur of agreement from the girls told Samedi his point was made, and he smiled cruelly, "Good. But just to make sure you do."
The children gasped, and Chloe saw one turn her head sharply away.
What happened? Chloe thought, Why does my neck feel so wet? Then she started choking as her mouth began to fill with the bitter taste of copper. She reached a hand up to her throat and felt wet heat, and her fingers probed mangled flesh. The touch brought with it searing pain and she felt hot liquid spill across her bottom lip. Losing control, she dropped to her knees and worried that she'd be punished for not standing. Painful gagging took over, and her eyesight became blurry as the light above her started to fade. Only then did she realize that Samedi had slit her throat wide open with his blade-like nails. Fear, pain, and hopelessness filled her soul as her blood and life spilled from her body until the darkness came forth to collect her, swallowing her light for the last time.
—
Watching Chloe's body spasm as she drowned in her own blood, Samedi sucked the finger he'd used to slice the girl's throat and enjoyed the fresh blood while listening to the cries from the other girls. Gorging in the feast of their terror, he sadistically looked their way, his charming smile back, "I'm sure you understand now. But just to make sure you never forget."
Lifting his necklace up and fondling the skull, Samedi uttered some words the girls could not understand. Seconds passed when Chloe's prone body started to sizzle. Boils and blisters blossomed over her face and neck as the girls watched in stunned, disbelieving silence. The girl they'd barely begun to know was cooked in front of them in an unseen magic fire. When the smell of burnt flesh wafted up and filled the room, Samedi stopped chanting and looked to the girls, "Obey, and you may be spared her fate."
Motioning to the guards to take the girls to the place of holding, Samedi stood silently as they were ushered out. Once the room was clear, Samedi pulled a small tablet from his pocket. With a couple of clicks of his nails, Samedi called up a video chat and waited for the other party to respond.
A moment later, the screen lit up to reveal a large, muscular figure that was shrouded by a bright light fixed behind him. Even as the light washed out his image, Samedi could tell he was chewing a cigar, like always, which identified the image as his boss, Bible.
"Report." Bible's thick, gravel-like voice was clipped with authority.
"The second shipment of girls arrived, adding four more to a total of eleven on premises, with a third shipment of three due in two days."
"Four? I was informed five were to be delivered tonight."
"I made an example," Samedi said without remorse.
"Fucking Christ, Samedi! I had buyers lined up for all of them!" Bible growled, "Your bloodlust just cost me five million dollars!"
"Fear is priceless. The girls will be more malleable. We're holed up in a very busy area. I will not risk discovery. The girls will spread the word about what they saw tonight."
"They better." The cigar's end brightens as Bible pulls from it: "I want that third shipment in on time. The barge will be ready in three days."
"They will be loaded and ready to travel by then." Samedi nods.
"Good. I want no more fuck-ups. I've already lost too much merchandise these last few months." Bible cursed. Someone had been saving girls from his henchmen across the Eastern border and damaging his credibility among his most loyal customers. Of the men he was able to recover, thanks to his connections in the FBI, he learned that they'd been frightened to death by what appeared to be a demon before waking up in cuffs in the back of cruisers. After he had finished with them, those men ought to have wished that a monster had killed them. Bible was never lenient. He was also not stupid. Whoever was stealing his product had game. Having Samedi as his right-hand voodoo priest, he was well aware of the supernatural and was curious who it was interfering with his business. That would wait for another time, as Bible needed this shipment now. Refocusing on Samedi, "And no more examples, or I will make one out of you."
With that threat issued, the screen cut out, signaling the end of the connection. Samedi's dropped his fake smile. He tapped his cane on the cold concrete floor, walking back over to Chloe's charred body, and cursed. How dare that overinflated, egoistical asshole threaten me? Without me, your syndicate is nothing. Yet, Bible had connections and power Samedi coveted. So for now, he would play the part of subordinate until he could discover a way to overthrow Bible. Kneeling beside the corpse, Samedi took out a blade from inside his coat and cut deep into Chloe's exposed leg, drawing a fresh swell of blood. Removing a vial from an inside pocket, he filled it to the top and returned the stopper to the lip, tucking the blood-filled tube back into the same pocket.
"You may be useful yet, my sweet." Samedi stood and gave the body a polite bow before walking out the door he'd come through.