Dragged into Darkness
The walk home from work felt longer than usual.
Elena's heels clicked against the pavement as twilight folded over the city, painting it in dull shades of blue and orange. The streetlamps flickered on one by one, casting pools of artificial light that only made the shadows feel deeper. She hugged her coat tighter, even though the chill in the air wasn't what truly made her shiver.
Her mind was tangled in a web of impossible questions.
Where am I going to get that kind of money?
Is there even a way out of this?
Maybe I should leave... take Dad and disappear. Start fresh in another city...
But how? She barely earned enough to survive here. What made her think starting over somewhere else would be easier? Her father was still recovering from the heartbreak of losing his company. Uprooting him would only shatter what little stability they had left.
And then there was the other option. The folder still sitting on her side table. Alexander Knight's contract. A marriage. A year of her life. A cold deal inked with ambition and arrogance.
Her fingers twitched at the memory of his voice, his stare, the way he had calmly offered her a solution wrapped in chains.
She didn't want to sell herself. Not like that.
But tonight, her heart was heavy with dread. And as she turned the corner onto her street, her stomach dropped.
There were unfamiliar cars parked near her apartment. Three dark sedans, engines still humming. A group of rough-looking men stood outside her building, two of them smoking, the others talking low and sharp. The moment Elena approached, one of them glanced her way and nudged the others.
Her breath caught.
She picked up her pace.
The apartment door was slightly ajar.
She rushed up the steps, her heart pounding in her chest. As she reached her floor, the noise grew louder. Shouting. Furniture crashing. Something broke—glass, maybe.
Her front door swung open when she pushed.
What she saw froze her in place.
Her small, humble living room was in ruins. The lamp shattered. Cushions ripped apart. Papers scattered like leaves in a storm. And standing in the middle of the chaos—
"Uncle Roy?" Elena breathed.
He turned, flanked by four men, thugs dressed in leather jackets and harsh expressions. And behind them—her father. Slumped in a corner, trying to protect a framed photo of Elena's mother from being smashed.
"Uncle, what—what is this?!"
"There she is," Roy growled, pointing at her. "She's the one. She's gonna pay the debt."
Elena stepped back, disoriented. "What are you talking about? I told you—I don't have that kind of money!"
"She's lying," Roy said to the others. "She works for rich people. Designs fancy jewelry. She's holding out."
One of the thugs stepped forward. He had a deep scar running across his cheek and cold, dead eyes. He looked her up and down, a sneer curling at his lips.
"She'll sell for a good price," he muttered to Roy. "Clean. Young. Pretty. No marks."
Elena's breath hitched.
"What?"
Her uncle didn't even flinch. "Just take her. Once she's sold, you'll get your money. Just don't kill anyone."
"You're selling me?" she choked out.
"It's your father's fault we're here!" Roy shouted. "We trusted him! You owe us!"
"Are you insane?!"
Before she could turn and run, two of the men grabbed her arms.
"Let go of me!" she screamed, kicking and thrashing. "Dad!"
Her father tried to stand, his face pale with fury. "Get your hands off my daughter!"
He rushed toward them, fists raised despite his trembling legs.
One of the men spun around, a thick baton in his hand. With a brutal swing, he struck Elena's father in the neck.
"NO!" she screamed.
Her father crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
The world tilted.
Elena's body went numb, her mind collapsing under the horror unfolding in front of her.
"Dad?" she whispered, tears blurring her vision. "Dad—get up... please—"
The man with the scar leaned in close, his voice a harsh whisper. "You scream again, and we break something else."
They dragged her toward the door. Her knees scraped the floor as she fought back. She kicked, bit, clawed—but they were stronger.
One of them pulled out a rag soaked in something sharp and chemical-smelling.
She turned her head just as they tried to cover her mouth.
No... no! Not like this!
Her eyes locked on her father's still form, a thin line of blood running down his temple.
This couldn't be the end.
This couldn't be happening.
"Let me go!" she shrieked. "HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE—"
But the hall outside was empty.
The door slammed shut behind them.