Brutal Hunger

f the Pakhan auction, because it meant we woul

bras, and G-strings, and even oiled our skins to make us glow. In a few minutes, we would be heading backstage, leaving this large

up in the wrong hands. As captives of the Pakhan, we were robbed of our freedom, surrounded by hostile individuals wh

o claimed they were my parents. I had trouble believing them

, but they never addressed me by name. They neglec

d me kindness. That was the day they'd promised to enroll me in school. A naive me wa

cause they made me believe it was t

and made me feel loved. I

ould've escaped, but I couldn't. Not that I didn't want to, but because I was sick,

my happiness died, that was where I saw him... the Pakhan of Bratva, Mikhailov. And... that was when I realize

father's foot, and cried to him, pleading with him to

r name. I found you on the verge of death and took you to the hospita

I could walk again, I'd do what I'd always wanted to do since I was brought here. Escape. To

d gnawed at

in searching for me? Having no iota of memory, I created pictures of family and friends in m

htened, we jolted to our feet and fell in lines opposite of each other, our

ps from me. "Ладно,

ured to keep

ha

use the restro

my skin. With his hand, he signaled for one of the

after the door handle clicked, he pulled the bag off my head and I came eye-to-eye with a cramped and feculent restroom.

Ordinarily, we slaves didn't have any shame here. Th

waving my hand over my nose to make him grasp wha

oor after glari

ed into action. Nervous and wobbly, I climbed onto the tank cover

-pitched squeaking sound as it

entirely open, careful to avoid more squeaks. I hadn'

undings. There stood an exquisite backyard. A few men were on g

he door behind me was kicked open. The furious man bu

ands above my head, shivering, my eyes bulging like the

he intended to report my action. I let reflexes gu

as he yelled away his pain. I grabbed his AK and rammed it against his nape, just

as he dead? Having remembered my plan, I hurled the heavy rifle aside, kicked

pped through my legs. It wasn't a remarkable height, the pain allay

arkness covered me. There was a white picket fence far away, beckoning to me. It gave me the courage to keep movi

behind a tree, my heart racing. I dared to shoot him a glance after what seemed like forever. His back w

rass. I let out a terrified cry. I was so terrified that I swung my head i

eflexes consumed me. I could not decide whether to flee or stay. The man who caught me didn't rese

arance. Additionally, he didn't look Russian. He emanated a sinister aura. One that was dark enough to evoke fear in people, one that exuded authority

he ground to run past him, but before I knew it, he'd closed in and grabbed my arm. Within seconds of letting out an ear

is y

and propelled me toward the tree, holding my neck gent

ear," my voice was panicky, couldn't repress my tears. I

other's breath. The hand on my neck inched up as he skimmed the soft p

is y

e keep sa

t me?" I inquired, my v

error, his eyes glistened with a pure

His ministration elicited a sharp intake of breath from me. I even shuddered. The sensation was one of a kind

the shell of my ear, and his

?" he said, his once-impassive bright gray e

m my neck. I could breathe again now, but I was afraid that in a matter of minutes, with three of Mikhailov's guards, my br

ай ей б

tion of the building. Who he was did not matter to me.