Trafficked Series

by Taylor Ann Stone

I let her last words linger in my ears. No way out? What does that mean? What would Dmitri’s family mean to do with so many of us? “Has anyone ever left?”

  “Yeah, all the time actually. They come down and blindfold a handful of girls, take them out of here and we never see them again.” The girl scooches down onto the floor in the prone position.

  “What does that mean?” Panic re-emerged in my body.

  “The best we can figure it, they’re trafficking us.” She said this so matter-of-factly that I didn’t grasp the weight of her words at first.

  “Trafficking? What do you mean?” I asked.

  “How old are you, girl?” Her tone turned condescending.

  “Seventeen,” I answered.

  “Oh, another young one. Damn.” There was a faint hint of pity in her words. “Look, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re going to be sold soon.”

  “Sold?” Her words shocked me. “As in like a slave?”

  “Yeah,” she adjusted her body to a better sleeping position. “All you can do is obey what they tell you to do and wait. At least you’ll get out of here at some point.” She turned her back to me and didn’t say another word.

  Why did she appear so calm? Had she been down here long enough to accept her fate? My mind ran the previous list of events that had occurred. Seeing Dmitri at school, flirting with him and lying to my parents about meeting him. Oh no. My parents. They don’t know where I am. They must be so worried by now. A surge of guilt overtook me and I buried my face in my hands. The cold metal of the shackles bruised my wrists. I lied to my parents and now they have no clue where I am.

  Who were Dmitri and his parents? Did they really work at the embassy? And how was I going to find my way out of this situation? I laid on the cold floor, tucking my knees into my chest and crying silently as I heard faint sounds of heartbreak that matched my own.

  CHAPTER 6

  A single stream of light infiltrated the basement window and pierced my eyelid. I squinted and moved my head which woke me up just as the door at the top of the stairs creaked open and a man’s voice yelled down to us speaking Russian. Based on the tone of his voice, it seemed he wanted us to wake up and move quickly. I wasn’t inclined to comply but I was also still terrified. I didn’t know who this guy was or what he was capable of doing to me. The daylight illuminated the basement and I was shocked to see so many girls down here. Last night, I couldn’t see them even though I heard several of them wailing and talking to each other. You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face when the lights were out.

  I sat up and watched as the other girls got up and looked at him. He pointed to me and four other girls and motioned for us to follow him upstairs. “What’s going on? Why did he point at me?” Panic ripped through my veins.

  “It’s time for bathroom breaks and breakfast.” The girl from last night ran her fingers through her dark wavy hair in an attempt to brush out any minor tangles. “We’re going first.”

  It was a bit remarkable how nonchalant most of these girls were acting about the situation. They were covered in dirt and grime, sleeping on the cold concrete and most of them looked like this was a normal morning for them.

  One girl, in particular, looked no older than fifteen years old. Her small frame shook from the morning chill in the air. She wore jean shorts and a white tank top that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month. Her long caramel hair was tangled and stuck to the back of her head. She broke my heart.

  A desperate thought plowed through my brain. Had they been down here that long that they’d come to accept their fate? And would I do the same? I prayed a silent prayer for God to help me out of this situation, promising never to go anywhere without a chaperone again.

  “What’s waiting for us at the top of the stairs?” I asked her.

  “It’s fine. Just follow me and you’ll be okay.”

  “How long have you been-” the tubby, balding Russian interrupted me. He yelled what could only be described as a stream of Russian curse words while pointing a finger in my face. I assumed it meant that I should stop talking. We made eye contact and the seriousness in his facial expressions told me that I’d better comply.

  The girl I was talking to nodded her head to the man in agreement. She placed her hand on the middle of my back and gently pushed me up the stairs. My bare feet jerked at the wood step underneath and the hint of a small splinter that almost impaled my big toe. I adjusted my foot and stepped up. The wood underneath my foot threatened to break, but I ignored it and walked up each step with intention and speed. I made my way up the stairs until I was through the door and into what looked to be the kitchen. My eyes burned and I squinted to deny some of the bright lights to enter into them. My hand protected my face while I waited a few seconds for them to adjust.

  The other three girls that were chosen with us fell into step behind this girl and myself. Together we all made it to the central part of the house. I could see Dimitri's parents intensely staring at a huge computer monitor. There were several black monitors circling the big central one on a large desk. They were speaking to each other in Russian and pointing to what looked to be photographs on the screens.

  The bald tubby man pointed to my new friend, spoke something in Russian and motioned to her, and then pointed to the rest of us. I assumed it meant that he wanted her to manage the bathroom breaks for the rest of us. She nodded. “Okay, we have to hurry up.” She said.

  “How do you know what he’s saying?” I asked.

  “I’ve done this routine long enough. He puts me in charge so he can go into the kitchen and stuff his face with danish pastries.”

  She didn’t seem particularly bothered by the situation. My attention turned back to a few seconds ago and the way they were looking at the computer screens. I wondered what they were looking at. I only got a glimpse of black and white pictures on the screen. One side of the screens seemed to show surveillance footage from multiple angles. Were they surveilling the outside of the house? It would make sense. If they were trying to keep this many girls captive, they’d probably take that kind of precaution to keep anyone who might come to the door out.

  The girl moved us across from the kitchen and into a giant guest bathroom that was bigger than my bedroom. A crystal chandelier hung from the highest point of the ceiling in the middle of the room. There was a double vanity with fuschia vinyl high back chairs pushed neatly under them and mirrors that stretched from the vanity to the top of the ceiling. The entire house mimicked this type of luxury. It made sense to me that they would be able to keep a lot of women in the basement.

  I kept my head down trying not to make direct eye contact with the bald, tubby man who by this point was double fisting what appeared to be apple fritters while keeping one eye on us from the kitchen. I used my peripheral vision to observe as many physical details about the place and the people who’d kidnapped us- the sound of their voices. How many of them were in the house. What they were wearing. And then a thought occurred to me that made me feel a little stupid. Were they even Dmitri’s real parents? Probably not. And where was Dmitri? I hadn’t seen or heard from him since the day I came over here. I thought back about how much I wanted him to like me and about how I would do almost anything to be the one he picked. I had no idea he would betray me like this and I was so mad at putting myself in this situation. I understood that there was no way of me knowing this would happen, but it didn’t sting any less.

  When I turned my attention back to the girls who were lined up in the hall with me, I noticed that they seemed to be very excited about being let out of the basement. Many of them were in rags, dirt on their faces and hair greasy stuck to their foreheads. It didn't look like they’d had a shower in some time. I was next to use the bathroom when a black-haired girl pushed in front of me. She caught me off guard so I had little time to react before my new friend stood in between us. “You wait your turn, four.”

  “If I don’t go right now, I’m going to pee all over myse
lf.” Four crossed her legs together to make her point.

  “Too bad. She was next, so move.” My friend gave her a look that had Four switch her gaze and move behind me.

  She appeared to be the leader of this group. She had the best organizational skills and she was the most alpha compared to the rest of the girls.

  “Her name is Four?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s your name?” It was a bit impersonal as there were five of us in the bathroom at one time. The other two girls were trying to splash water on their faces and body as some sort of shower. It was incredibly awkward being expected to use the bathroom in front of four other people.

  “You can call me Two.” She said.

  “But what’s your real name?” I asked.

  “We get in trouble if we use our real names.” She held the toilet paper and handed me a handful of tissue. “You’d better hurry if you gotta go, or else Four’s going to take your turn.”

  I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet trying to ignore the humiliation of the situation with the justification that we were all in the same boat and most likely none of them cared too much either. “What’s the significance of the number two?” I asked.

  Two didn’t answer right away. She looked up for a moment at nothing in particular before she responded. “I was the second girl they kidnapped.”

  My heart sank. This poor girl. She’d been here longer than anyone. “Where’s One?” I asked.

  “She’s been gone for a while now. She was a handful. Would never comply with them and fought back every chance she got.” She motioned for me to hurry up and finish.

  I pulled my pants up and flushed the toilet. “Where did they take her?”

  “How should I know? Now, wait over there until the rest of us are finished.” I did as she said thinking about the long term effects this would have on her, and all these girls. I was terrified for my own safety, but I’d just gotten here. I couldn’t imagine staying here for several weeks with no idea what would happen to me.

  “You'll get your own name soon. They usually issue them after a few days.” Four whispered in my ear. “A pretty thing like you will probably be out of here sooner than later.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer but gave me a hateful sarcastic grin. It took me a minute to think of her words before I realized what she meant. Based on what I’d seen, these people had a lot of money and they were highly organized. Terror slowly dawned on me that based on movies and TV shows that I had seen, that was a trafficking operation. That had to be the only explanation why there were only girls in the basement and why the computer monitors had photographs of girls. These people meant to sell all of us as slaves.

  My veins iced over. I gasped and had trouble regaining my breath. There was nothing I could do to stop this. It was happening to me and I had no say in anything. I didn't know what to do. There was no one I could call and nobody knew I was here. The balding tubby Russian man was now urging us back down into the basement. As I started to walk past him, he grabbed my arm and shook his head no. He pointed to another room down the hall and motioned for me to head in that direction. I swallowed hard as fear began to choke me. I wasn't sure what was about to happen.

  The man who had posed as Dmitri’s father got up from the desk and walked up to me. He picked up a tendril of my hair, rubbed it between his fingers, and dropped it. His eyes looked me up and down as if he were eyeing a prime piece of meat. He said something in Russian to the balding tubby man who took me to that room.

  Two stepped up to him.”Let me stay with her and show her the ropes since she’s new. That way she’ll be easier to handle.”

  He looked at her and then looked at me. “Fine. She’s your responsibility. But if she gives us any trouble, you share her fate.” He turned around and said something in Russian to the bald, tubby guy. They walked into another room.

  “What do you mean? Are you helping them?” I was in shock that she could turn on me.

  “No, don’t be stupid. I’m trying to help you. Now listen, you’re going to take a shower and when you get out, I am going to dry your hair. They’re going to want you to wear one of their dresses and look nice.”

  “Why?” I was shaking.

  “Because they’re going to take several photographs of you. And then they’re going to post them on the dark web and start taking bids.” Four grabbed me by the shoulders. “Don’t give them a problem and you will be safe.”

  I couldn’t speak. It was all too unbelievable to process.

  “Hey, did you hear me?” She asked.

  I nodded my head in absence of my voice speaking for me.

  Four made eye contact with me. “Do you understand what’s going on? You’re going to be sold to the highest bidder. We all will be.”

  CHAPTER 7

  M y mother told me once if I was ever attacked that it was my soul mission to fight with everything I had to get away. Kick, scream, gouge their eyeballs out of their sockets. Whatever I could do to buy a couple of seconds so I could run. She explained that for the most part, attackers didn't want victims who were going to be a problem for them, so they looked for compliant personality types that they thought would do what they were told and not fight back. Part of me felt like I had disappointed her. Had I looked to Dmitri to be a girl who would have easily complied? My heart sank into my stomach. This wasn’t my fault, but why did I feel responsible?

  Her voice ran through my head on repeat the past four weeks. I looked for an opportunity to run, to redeem myself in my mother’s eyes. Every morning they would let us out to relieve ourselves, give us what they considered was breakfast, and then return us to the basement. We only showered once a week in rotation and were given a limited amount of time to do it. The routine ran like clockwork. I realized that was something that worked in my favor. It would be easy to predict their behavior when I knew what to expect. All I had to do was watch them as much as I could when I got the chance. I could study their movements and use it to plan my escape.

  Nighttime was an opportunity for all of us to quietly talk about a plan to escape. Most girls were terrified to try to leave, believing they would be severely hurt if they did. All I knew was that if they sold me to someone and I left this house, the chances of my parents or law enforcement finding me would go from bleak to non-existent. I had to find a way to escape before they found a buyer for me. This morning I decided that I’d had enough of it. The fear and apprehension of waiting to find out which one of us was going to be abused next. If we stayed here, we might not ever make it out alive.

  I stood in line for the bathroom and watched Dimitri's dad as he sat in front of the computer logging in his password. I’d noticed that the clock on the kitchen wall always said seven o’clock every morning. These people kept a strict schedule. It was the same time we were being given this opportunity to go to the bathroom and get breakfast that the man that I only knew to be Dmitri’s father would sit down to his computer screens and log into his computer. Each morning I would watch him enter his password to gain access to his files. It took me a couple of weeks but I believed that I had the password memorized based on the position of his hands.

  Typing class was never my favorite but I gave a quick silent prayer to the Lord above for being required to take it in school. Now that I knew his password, I just had to find a way to gain access to his computer. It was important to do this because our shackles were electronically controlled from his computer. There were several times that I witnessed him unlock our shackles when we had to take a shower. If I could gain access, maybe I could unlock all the girls’ shackles and we could find a way to escape. Maybe since there were more of us than them, we could overpower them.

  This morning as we're going to the bathroom and getting our food, I noticed that he got up from the computer and went into the other room. “Let me know if he comes back,” I told Two.

  “What are you doing? Do you want to get us all in
trouble?” She tried to grab my hand but I slipped out of her grip and headed toward the computer.

  I sat at the computer and moved the mouse so that it would bring me to the login screen. I looked behind me to make sure he wasn’t coming back and then punched in a series of letters and numbers. I hit the enter key but nothing happened. I must have punched it in wrong. Again, I looked behind my shoulder making sure that nobody was coming to get me. I could feel that I only had a few seconds left. As I typed the password a second time, the screen turned green and gave me access. That’s when I felt a cold hand on my shoulder and a sharp Russian tongue cursing at me. He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out of the chair onto the ground. I put up my hands in an effort to protect my body, but he picked me up and threw me down again in the direction of the basement. “You want to be difficult, eh? Then you’re going to feel what it’s like when you’re difficult.” His thick Russian accent fought for control over his words. “Ariel, take her to the basement and chain her to the wall.”

  “No, please. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’ll be good, I promise!” I cried.

  “Too late for that. Lucky for you, I’ve got a buyer. One that wants his girls to be nice and pretty. Otherwise, I might have rearranged your face. But no matter, you won’t be my problem for much longer.”

  I don’t know what got into me, but my tears stopped and the fear that I’d been under for four weeks transformed into rage. Suddenly I didn’t care what he could do to me. As his flunky held me up, I spit in his face. He touched his hand to his cheek and wiped my spit off then slapped me across the curve of my jaw. Ariel pushed me into the basement and shut the door.

  I tasted the metallic flavor of blood and held my cheek. I was so close. I could have gotten myself and the other girls out if I had only had another couple of seconds.

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to get all of us killed?” Two yelled.

  I didn’t answer her and instead slid down the wall hugging my knees to my chest and wondering if I would ever see my mother again.