He was taller than the others, had to be six foot five, and while he was dressed like the other guards, a hood didn’t hide his face.
But he was more terrifying—because he had a metal plate over his face covering everything below his eyes. There were slits in the metal so he could breathe, but when his harsh eyes were the only things on display, it was somehow more menacing than no face at all. He walked down the rows of tables, his heavy footfalls echoing against the soil like he was stepping across the hardwood floor of a quiet house.
Every woman was absolutely still, eyes down, as if any contact would make him choose them.
Bethany sat across from me, her eyes on the table too, like she didn’t want to watch the enormous man walk up and down the tables, selecting his next victim, even though my guard had told me they already knew who it was. Maybe because I knew that information, it made me less afraid to watch him, to see the most horrifying event of my entire life.
He kept moving, his eyes looking at every woman he passed, all of their chins down while the shakes made them shiver—and not from the cold.
My sister had been working like everyone else, so I doubted she was the victim, not when she was fresh…as they described us. I watched him move down my row, anxious for it to be over because he’d terrorized us for minutes now, acting like he could feel the palpable fear rising from each and every one of us.
Like he got off on it.
He moved farther down the row, his eyes moving left to right, glancing between the two tables.
I stared, watching him move, seeing the bulky muscles through his clothing, seeing a man who weighed more than an ox.
Bethany lifted her gaze and looked at me, her eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe I was openly staring at him. His back was to her, so she gave me a slight kick under the table, telling me to drop my gaze.
But I couldn’t.
He suddenly stopped, his head tilted, his wide and unblinking eyes focused on me. The stare lasted for hours, at least it felt that way, when it was only seconds. The women behind him turned to look at me, to watch him stare at me. He held his look, his eyes slowly widening into a maddening stare, as if he was waiting for me to back down first.
My entire body started to shake in terror, and I dropped my gaze.
Then he moved again, walking to a table farther away from us.
Bethany was shaking too, as if she feared she might be the next victim.
I lifted my gaze to watch him now that he was on the other side of the clearing.
He stopped behind a woman who was older than me, maybe in her forties.
She kept her chin down, but she started to shake uncontrollably as if she already knew her number had been called. Tears glistened in her eyes before she shut them tight, the moisture dripping from her lids and down her cheeks.
He grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her from the bench.
She screamed and screamed, her shouts of terror echoing across the clearing, burning hotter than the flames on the torches.
I dropped my gaze because I couldn’t watch this, couldn’t experience this, couldn’t handle what was about to happen. I closed my eyes and heaved in pain, tuning out the sounds, disassociating completely.
And just waited for it to be over.
I didn’t sleep that night.
I watched the sunrise through the crack under the door. My cabin was insulated because it had no windows, but I could hear the wind rustle the trees, hear the distant howl of the elements. It wouldn’t be a sunny and clear day like the last week.
It would be so fucking cold.
Footsteps sounded on the patio, and then the door unlocked.
I was already dressed, my boots on over my pants, my heavy jacket on in bed so it would warm up before I went outside into the cold. My hair was pulled back out of my eyes in a ponytail. I hadn’t even combed it because they gave me nothing. It was probably one of the things women asked for in exchange for obedience, because some of the women had nice hair, even wore makeup.
My guard stood there in the open doorway, watching me sitting on the bed.