Chapter 1 to chapter 20

Elira's POV

A scream tore through my throat as they whipped my back. I was clothed this time but barely.

I only had a singlet and shorts on, and my whole body was filled with scars and burn marks.

“Argh,” I yelled again as the whip came down on my back again.

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from yelling, and I could already taste blood on my tongue. But the whipping only worsened as though they enjoyed me yelling my lungs out.

”Why don't you scream louder?” the man in the mask said, and with how his eyes were crinkled at the edges, he was smiling and enjoying my torture.

I looked up at him and smirked.

“Why don't you take off the chains and I'll show you how to scream?” I taunted him, and he frowned, his face turning red as he whipped me again, but harder this time.

I flinched backwards, my back hurting so badly.

“Enough,” came a voice from the small speaker in the room, and they paused immediately, stepping back from me and walking out of the room.

I couldn't feel my arms anymore, I couldn't tell how many days had passed, hell, I couldn't even tell whether it was day or night.

I had been hanging by the chains, and my wrists bled every time I moved. My body was terribly weak, so that even if I were released right now, I wouldn't be able to do anything.

The camera's light was still blinking, and every day, I would look at it just once and smile.

If they think this bit of torture would break me the they don't know what's coming to them.

The glass doors open and some men walk in carrying a big box.

They move to one of the walls and slowly wipe the box, placing a TV.

“Spoiling me now, aren't you all?” I asked in a sarcastic tone, but they didn't say anything.

They just go about working. One of them looked scared to be in my presence. His hand kept shaking as he worked.

Bingo.

“I can't believe I've been put here. What did I do to deserve this?” I began to cry, tears streaking down my face.

The soft guy, flinched and turned a bit to face me. He had a mask on his face like his partner.

“Focus Marco. She's baiting you,” the other one said, and he flinched, facing his front again.

“I really didn't do anything. Please let me go.” I yelled, wailing louder.

But Softy didn't turn to face me. His hands still trembled though.

The other one who seemed more mentally strong, came over to me and looked at me cautiously before placing a device on my neck.

Just as he moved closer to inspect if it was placed properly, I bent my head down and chomped down on his neck, biting so hard that I began to feel his blood in my mouth.

He began to yell, flailing around for me to release him, but I didn't.

Softy began to panic, and he came to me, trying to pull his friend off me, but he wasn't as strong as I thought.

The camera beeped as I stared at it for the second time that day and men rushed into the room.

One came over and hit me across the face, making my vision blurry, so I had no choice but to let go of the guy's neck.

He fell to the floor with a thud, shaking in a traumatised state. His eyes were wide open, and blood sputtered from his neck.

His eyes found mine and I looked at him with my eyes narrowed in slots.

“You should probably get a rabies shot after this.”

He shivered, looking like he was wishing for my death. The other men helped him out but softly kept glancing at me.

I laughed hysterically, even though my body ached, and I knew what was coming for attacking the man.

Once they were out, leaving the guards, they surrounded me.

I bowed my head, getting ready for another round of beating till I passed out and was forced to wake up and pass out again. When I stood, I felt my chains taken off me.

The TV turned on and was black at first till several small screens came on with people in each screen.

I fell to the ground when the second chain came off and stared at the faces.

My vision wasn't one hundred person but I could make out who they were.

The mafia that hated my father and me. They looked haughtily at me.

The camera must be broadcasting my suffering to them and they must be having so much fun, seeing it. So why was this TV brought here? So I could see my suffering too? Watch them mock me?

How hilarious.

I was sprawled on the floor as the men surrounded me.

“What were our orders?” one of them said through his mask.

Why were they wearing masks? Is there something in the air to weaken me?

A computerised voice came through the speakers. “Fight with her. Fair and square.”

I didn't want to look at the camera again. I had already done that enough times today, so I just let my head lie on the floor, limp.

“Is she strong enough to fight? We just might kill her in the process.” I e of them said, kicking me in the stomach as he laughed.

I heard footsteps coming closer to my head and then, my head was pulled back and a liquid was forced into my mouth.

Poison?

But I refused to swallow.

He looked me dead in the eyes and spoke in a soft and quiet voice “Swallow if you want to live.”

His words confused me. Isn't everyone here supposed to hate me, except Softie?

A voice came from the screen. “Get on with the match already. I didn't pay too money to see her drink some stupid shit,” he yelled.

I looked at the screen and marked his face.

I swallowed the drink and slumped back to the floor.

The men were silent for a while till a bell rang from the speakers. “One man each, two minutes.”

“I want to go first.” one said, sounding too excited as he cracked his knuckles.

“I'd like to put this bitch in her place,” he said with so much disgust.

I pulled my hair and I got a look at his face. I remembered him. He was one of the guards who worked for me, but I fired him for indecent actions with a maid.

“You really think you're all high and mighty? You didn't even let me get some with that maid,” he gritted through his teeth and then whispered, If we were allowed to have our way with you, you would have died from the pleasure I'd have given.” he smiled, but his breath stank, and I scrunched up my nose.

“Come closer,” I said with a hoarse voice.

He looked confused at first and then his eyes glinted as he moved closer to my face.

I pulled my head back and then pushed it forward hard, nodding him on the head.

He fell back on his back, holding his forehead as he yelled out in the room.

None of the other men came to help him. They just stood, watching him. I guess they're really following the rules, huh? One man, two minutes.

I slowly got up and felt strength in my body. Was it from that man? I looked around, trying to find his face, but for some reason, they all looked the same now.

“You stupid, dumb, bitch.” he got up and walked over to me, still holding his head that had a little cut with blood dripping from it.

“I staggered as I walked, still trying to get my footing after not using my body actively for a while.

“You have 40 seconds more. You're sure you don't want to use it to bring me to my knees?” I teased.

There was a timer on the screen, and my audience looked so invested in me being brought down by a perverted fool.

“I don't need up to forty seconds, you slut.”

He swung at me and I dodged it with the little power I had in my body. I threw a punch, but it had no strength, and it ended up being like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Laughter filled my ears from the screen as they laughed at me, the man also bent down, slapping his knee and laughing his heart out.

I felt my strength coming back. Bit by bit.

“Let's try that again shall we?” I said, turning to the side and coughing up blood and then turning to face him.

He smirked and walked so close to me with his hands out. “Try me. Let me see how much those baby hands can—-”

I threw a punch and a sickening crunch was heard as he fell to the floor with his head twisted in an odd direction.

Chapter 6

Who are you?

Elira's POV

The entire room went silent. The men who surrounded me didn't say anything as the timer rang.

Two minutes over.

“Damnit, I bet on that one.” one of the men on the screen said, frowning at his loss.

Two men from the men surrounding me came forward and dragged the man away by his hands and out of the room. As another came to my front.

He had a mask on like the other man but I couldn't recognise him from his eyes.

He looked like an Asian, even though I haven't had a physical run-in with any Asian.

“You sold my sister,” he said in a low tone, and I just looked at him, shocked.

“Excuse me?” I asked, and he jumped high, kicking me in the face, and I flew across the room, hitting the glass wall with a loud thud.

My head spun as the voices from the TV erupted into cheers.

“I'm glad I bet on this one. Asians sure know how to fight.” A haughty female voice came from the screen as she annoyingly giggled.

I tried to get up, pushing myself up but my head hurt a whole lot that I couldn't see.

I tried again but failed miserably.

I felt someone pull my hair, dragging me back to the circle.

I tried to open my eyes to see who it was, and it was the Asian who accused me of selling his sister.

“I will take your life,” he said.

He didn't seem to know proper English as his sentences were short. He must have illegally come here for work and ended up on the wrong side, which took his sister as collateral for debt.

But how did Tha have anything to do with me?

I could tell from the pain in his eyes, but no records went through me of a girl being sold. I never dabbled in child or human trafficking.

“I didn't sell–” I tried to explain myself but he punched me in the face, making my head ache the most.

I felt like my head would split in two as I held it between my palms.

He yelled as he lunged at me for the third time but this time I rolled over and he kicked the air.

He was getting restless. He wanted to end this quickly.

That was the first mistake he made.

He came up to me and I jumped up to my feet, startling him, so he stepped back. He then stood staring at me for a while, rethinking his next line of action, but he still seemed so restless and that was his second mistake.

When you take time to regroup, you do it to regroup your mental state. He just did nothing at this point but took a step back without reasoning.

He charged at me again and this time, he wasn't cautious.

I stood my ground even though I felt like I would die any moment from exhaustion and grabbed the arm he stretched out in a fist to hit me. I stared him in the eye for a second, then smiled sweetly as I twisted it behind his back and heard his bones crack.

He held in the pain, but I made it worse by stomping hard on the back of his thigh, and that was when he finally let it all out.

He screamed out and tried to get out of my hold but this was one of my favourites. There was no way he could get out.

He began to beg and cry, telling me to let him go.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I will find your sister.”

That made him still as the timer went out.

I let him go and he turned to face me. I nodded and he nodded back, nursing his broken arm.

He stepped back away from me, and in seconds, he was on the floor, face flat with blood pooling from the headshot he had received.

Where had the bullet come from?

I looked around the room with my blurry vision but I couldn't pinpoint it.

None of the men was holding a gun, so how?

I had studied this room a million times so how?!

Is this a win-or-die affair?

I'm impressed by who set this all up.

I chuckled and soon burst out laughing like a madwoman.

“I see. That's how it is? Kill her or be killed! Or is it break or be killed? Why don't you just aim the gun at me and end this? Huh? Why don't you? Cowards, bunch of lowlives gaining pleasure from my pain. I would ruin all of you. Mark my words!” I yelled, turning around to face the camera for the third time that day.

The guests on the TV started laughing at my display. The timer started again and another came forward. The Asian guy had already been dragged away.

“I'm scared,” he muttered, and I finally looked at him.

He looked young, too young to be here. In his late teens. Probably seventeen or eighteen but my question still remained. What was he doing here, and what was the criteria for taking these people?

His hands shook as he walked towards me, trying to attempt a fighting stance.

What had all these people done to deserve being brought here? Apart from that perverted bastard, how many of them didn't deserve this? So I did the only thing I could do to save him.

I stayed still as he approached me.

I took all the punches till I was crawling on the floor and wheezing. His timer went off and he didn't have a single scratch on him from me.

Most of the guests on the screen groaned at the fact that he had won. Apparently, most of them didn't bet on him winning so they didn't bother.

The boy staggered back as tears filled his eyes at how I looked.

He looked apologetic but I just gave him a small smile. Not like he could see it since my hair covered my entire face.

“One candidate, successful. Activity over,” the computerised voice said through the speakers, and the guests on the screen clapped.

The rest stepped out and I was left on the floor, writhing in pain.

The TV went off and all the lights in the room turned off too, leaving me in the dark.

My whole body ached and the pain I had been suppressing came rushing at once.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip till I bled to hold it back but I was highly unsuccessful.

I curled into a ball and let the darkness consume me as I fell unconscious.

—

My eyes opened slowly and I was back to being chained on the wall. My bruises were covered with bandages and there was a man with a white lab coat, injecting something inside me.

I should have fought him off but I chose not to, letting him put whatever liquid they sent him to into my system.

Once he was done and he stepped out, I was left alone.

I didn't know if it was the following day so I didn't bother to look at the camera. I just hung from the wall and hummed the tune my father used to sing to me when I was younger.

The doors opened and someone stepped in.

His scent filled my nostrils and my head snapped to him.

“You,” I muttered under my breath and he froze where he stood.

He slowly took off the gas mask he was putting on and his face right in front of me made me wish I wasn't chained. I wanted to tear him apart.

“Elira. I see you're faring well.”

“So there really was something in the air then, considering you came with a gas mask.”

He didn't reply and walked closer till he was right in front of me.

“You have three questions to answer in two minutes.”

I threw my head back and when I brought it forward again, I spat in his face.

“You do love your two-minute rule, don't you?”

He didn't say anything and brought out a napkin, wiping it off his face.

“You should really use your time wisely,” he said, looking back at me with no emotion on his face.

“I tend not to listen to jackasses. And newsflash, you're a jackass.”

He drew his fist back and punched me in the nose. I felt it crack and blood dripped from my nostrils.

“Three questions, Elira,” he repeated, and I just stared at him.

“Who are you?” I asked, he took some steps back and some people rushed in with a foldable chair, opening it as he sat down.

“Aiden, your worst nightmare,” he replied with a smirk I so wanted to wipe off by tearing it off his face.

“Nice to see your face again, you fucker.” I spat.