Fifty-One

Before I can protest, I'm dragged outside harshly, my bare feet hurting from the gravels I'm made to walk down. I wince. After walking for what seemed like eternity through endless tunnels and tunnels, we stop.

I look up, taking in my surrounding. We are in some kind of hall which is just as dark as the room Falcon had locked me up in. It's some kind of dungeon.

But that's not what caught my attention. I grimace. Everyone is awake. The entire dungeon is packed, filled with people. Several guards, and skimpily dressed ladies who look like this is the last place they want to be at.

It's obvious that the women are Falcon's other slaves. Women who are made to do despicable things against their will.

My blood boils as I scan their faces. Today I'm going to get justice for all of them.

The large dungeon is full of people and the only empty place was where I now stood, right in the center. I don't know what Falcon is planning to do to me, and neither do I know where Gypsy and Mrs. Mehra are.