Burman red-light district.
Inside a luxurious, decadent bar, men and women of all skin tones swayed on the dance floor.
Deafening music blasted from the stage where several shirtless, muscular men wildly strummed guitars, radiating raw hormones. Under the cover of the music, the various moans, pleas, and sounds of struggle filtering down from the rooms upstairs seemed insignificant. Everything here pulsated with intense sexual tension.
Some patrons were even finding amusement right at the bar counter.
"Oh, god, d*mn it." Will threw down the rag he was holding, his face twisting with disgust. "How many times do I have to say it? If you're gonna do it, go upstairs." Saying this, Will started towards the couple who were already passionately entangled.
"Will," someone tapped his shoulder from behind. Will turned to see Jensen, a powerfully built black man, gesturing towards the back door. "Come take a look. Got something good."
"Something good?" Will raised an eyebrow, looking Jensen up and down. "Hey, didn't you learn your lesson after that community service? Thought you were done with that stuff, Jensen?"
"Course," Jensen frowned, leading Will through the back door to an area filled with iron cages. "It's 'cargo', Will."
"'Cargo'?" Will clearly hadn't guessed. Jensen walked up to a large wooden crate and kicked it hard.
"There."
The crate shifted. Something alive inside struggled against the lid, which bulged slightly before falling still again.
"Alive?!" Will was shocked, turning to Jensen. "What the h*ll did you catch?"
"Not an animal." Jensen lit a cigarette and stuck it between his lips, fishing a key from his pocket.
With a click, he unlocked the crate.
The lid flew open, revealing a pair of pitch-black eyes.
"A person?!"
Will recoiled at those terrifying eyes.
It was a person.
A small, thin figure curled inside the crate, clothes ragged, hair matted and wild. Bruises, blue and purple, marked their wrists, ankles, and cheeks. They were a picture of utter wretchedness, save for those jet-black eyes, wide open like a madman's, fixed intently on the two men.
"..." Will felt a chill under that gaze, involuntarily stepping back. "Jesus, what is this? Jensen, what kind of thing did you drag back?"
Jensen, cigarette dangling, stepped forward. He grabbed the figure's arm and hauled them out of the crate, giving them a shake before taking a drag. "It's a girl."
He pinched the girl's bruised cheek with his cigarette-holding fingers, examining her distinctly Asian features, black eyes, and black hair. "Hmm, Asian."
The girl hung limply in Jensen's grip as he manipulated her, staring straight ahead at him, showing no sign of resistance.
"She can't be more than fourteen, for god's sake," Will murmured, intimidated by those dark, unblinking eyes.
"F*ck god," Jensen spat, shaking the girl's arm roughly. "This kid's legal."
The girl swayed with the motion, utterly unresponsive. Will frowned. "Jensen, is she... all there?" He tapped his own temple.
Jensen bared his teeth in a dry chuckle. "Sane when we bought her. Whether she stays sane after the trip back... who knows."
Will shook his head and peered into the crate. The inside walls were covered in claw marks like a trapped animal's. Old newspapers littered the bottom, chewed to shreds.
"..." Will couldn't stomach it and looked away. "You bought her from the underground trade?"
"Mmm," Jensen grunted vaguely. "Turned eighteen this year. Story goes her dear old dad sold her to settle a debt."
"How much?"
"Ten thousand Euros. How much is a virgin worth anyway?"
The underground trade catered to the whims of the wealthy; ten thousand Euros was indeed small change for those who threw money around.
Jensen tossed the girl towards Will. "Get her cleaned up over at Melissa's. I'm counting on her to make me money."
"While you're at it, get the butterbeer ready, Will," Jensen called over his shoulder as he walked away. "You've been idle enough today."
"Always finding trouble," Will scoffed, hoisting the thin, frail girl onto his back.
The girl naturally rested her chin on Will's shoulder.
Feeling her fragile, almost imperceptible breath, Will gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath.
"F*cking insane."
...
Melissa was a terrifyingly efficient woman, the sole doctor for the bar. Though just a woman, her voice ensured no one dared cause trouble in her domain.
Will dumped Dixie on Melissa and barely had time to shut the door before bolting. Melissa's furious shouts, punctuated by sharp raps on her desk, echoed down the corridor.
"Tell Jensen to go to h*ll! Always dumping this crap on me!"
After yelling at Will's retreating back, Melissa slammed the iron door shut. She turned, scowling, to look at the "cargo" sprawled on the examination table.
The girl sat hunched over, legs dangling over the edge. Her gaze was fixed on the neon-lit window overlooking the garish street outside. Dirty, chopped hair fell over her eyes. Her bruised lips were pressed tightly together.
Swish. A medical chart was thrust upright in front of the girl's face, blocking her view. She paused, then slowly shifted her gaze along the chart to meet Melissa's steely grey eyes.
"Name?" Melissa asked, frowning slightly at the girl's eyes, the pupils dilating and contracting unnervingly like some wild animal's.
"..." Dixie pressed her lips together, staring straight into Melissa's eyes. Melissa stared back with unnerving patience.
After several suffocating minutes, Dixie's throat moved. She spoke slowly, her voice raspy like an old woman's. "Dixie."
Melissa poured her a glass of water.
Dixie's eyes instantly lit up. She snatched the cup, hunched over it like an animal, and brought her nose almost to the water's surface, sniffing intently.
After sniffing, she grabbed the cup, tipped her head back, and gulped greedily, choking slightly in the process.
"..." Melissa watched this behavior, her brow furrowed. After a moment of silence, she asked, "Age?"
"...18."
Dixie finished the water, coughing from the choking fit. She lowered her head, gaze fixed on her lap, clutching the empty cup against her lips, licking them longingly.
Melissa reached to take the cup back to refill it. The moment her fingers touched it, Dixie startled violently. Her lowered head snapped up, eyes fierce, baring her white teeth at Melissa.
A terrifying snarl ripped from her throat.
Melissa gasped, but years of medical experience kicked in. Her cold, steely eyes locked onto Dixie's without hesitation. "F*cking hell! Want water or not? Let go!"
"Listen here, you little sh*t! Let go!"
They stood locked in a standoff. Dixie's fingers gripping the cup began to spasm. Melissa glared back, unyielding.
After nearly five minutes, Melissa waited patiently for surrender. Finally, Dixie's strength seemed to drain away. She slowly slumped out of her terrifying, possessive state, hands dropping limply.
Melissa took the cup and refilled it, her heart pounding slightly.
F*cking hell.
This was going to be a difficult patient.
Dixie drank the second glass of water in the same desperate manner, then sat hunched on the table's edge, her gaze locking onto the tall Melissa through her dirty fringe.
Melissa's sharp eyes noted Dixie's posture and immediately sensed an injury around her waist.
"..." Melissa tossed her medical chart aside. The sharp clatter instantly drew Dixie's attention.
"Here, kid, look at me." Melissa raised her hands, palms out in a calming gesture. "I need to take your clothes off. You have to cooperate."
Dixie watched her, unmoving.
Melissa took a slow breath, lowering her brows, and cautiously reached for Dixie's collar.
Dixie flinched, pulling back slightly.
"Easy now, little one," Melissa said, forcing her voice into a soothing tone, watching Dixie's reaction as she continued reaching. "I need to see your wounds."
Dixie stared at the approaching hand, leaning back slightly, every muscle tensed, but at least she didn't retreat further.
Melissa finally grasped the fabric. Dixie's back arched, her whole body rigid. Her eyes blazed with fury. Melissa suspected that if she made one wrong move, the kid would leap up and tear out her throat.
That's precisely what Dixie tried to do. When Melissa pulled the shirt off and suddenly yanked against Dixie's injury, Dixie instantly erupted. Snarling, she lunged and sank her teeth into Melissa's arm.
Melissa had just managed to block her face with her forearm.
"!! F*cking hell!" Melissa yelled, trying to pry Dixie's jaw open, her face contorted with pain.
Melissa's sharp nails raked bloody lines across Dixie's face, but Dixie clung to her arm, unfazed. Melissa gave up trying to pry the jaw loose and slapped her free hand against a fixed intercom on the wall. "Jensen! Godd*mn it! Jensen?!"
Half a minute of chaotic struggle later, the iron door was kicked open with a bang. Jensen strode in, a frail, unconscious blond boy draped over his arm. He stubbed his cigarette out on the wall. The boy was covered in bruises, eyes tightly shut, face deathly pale, head lolling limply.
"Jensen! Look at the prize you brought back!" Melissa hissed through the pain, glaring furiously at Jensen. "Get this d*mn kid off me!"
"F*ck, always causing trouble."
Jensen narrowed his eyes, dumping the injured blond boy unceremoniously. He spat out smoke and walked over to the exam table. With one hand, he wrenched Dixie's jaw open.
"Cough...!"
Jensen shoved Dixie down onto the bed with one hand. She thrashed violently. Jensen cursed, his large hand clamping around her throat. Dixie's face immediately turned blue from lack of air. She struggled, gasping, clawing at Jensen's thick wrist.
"D*mn it! Stop! You're choking her!" Melissa, having settled the unconscious boy, turned back and saw the scene. She thrust the medical chart at Jensen, her voice sharp.
"F*ck, godd*mn it." Jensen swore again, releasing his grip with a disgusted flick. Dixie tumbled off the bed, coughing violently as she landed on her front.
Jensen grabbed her chin again, forcing her head back high. Dixie stumbled under the force.
"Kid. Gonna behave now?"
Jensen's face was dark, his eyes narrowed as he loomed over her, his muscular frame casting Dixie entirely in shadow. Matching the muscles was the terrifying strength in his hand, making Dixie's jawbones creak audibly.
Dixie's chest heaved. She bared her bloodied teeth in a savage snarl.
"Don't get near her, Jensen," Melissa warned sharply, holding up a syringe. Her arm wound was already bandaged. "This kid's not right in the head."
Spotting the needle, Dixie instantly became frantic. A low, meaningless growl rumbled in her throat as she fought desperately to break free from Jensen's grip.
"Hold her down!"
Jensen slammed Dixie face-first onto the bed, pinning her neck with his arm. He drove his knee into her struggling back. Ignoring her injuries, Dixie thrashed and snarled into the mattress.
Melissa yanked up the sleeve on her thin arm, exposing a vein, and unceremoniously injected a dose of tranquilizer.
Dixie's struggles gradually weakened until she finally went limp on the bed, her eyes closing.
"F*ck." Melissa exhaled wearily, tossing the syringe onto a nearby tray.
Jensen straightened up, flexing his wrist. He paused, noticing the deep purple bruising where Dixie had clawed him, his gaze hardening.
Melissa saw it too, slightly shocked. "That kid...?!"
"Some piece of work," Jensen remarked, flexing his stiff wrist and giving the figure on the bed a sidelong glance.
Melissa also took a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and exhaled a slow plume of smoke.
They stood in silence for a moment. Melissa looked down at the bite wound on her arm.
"...H*ll. Hope this kid's clean."
"Should be Clean."
"..." Melissa took a drag. Seeing Jensen head for the door, she tilted her head slightly. "Leaving already?"
"Mmm," Jensen tapped ash onto the tray. "Sherry's back."
"Oh."
Melissa raised her eyebrows.