Urban JungleBy: Brenli
… That's it. Wake up before they wake you up, themselves. You won't like it.
Hey! You best shut your damn mouth so I can tell you what you need to know! The shackles, they sure hurt, don't they? Well, you better count yourself lucky, because when I was in that chair, the shackles were different. They were tighter.
Now you listen, and you listen well. You're gonna have to remember everything that I tell you if you want out of here forever. 'Course, I make no guarantees, but if you're smart – and you better be smart because that's the only way you're gonna make it out of here – you'll remember what I tell you, and you won't make the same mistakes I did.
If my memory hasn't gone all rusty, it was quite a while ago that I was in that chair you're shackled to, right now. Many months. Maybe a year? And as I said, the shackles were tighter. I was dizzy and I was blindfolded, and there was the telltale stiffness of scabbing all over my head.
First error: Crying for help. Don't be an idiot. You know the bimbos in the horror movies that just start wailing, as if that will conjure up a superhero who will surely save the day? Yeah, no. Sorry. It doesn't work for them and it won't work for you. It didn't work for me.
But in the moment, all beat up and shackled to a cold metal chair... Yeah. I did it. Tears sprang out of my eyes and got my blindfold all wet. I called out for help. I tried very hard to remember what got me into this mess, but I suspect that getting my head knocked around made me forgetful. Even now, the physical circumstances before being knocked out are hazy. I remember the where and some of the what, but not the why, the how... none of that. I remember cigarettes and cheap wine. My lover putting on an old vinyl record. Led Zeppelin... Stairway to Heaven. Sex in a cruddy hotel room. But that's it; that's all I remember.
I sat in the chair you're in now, sobbing and crying, for only a short time. Being a loud and obnoxious idiot got their attention, you see... two voices. Two men in the middle of an argument. One of the voices belonged to my lover.
“This is bullshit!” I remember him swearing.
Second error: Saying his name. You don't want them to know what you know. You want them to think your head is completely empty of the things pertaining to them. Hell, you'd do good to make them think you're an airhead.
But I said his name. Bobby Fern. More accurately, I moaned it out loud. I wanted him to take me back to that cruddy hotel room.
“Hmm, I wonder what else she knows about you?” The second voice asked. Very gravelly and low. He's the Boss, just so you know. He's not to be messed with. At all. You give him everything he wants, even when he doesn't ask for it.
That was exactly what my lover wasn't doing. He was being mighty surly, and I could hear the pout on his lips. “Look man, just let me have this one. You have, what? Twelve?”
“Oh, I let you have her, already. It's my turn.”
At this point, I'm sure you're thinking what I was thinking. Honestly, I wish they'd done that, instead. I'm serious. At least, when it comes to rape, you can allow yourself to space out. You can endure it, and then be on your way. I will be hoping you are that lucky, but I doubt you'll be so blessed.
I heard a door creaking loudly as it swung open, and then crashed against the wall. I could just barely see through my tears and my blindfold – a rectangle of light, and two dark forms. One advanced on me, and I screamed so loud my blood was curdling in my veins. Remember, though, that this was my first error. I was shackled to a chair and the man who was not my lover had some kind of horrible plan for me, and was in the same room. Screaming was pointless for me, just like it will be pointless for you.
“Shut the Hell up!” My lover's voice snapped at me, and finally I was stunned to silence. Bobby Fern. Some superhero he turned out to be.
At last, the blindfold was slipped off of my head, and I blinked the tears out of my eyes in an attempt to see these two men. My lover, or my not-so-lover, was still by the door, arms crossed over his gray shirt. He was trash next to the man directly in front of me. Tan. Broad-shouldered. Black hair, slicked back with too much hair gel. Three giant gold rings. Very Italian Mafia, but I doubt he works for them. I don't believe the Mafia are quite so twisted, but hey, what do I know? I've only been tied up with rope in a dark room for many months.
The man with the gold rings grinned. I saw three gold teeth, and I smelled strong liquor. “Hah! Red hair, green eyes, freckles. A regular ginger kid! That's what I'll call you, if you stay with me. I'll call you Ginger.”
I remember stuttering the name, only to be struck by him. He didn't bother to tell me not to speak. The hit alone did the trick. So I sat there, slouching down in that cold metal chair that you're sitting in now, crying quietly. Figuring that I was going to be raped.
Then he brought out the knife, and I was back to screaming. Loud and completely pointless.
If you find yourself at this point, all I can say is... good luck. You'll need every bit of it when he starts slashing at you, because he's doing it for a reason.
I remember wailing in pain as he cut gashes into my arms and legs. He didn't even flinch. Bobby did. There was a sadness in his eyes, and suddenly I wasn't sure if he was my not-so-lover. Maybe he was still my lover. Maybe he was as trapped in this as I was. I called out to him again. Pointless, pointless.
“Aw, that's so sweet.” The man with the gold rings merely laughed. “Now then, I'll let you bleed out a bit. You!” He snapped at Bobby, and handed him the bloody knife, “You know what to do.”
Bobby gave me another sad look before he left, and the man with the gold rings went right along with his business. He pulled out my purse and removed my wallet, and then the debit card inside of it. He waved it at me, his beady eyes glinting. “Ginger, I'm going to be your Boss if you refuse to do this, or if you fail in this.”
I said nothing.
He seemed to approve of this. “Oh, I hope you refuse. You learn much faster than the others!” Again, he waved my debit card at me. “Ginger, this little card of yours could buy a chance to reacquire your freedom... or you can refuse, and stay with me. Which do you choose?”
I only barely managed to squeak out for freedom.
The Boss frowned and muttered. “It's your funeral, Ginger...” He sighed as he took out a piece of paper and a pen. “Give me your PIN.” Before I could speak, his hand reached up to grip hard onto my neck, lightning quick. “And don't even think about lying to me! I'm running this through before I unlock you!”
The Boss had read my mind. I could only cry and choke out the numbers. He released my neck to jot down the numbers, and then his fingers were locked around my throat again.
“If you still lied, your life ends right here. Right in this chair.” And then he turned on his heel and left me.
Third error: Choosing that moment to try and wrestle out of the shackles. They'd left the door open, with the light shining through it. That can only mean one thing... They're confident enough that they can catch you if you tried to escape, now.
But I was desperate and foolish, and tried in vain to wrestle out of those shackles. As if I even had a chance. I ended up knocking the chair onto its side. I ended up smearing blood from my gashes on the cold floor. That was as far as I got before the Boss returned, and he only laughed. “Ginger, I appreciate your eagerness for the game, but you've started too early!” He whistled and called out for Bobby Fern to... bring them in.
My lover stumbled into the room with the bloody knife in one hand, and seven leashes in the other. He was bringing in dogs. Mostly pit bulls and rottweilers, as gangs usually have. A couple of german shepherds, too. All of them big... and growling.
“Can I say something to the b***h before we do this?” Bobby snapped, and when the Boss carelessly nodded, he knelt down and whispered one word to me. “Stairway.”
I didn't have the time to ask what that meant, and even if I had, I probably would've been struck across my face for speaking without permission. The Boss was behind me, unlocking my shackles, while Bobby dutifully let all the dogs sniff at the bloody knife with a frown.
My feet were pounding against the cold floor before the lights in the hall were shut off. I heard two words from the Boss. “Sic 'er!”
This was the game I had to play in order to try and win my freedom. It's the game the others have played, and it's the game you'll have to play, too.
Yes! That's right! Struggle now! Fight to get out of those shackles before they come here! Don't scream, don't call out for anyone! Just struggle to fight and flee!
You don't want to play this game. I'd know. I was running in almost pitch black for what felt like years. You do not want to know what that's like. Having no idea where you're going. Running into walls and doors. Dogs chasing after you, tracking your scent. You don't want to be in this situation!
I remember stumbling many times when I was playing this game. Bobby's single word thrummed in my body like my heartbeat. Stairway. Stairway. Stairway.
Fourth error: Getting in the elevator. But I was cold, bleeding, scared. Truth to tell, one of the rottweilers had caught and torn off my shoe. I still hadn't found any stairways. When I found that elevator... I was desperate. I dived in. I tapped the button for the ground floor...
That accursed rotteweiler dived in with me.
I should have known that would happen. All elevator doors are slow and stupid. For two minutes that felt like two hours, I was in that elevator... wrestling with that dog. It bit and tore at my wounds. I could only scream and cry and fight and hope that somehow, I could be stronger than this beast.
Eventually I slapped at the buttons, got the elevator to stop and miraculously open its doors. I tumbled out in a tangle with that stupid dog, and I was a changed woman. If you must play this game, you will become a changed woman in the process. I became a changed woman. I was full of adrenaline and urgency. Suddenly, I was a wild woman.
I still had one shoe, a sharp stiletto heel... I kicked so many holes into that dog's body...
Hey, don't you start sobbing at me! It was what I had to do! It's what you will have to do if you don't keep quiet and break out of those shackles before they get here!
You'll have do what I did. You will become an animal engaged in battles with beasts.
I won't lie. In that time, I did disgusting things to get ahead. I've bitten those beasts. Stabbed them. Tried beating their heads in. I'd never even dreamed of doing such horrible things, but it was either them or me! I had to win! I had to be the one to survive this linoleum and steel, chilly urban jungle!
I let out a roar when I finally found that stairway, the stairway I'd bought with my debit card. The stairway that would get me out of this accursed place! I scrambled up those stairway on all fours. I kicked the dogs away. In frustration, I deliberately knocked one's feet out from under him and rolled him down the stairs. I think I took out two other dogs in the process. I don't know. I was in no position to count.
I cleared one floor with a smile on my lips, but then I saw the sign. It was paper, black paper that blocked out most of a window, with a cutout in the middle of an arrow pointing right. I didn't understand. I heard the dogs howling. But through that window... Trees! And the sunset's light streaming in, light glittering off the river! Just a taste of the freedom that awaited me!
And yet, I hesitated. This was a game and this was a planted sign. To trust this, or not? Does the arrow point to freedom? Or to my failure? I wish that I'd had more time to think. I don't believe I'd made the wrong decision. I think I could have changed my path at any moment. But I do wish I'd had more time to think.
Ultimately, it was the familiar sight of Bobby's little white Beetle, tinted golden in the sunset, speeding past the building, that guided me. I followed the arrow. I stumbled once, on the continues series of steps, and a dog tore at my leg. I kicked it square in the jaw and roared again. I scrambled up my stairway. I could see everything. Bobby pulling me into his golden Beetle. Speeding through the winding road. Maybe we'd change our names. We'd live out of hotel rooms. Old vinyl records. Cheap wine. Cigarettes. He'd take me to the woods and teach me how to blow smoke rings.
All of that... at the end of the stairway!
I saw that light shining through the door just ahead of me. My hands reached out to push it open.
Fifth error: Overconfidence in split-second planning. Underestimating the Boss.
The Boss was there, and he had others. I remember that there was four shots. All of them hit Bobby Fern before he should shut that golden-tinted door. Before he could lock himself inside the safety of his car. I let out another animal roar. The dogs nearly swallowed me whole.
'Course, I'm here, now. Tied up in rope in dark rooms. You know, for as much as I fought, this isn't so bad. I mean, just in case you have to play the game like I did, and you lose. I want you to know it's not so bad. I mean, they feed you.
But I do miss the light. And Bobby Fern. And his white Beetle, tinted gold in the sunset.
I am going to be hoping that you break free in time. Have you had any success getting out of those shackles? I haven't even heard you knock the chair over. Have you even really be trying? Do you understand what's going to happen to you?
s**t! Hahah! I can hear them coming for you, now! It's too late! Now you can refuse, or you can play their game. You better have been listening to me. I made five errors, when I was in your position. If you've been listening, you know what they are. I have to wiggle back into the hole in the wall, now. I'm not supposed to be here, but I'll be in the next room over. Listening. Wondering what you'll choose to do. I mean, if you refuse... or lose. It's okay. We can share our food. We'll be best friends! Won't that be nice?
They're almost here; I have to go. Goodbye, good luck! You're gonna need it.
