The Procurer

The cave that we took her to was very dark; too dark for her to be able to navigate without our support.
I could tell she didn't like it. Who would like it?
Depending on the vile creatures that abducted you for support to get to an unknown destination that you know for sure that you don't want to get to has to be an immensely frustrating thing.

She was terrified too; that could only have made it worse. I had hit her earlier, just enough to subdue her but she didn't know that.
She was worried I would hit her again if she fought me or tried to get away. I would have hit her again. I would have hated doing it just as much as the first time but I didn't have a choice. If I let her go I would have to go get another *her*.
It was too late for me to stop complying. All I could do, as always, was supply what was demanded and hope that would satisfy them for a while.

She was a pretty thing too. They all were. Pale skin, brown hair, sparkly eyes and button nose.
She had almost no fight in her though. She had as good as come with us.
A little fear of death was all it really took. I should have pitied her but I envied her. It would all be over for her soon but not for me. It would go on until one of these girls was strong enough to do to me what I am not strong enough to do to myself.

"Where are you taking me please?" She finally plucked up the courage to ask. I shook her a little bit and she immediately fell silent again. One of the ones before her had not stopped pressing for information. I had to beat that one a lot.
Way too much.
This one looked like her but didn't have any of her spark.
It's just as well; a complaint, calm, quiet woman is a happier woman. This one would have made a very good wife for some man.

We had almost reached the heart of the cave when she made her only and especially weak attempt at escape.
She got two steps away before I grasped her arm and punched her hard in the side of her stomach. She sobbed.
"If you get lost in here, it'll be worse that what you've got coming to you," I told her.
I didn't really think that was true but I told them all the same thing.
I don't know if it is an attempt to scare or comfort. It often feels like both and neither.

"We're almost there," the other guy told her.
My leg had started to hurt. The cold was making it very stiff. She stopped crying but I could feel her heart beating in her mouth.
When we got to the spot I took the rope off my shoulders and we started to tie her to the narrow piece of rock the way we had tied all the rest of the girls.
The would come for her.

She pled a lot while we tied her up. My companion put his hand against her mouth and gave her a sinister look even though she was talking only to me.
My weakness is visible through my eyes, perhaps. They all attempted to appeal to my humanity; never his.
If only I had any to offer. If only I were a stronger man. Before I left I took the chain from around her neck; she definitely didn't need it anymore.

We walked back quickly without exchanging a word; we always did. This is not an experience you want to share with another person, much less bond over.
Once we were outside in the darkness of night; we parted ways.
I sat down to rest my leg for a while before taking the bus home. I ran her chain between my fingers; her terrified face still flashing before my eyes.
I mourned her, someone had to.
I stopped at the liquor store once I got off the bus and bought some whiskey.

Ten minutes into the walk home it started raining. I was soaked through by the time I got home.
I walked to the cupboard and took out the old tin box from under the sweaters.
I put her necklace in there with the rest of the trinkets.
Number thirty-six; just as special as the rest of them, just as easily forgotten.

Then I sat down and drank.
My clothes were still wet when I woke up the next morning.