When Laura awoke she was in the dark, her arms cuffed behind her back. She could feel the lumpy damp mattress beneath her, set directly on the ground. The room was cool and dank and smelled of mildew with a strong overlay of chlorine bleach. Laura lay still as it dawned on her with some surprise she was still alive.
But where was she? And why? Clearly that Kramer bastard had set her up.
She tested her cuffs. They were tight against her wrists and made of metal. She pulled against them, trying to slip her hands through the holes. The cuffs only tightened, cutting into her skin. Laura moaned and tried to keep the terror threatening to engulf her at bay.
Slowly she struggled to sit up, not easy with her hands bound painfully behind her. She realized she was naked, save for the metal cutting into her wrists. She felt around on the mattress and the floor nearby, hoping against hope her clothing was there, but to no avail.
Don’t panic. Think. Think. There must be a way out of this. Where was she? Somewhere underground—perhaps someone’s basement.
She lay back down, dizzy from the after-effects of the drug. She had no way to gauge how much time had passed. She needed to pee and was thirsty, that much she knew.
Suddenly she heard a skittering sound—the sound of tiny claws against stone and she stiffened. Rats! Revulsion washed over her and she tried not to groan aloud. Maybe it was just a field mouse, harmless and already disappeared into its nest somewhere in the walls. The little animal was probably far more terrified of her than she of it.
Forcing herself to calm down, Laura sat up, consciously slowing her rapid breathing. As she leaned against the wall she felt it with her fingers. It was stone, dry and crumbly in parts. Someone’s basement, unfinished, unoccupied unless one counted rodents.
“Hello?” Laura ventured, her voice cracking hoarsely. Nothing. No response, not a sound. She lay back down, wondering what was going to happen to her. George would assume she’d taken the modeling contract. He’d probably tell Mr. Hampton she’d quit without notice and they would write her off with a shrug. She had a few friends she saw from time to time, but they were used to her working nights now, while they worked days. It could be weeks before anyone even realized she was missing.
Laura recalled how she’d assumed that bastard Kramer was taking a fatherly interest in her background, pretending to be sympathetic to her being alone in the city. In fact he’d just been feeling her out! If only she’d said she had a roommate and parents down the hall!
Maybe he’d have passed—found another girl suitable for whatever horrible plans he’d had in store for her.
How many other girls had succumbed to his ruse, showing up at that studio on Park Avenue just like she had, hopeful for the chance at a bright new future, only to be drugged and kidnapped?
Panic overwhelmed the girl as she lay in the dark, naked and bound. It rolled over her in waves as she squeezed her eyes tight and curled herself into a ball. Oh, someone help me, help me, help me.
But no one came. Not even the mouse.
~*~
There was a bright light shining in Laura’s face, pulling her from troubled dreams. Her body was stiff and cold and she shivered convulsively as she squinted her eyes open a crack. Someone was holding a flashlight on her—she couldn’t see the person in the shadows behind the light.
“Sit up,” a man’s voice issued from the darkness. Laura wanted to curl into a tighter ball, terrified and also humiliated to be naked in front of this stranger and unable to cover herself. The man prodded her leg none too gently with a booted toe. “I said sit up. When I give you a command, you obey.” It wasn’t the voice of either of the men who had drugged and kidnapped her. This voice was British, its tone clipped, almost military.
Laura struggled to obey, succeeding in getting herself upright, still squinting against the light shining relentlessly in her face. Her hair was in her eyes and tickling her nose. She shook her hair back as she drew her legs up protectively.
“I am to be called Sir. You are presently called Number Seven. As you progress in your training you will be assigned a lower number. With each new number come advantages and privileges previously denied to you. When you reach number one, you are ready for placement. Do you understand?”
Laura tried to see the man but the light blinded her. “Please,” she begged. “I’m very thirsty. I have to use the bathroom. I’m cold.” Laura gasped with surprise and pain as the man struck her face with the back of his hand. Tears sprang to her eyes and she choked back a terrified sob.
“No!” the man barked. “You don’t speak out of turn! You answer questions put to you. You ask nothing.” He paused and set the flashlight down between them, its light pointing up toward the ceiling, which was quite low, only a little higher than the man’s head. He was still in shadow but now she could see he had a full head of dark hair and a prominent hawked nose. He was dressed in dark clothing and he looked massive and strong.
“Now listen carefully. You are my property. You are less than a slave—you are worthless to me as you are now, completely untrained, spoiled, stupid and graceless. You will be become an object of value, with time and patience. If you survive, that is. That will be entirely up to you. Obey and learn, and move up in the ranks.
Disobey and behave with willful stupidity, and you remain here, naked and bound. Now I will repeat my earlier question.” He paused and then said, “Do you understand?”
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