Death's Door

Chapter 2...

She was falling... faster and further into the black hole, her body falling and falling, her screams long since silenced to a mere hoarse whisper.. the frightening impact as she reaches the bottom the only thing on her mind...

"Git up, ya fuckin' worthless piece of trash!" came the booming shout.

Her eyes snapped open, her body jolting to her real world. She scrambled to rise and kneel. Thick, rough fingers snapped through the cage, poking at her side.

"Looks like I finally took care of the blubber on your lard-ass, huh slut?" he spat, pinching her nipple hard.

She gasped, tears welling up in her sunken, now dull, blue eyes. She knew better than to scream or cry out. The lid of the cage opened and she felt his thick, beefy arm pulling her out.

Once on the floor, she wasn't even given a chance to move before he took ahold of her hair, dragging her to the side of the room. He roughly grasped her upper arm and threw her onto the scale.

"See, shithead? 105 pounds. I knew when I first brought ya here that you could lose that blubber and stop looking like such a fucking whale. And I knew that if I just didn't feed your worthless ass, your tits would stay the same size. You'll bring a good price, fucknut. If you can behave yourself and not be such a fucking whining cunt."

She barely heard him. He poked at her again a few times, making sure her ribs had indeed been brought near the surface, and slapped her ass hard. He grabbed her arm painfully tight, yanking her upwards until she was standing, then shoved her a few feet until she was in front of a mirror.

"Now look at you, ya fucking cunt. Ain't you a daisy?" he barked, slapping the back of her head.

Slowly she raised her eyes, seeing the ghost that looked back at her in the mirror. Her collar bone had jutted out, her shoulders boney, her ribs showing slightly. Her waist was barely there, her hips narrowed, her pelvic bone nearly poking through her skin. She lowered her eyes, not wanting to see the hideous starving creature that was haunting her reflection. He was right - no one would ever recognize her even if she did escape... worst of all... she didn't recognize herself... couldn't even remember her name.

The cruel, hard hand wrapped around the back of her neck and roughly guided her forward. Down three corridors and she was at the shower stall. Scalding hot water shot out at her, and she found herself clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

A fistful of powder was thrown at her, puffing out all over her body. He used only the harshest detergent on her formerly sensitive skin. He grabbed a scrub brush and started going over her body, the bristles scratching along her skin. He stopped suddenly, frowning.

"It's your lucky day, shithead. Looks like the brush is gonna make you redder than a Budweiser label. That won't be good, cuz them bidders is gonna think you're a bad one, and you won't get me money." and he grabbed a cloth, rubbing the soap into her skin. He pushed her back under the water, which had since gone cold.

Shampoo and conditioner were dumped on her head and roughly rubbed into her hair. It smelled good, but that was the only pleasure she had been allowed. A metal-link dog collar was snapped around her neck, and with a hard jerk, she followed him, almost falling over when he went the opposite direction from the room she had been kept in.

She passed rows and rows of prison cells, most of them containing some vicious-looking, scarred men who came up to the bars, shouting out at her, their arms threaded through the bars, grabbing at air as she was whisked past.

"Fuck off, shitheads!" he shouted at them, "she ain't your dessert, she's my payday!"

A few more turns and they were outside, surrounded by chain-link and barbed wire fences. A van was waiting, and after he opened the door, he shoved her in, making sure to kick her ass with his boot, sending her flying into the van's far interior wall. He roughly shoved a huge ballgag in her mouth, buckling the strap so tight it almost cut into her cheeks.

He snapped the collar to the metal bar that had been attached to the inside of a crate, and shoved her whole body in with it. He slammed the door of the crate and told her to shut up.

"You sit there, shut the fuck up, and if I catch you even breathing loud, I'll thump your fucking skull!" he shouted, slamming his fist down on the top of the crate.

He climbed back out and shut the door, leaving the trembling girl inside. Just as he turned to walk around the van, he noticed a car coming up the driveway. He saw the police markings and scrambled to push the button for the gate to open.

The police car pulled in, and he walked right up beside it, tipping his hat to the driver and passenger of the cruiser.

"Mornin' Officers, what can I do ya for?"

The Captian nodded slightly. "Hi Rusty. We're looking for a young woman. She disappeared about 50 miles west of Nashville, and we been lookin' and asking if anyone had seen her."

Rusty didn't even blink. "Ya reckon one of my inmates got 'er?"

The Captian shrugged. "Maybe. Keep an ear out if any of 'em talk about doing something with a young woman."

"Well the only one who came here recently is Kraemer, and he came nearly four weeks ago. When did you say this girl went missin'?"

This time the Lieutenant spoke up. "Her boss reported her missing four and a half weeks ago, said she left for work on her lunch hour and never came back."

Rusty nodded, trying to appear concerned. "Well I'll be sure to keep an ear out for any talk, but I doubt I'll have much luck - they's a noisy bunch in there, but they keep their yaps shut when the boss is nearby."

The Captain nodded. "Thanks, Rusty. Call if you hear anything."

With that, the police car pulled away and back out of the prison as quickly as it came, leaving Rusty to sigh with relief. He climbed behind the wheel of the van and pulled out, turning east towards the dog-fighting arena inside Hank Cassidy's barn. Tonight is payday, was his repeated thought.