Chapter Two

Annabelle couldn’t breathe. A giant weight pressed against her softly rising chest, threatening to pull her beneath the waves of sorry that crashed against her frail form. Her eyes remained trained on the floor. She knew the consequences if she dared a glance at the Madam. Her back still bore the scars from previous encounters where she had forgotten her place.

She showed no emotion. It was futile to do so. No amount of tears nor begging would sway the Madam from her decision. Her fate was no longer entwined with that of the brothel.  A deal had been brokered. The mysterious man from the previous night had paid her debt. She was his now.

 She fought against the sneer that tugged at her lips. How dare she think that he would be any different than those that had come before. He was not the first who had been tempted by her lovely face, despite it being slightly sunken and pale from the years of torment at the hands of her former enslaver. Not one had been able to afford the steep price Madam had insisted they pay before allowed the privilege of snatching her virtue….until him that was.

         Despite herself, a single tear escaped. It rolled through her dirt covered cheeks, leaving a blinding mark as it did so.  Her hand flew up in a desperate attempt to wipe it away before Madam could see the evidence.

Eyes sharp as an eagle’s despite her increasing age, Madam  caught the movement. Her dim, grey eyes flicked from the paper that lady before her. The chair creaked ominous as the woman stood.  Withered, gnarled fingers lay the quill aside.

Annabelle took in a hitched breath. She knew what was coming. She did not attempt to back away as Madam made her approach. Her hostile eyes bore into her, igniting within her a flame of fear. She stood there a moment, speaking not a word.

The sharp crack of skin connecting with skin echoed through the small room. Annabelle stumbled back a step, catching herself before she moved further. Her cheek stung fiercely but she made no move to touch the aching bit of flesh. That would only earn herself another punishment.

“Stupid girl.” Madame hissed, her viper tongue whipping across her lower lip. “You should be happy beyond measure. He is a man of immense wealth. If you please him, he will give you the life most of my girls only dream of.”

Annabelle didn’t have a chance to react…not that it would’ve made a bit of difference. The deal was done.  The door behind her creaked open. The brothels enforcer appeared. Annabelle couldn’t hide the shudder that ran down her spine. She didn’t know his man but she did know he was not a kind man. It was known throughout the brothel that he was a man who was not afraid to take what he wanted from the girls.

Thankfully, Annabelle had been spared his attention. She had yet to feel a man’s touch. And to the Madam, this made her special. Men would pay their weight in gold for an unsullied woman…or so she had been told.  

With a wave of finality, Annabelle was dismissed.  The enforcer snatched her arm, rough fingers tightening viciously against the crook of her elbow. She bit back a cry of pain. She would not resist. It would serve her little good to do so. The other girls, each one with deader eyes than the one before, lined the halls. Not one would meet her gaze. Each knew what fate awaited her at the end of her journey. She wouldn’t see any of the them again.

Annabelle was allowed to take nothing. Only the scrap of a dress that clung to her thin body would accompany her. A pendant, one that belonged to her mother, bounced against her skin. She would loose a finger should Madam discover it missing. By then, Annabelle would be long gone. It was the one thing she had left from the woman who had given her life. She didn’t even remember what she looked like.

Her Mother had been a whore, like the others. Madame refused to speak of her except for the manner in which she had perished. Consumption had swept through the brothel that winter. It had taken many lives, including that of her Mother. Annabelle had been three. Sometimes, on the bitterest of days, Annabelle secretly wished the disease had taken her as well. It would have spared her the horror that was to come.

Her bare feet hit the snow, shocking her back into reality This time, she couldn’t fight back the gasp of pain that escaped her lips. If the man heard, he said nothing of it. She stumbled, the ice sending an icy numbing chill up the back of her legs. The enforcer whirled, beefy fingers digging her scalp.

 Annabelle cried out as she found herself being lifted back to her feet by her hair. Her nails dug into his leather skin, trying to free herself from his grip. It didn’t work. He continued dragging her towards the small carriage. 

Opening the door, he finally released her hair only to slam his fist into her gut. She doubling over, almost vomiting on the snow. Nothing came up. She merely coughed violently for a few seconds, unable to breathe. He gripped her hair once more, yanking her back into a standing position.

“When yer new master tires of ye, perhaps he’ll let me have a go at you.” he panted into her ear, his hand coming around the grope at her breasts, “Yer a pretty lil thang.” His heavy accent made it difficult to comprehend what it was he was saying.

“I would rather cut my own throat than let you lay a hand on me.” She hissed.

His lips curled into a sneer, calloused fingers move to tighten around the base of her throat, “Yer lucky yer new massa paid a hefty chunk of change to have you delivered to him undamaged.” 

For the briefest moment, Annabelle feared she had made a fatal mistake. His grip around her throat tightened as a warning. Whoever her new master was, the enforcer feared him enough to do as the man bid. They stood there, the biting snow seeping between frostbitten toes, before he finally released her. 

He jerked a thumb towards the carriage, “In with ya, girl.”

The tone with which he spoke made it all too clear that she had best act quick. There was no telling what this man might do should she not do as she was told. He had already demonstrated that he was not afraid to strike her…especially somewhere that wouldn’t be immediately visible to her new master.

Annabelle spared one last, almost longing look, back towards the brothel before climbing into the awaiting carraige. She was plunged into immediate darkness with the slamming of a door. She shuffled to the opposite side the carriage, tucking her shivering legs against her chest. For a few moments at least, she was spared from winter’s biting embrace. 

. She brushed a few strands of hair from her face, finally allowing the withheld tears to flow. The brothel was the only home she had ever known. It might have been hell…but at least it was a familiar sort of hell. She knew what to expect from day to day. What if her new home was worse? She’d barely spoken to her master and knew very little about him.

The other ladies had whispered of his startling features…of how he held the hair of a true gentleman. He’d not gazed upon any of them in a lustful manner during his short visit He’d even offered the youngest of them, a girl aged ten, a few copper coins just for holding his hat and cape. Kindness wasn’t something any of them were accustomed to.

Annabelle had never laid with a man before. Under most circumstances, the girls within the brothel were sold to the highest bidder upon reaching their eighteen birthday. Unlike some brothels, the Madam did not partake in the selling of children. It was her only redeeming quality.

A wicked case of pneumonia the winter prior had saved her from the being sold the minute she turned eighteen. Sitting there, her entire body shaking violently from the bitter chill that caressed her skin, Annabelle wished the illness would have taken her then. At least then she would have perished without the humiliation she was sure to endure in the coming months.

Wiping the tears from her face, Annabelle sighed softly. There was no sense in uselessly dwelling in the past. She must prepare herself for what was to come. If she were lucky, her master would be a gentle man. Perhaps he would not take her innocence the first night. That was the best she could hope for. She’d heard tales of masters eventually freeing their whores once they grew tired of them or bore them bastards. 

An ache formed in the pit of her stomach at the idea of pushing out some evil man’s offspring. Madam hadn’t even bothered sterilizing her as she did many of the girls. Perhaps that was Madams last act of cruelty towards her…allowing her to remain fertile and able to produce children for her new master. Or, maybe, the master would perform the ritual himself. 

Annabelle leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling of the carriage. She wasn’t even aware of having fell asleep until rough hands took hold of her. She found herself being forcibly removed from the carriage, landing with a crunch against the blistering snow. Sparks of pain shot through her body, the snow quickly soaking her thin gown. 

The enforcer forced her to her feet, shoving her forward. “Yer new home, milady.” The enforcer mocked. 

Annabelle’s eyes lifted. A large castle loomed in the distance. A thick fog didn’t allow her much of a view but, from what she could see, it was absolutely massive. . Annabelle”s eyes widened, lips forming a surprise “O”.

“Move.” The man behind her barked, palm shoving her forward once again.

Annabelle bit back a retort and did as he commanded. Each step more painful than the one before, the pair trudged forward. They did not have to walk far. A man stepped from the growing darkness around them, a lantern lighting his way. 

Annabelle was met with the withered face of an elderly man. It was not the face of the one who had bought her. From the way his eye brows rose slightly, Annabelle could see she was not what he was expecting either. Anger flashed behind his startling blue eyes. 

“Is yer Master here?” The enforcer grunted, “I’ve brought his prize.”

The man did not reply at first. Instead, he stepped towards Annabelle.  Surprisingly smooth fingertips forced her chin up, “She is but a child. She has no place here.” He spat, accusation lacing his tone. 

The enforcer took no notice of his tone. “Take that up with yer Master. He is the one who paid for her.”

Annabelle shivered as a fierce wind swept over the trio. The elder gentleman quickly tugged his coat from his shoulders, tucking it around her own, “Your services are no longer required.”

“I’ve been promised payment.” The enforcer growled, palm splayed open in expectation. 

“Your payment is that I spare your life.” The elder man offered in response, his words sharp like that of a dagger. “You will depart this property or I will release my hounds. They will not offer you the same kindness.”

The enforcers face blanched. He muttered something Annabelle could not hear, turning on his heels. He disappeared in the blistering snow. The elder man turned his attention back to her, “Come child.” The animosity no longer lingered behind his words.

Annabelle nodded, moving as if to follow. The snow had turned her toes to ice. She pitched forward, saved only by the elder man’s quick actions. He was quite agile for a man of his years. 

He frowned, eyes dropping to her naked feet. With an hollow sigh, he took hold of her arm. He forced it over his shoulders, all but dragging her through the snow. He showed an immense amount of strength. It was…unexpected to say the least. 

Annabelle did her best to walk. The cold had seeped into her bones, making it exceedingly difficult to move. Her head swam, muddled by the ice that clung to her.

“How dare they drag you out into this mess.” He hissed, clicking his tongue in disgust.

Unsure of what to say, Annabelle chose silence. The darkness that had threatened her vision since being forced from the carriage finally claimed her. She felt herself pitching into the abyss. 

‘Annabelle” A mysterious voice called to her, “Come to me, Annabelle.” A hand gripped the crook of her neck.

Annbelle sat up with a start, fear clutching her chest. It took her a moment to realize she was no longer in the brothel. She took a deap breath followed quickly by another. She glanced around the strange, dim room. She remembered nothing past the elderly man doing his best to help her through the frigid snow. Surely he had not brought her to the castle by himself.

 A lantern sat at her bedside, a flickering candle tucked within. Pushing aside the covers, she forced herself to stand. She stumbled a bit, clutching the nightstand for balance. She glanced down. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had managed to not loose any toes. 

She snatched the lantern from the nightstand, approaching the door with caution. She wasn’t sure what she expected when her fingers clutched at the door knob. The door opening with no resistant was certainly not it. Her eyebrows lifted. Surely, this must be a trap or a test of some kind. Was she really free to roam the castle freeling? Having not met the master, she did not know what rules she was expected to obey.

Plagued with indecision, it was her stomach that urged her forward. A painful stab of hunger gnawed at her belly. She winced. Surely the new master would not punish her for eating. With a shrug, she decided to risk it.

The door protested, groaning quite loudedly as she pulled it open. She froze, expecting…something or someone to emerge from the darkness. When no one did, she poked her head out, glancing from side to side. The hallway appeared empty. She took a step out, the lantern igniting her path. She did not know which way the kitchen lay. She stepped further into the hallway.

“Hello there.” A voice whispered from the darkness.

Annabelle’s heart seized, a scream ripping from the back of her throat. She stumbled backwards, her body nearly toppling to the floor. There was a flash of something in the darkness as a shape moved towards her. An arm snaked around her waist, saving her from quite an embarrassing fall. 

A familiar set of eyes met hers, concern flashing behind eyes of night. It was him, the man from before. She couldn’t breathe for a long moment. She found herself unable to tear her gaze away from him. There was…an almost comforting air about him. The smirk that slowly spread across his face snapped her back into reality.

“F-forgive me, sir. You startled me.” She spoke, all too aware of the way he still gripped her. Her lantern rolled across the wood floor. She hadn’t even realized she dropped it. Surprisingly, the candle hadn’t gone out.

“It is I that should be offering an apology. I am not used to others roaming the house at this hour.” He offered, reluctantly releasing her. He turned briefly, retrieving her lantern from the floor.

“I-I shall return to my quarters.” Annabelle took a step forward with the intent of returning to the room she’d woken up in.

“Did you need something?” His words froze her in place.

Before she could offer a response, her stomach once against gave her away. Annabelle’s cheeks flushed, “Forgive me, sir.”

His eyebrow lifted, “For being hungry?” He chuckled softly, “Desiring food is nothing you should be apologizing for. Come, let us see what we can find in the kitchen.”

Annabelle hestiated. Her eyes drifted to his outstreched hand. She nibbled on her lower lip. He could be no different than Madam. He had bought her. He had paid money for the purchase of a human being. What did that make him? Surely he did not think her grateful. Her eyes flickered back to his face. His lips no longer smiled. They had settled into a grim line. His hand dropped, as if sensing her thoughts.

“You can accompany me or not, Annabelle. I shall not force you.” He turned from her. The biting hunger in the pit of her stomach would not allow her to deny his offer. Keeping a distance between them, Annabelle allowed herself to be led away from her quarters.

Clutching the lantern, they descended a flight of stairs. He walked slow, making sure he was never more than a few inches before her. Once they entered the main living area, he led her down a narrow side hall lined with portraits. Annabelle squinted but, in the dim candlelight, it was hard to make out their faces. They all appeared to be woman of varying ages though. It was…weird. 

The kitchen was decorated with at least a dozen candles, igniting the room in a soft glow. Annabelle set her lantern aside. Her new master, whose name she still did not know, let her towards a table. He pulled out a chair, motioning for her to sit. She did.

A fruit bowl lay in the middle of the table. Before he could offer her a piece, she snatched a red apple from the center. They were never allowed fruit at the Brothel. She had snuck one, once. It had been soft, rotten, but the apple her teeth now sank into was far from rotten. It was crisp, sweet. Her eyes closed a moment, relishing in the flavor.

“I see you enjoy fruit.” His voice snapped her back into reality. Her eyes opened. He had settled into the chair opposite her own, watching her. A heat rose into her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze.

“We were never allowed to indulge in fruit.” Annabelle spoke quickly, feeling the need to explain, “Madame thought us too insignificant for such things.”

He nodded his head, eyes softening in sympathy.  “You need not fear such things from me. You may have whatever your heart desires. All you must do is ask.”

Annabelle wasn’t sure she believed him. Surely, there would be a price to pay for such kindness. It was a price she wasn’t sure she would be able to pay. 

They fell back into silence. Despite her better judgement warning her against such an action, her eyes lifted. Her lips parted slightly. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that frightened her. He cradled his face in the palm of his hand, eyes never once leaving her face. Cheeks burning, she averted her eyes once more.  

“I-I should return to my quarters.” Annabelle stated, rather abruptly standing. She’d grown quite uncomfortable with the way he refused to look at anything but her.

The Master stood as well, “Surely you still crave nourishment? One apple seems hardly enough to fill your belly.”

“I am quite tired from my journey, sir.”

“Malik.” He corrected quickly.

She blinked in surprise, “Pardon?”

He stepped around the table, approaching her slowly, “My name is not ‘sir’. It is Malik. If you are to reside beneath my roof, I think it prudent you know my name.”

Annabelle blinked again, unable to process what she was hearing. The master did not want to be called by his title but by his name? She’d never been allowed that freedome before. She didn’t even now Madam’s name. Even if she had, she certainly would not have been allowed to ue it.

But it was clear, it was what he wanted to here. “Very well, S- I mean, Malik.” She corrected herself.

His lips once more tilted into a spine tingling smirk. Her heart fluttered, eyes widening slightly as he closed the distance between them. Annabelle’s body locked up, her feet frozen in place. She could not force herself away from him. His hand lifted, fingertips brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“Please-don’t..” She whimpered, knowing what was coming. It was as she expected. He intended to force himself upon her. Despite her words, his head lowered.