Whisper of the Silence

"Flight APG364 has just arrived in Atrexia, Melaindur."

The same announcement came through—repeated thrice.

Shivering in fear, she walked along the jet bridge with her shoulders hunched. Her eyes darted in indescribable panic as she looked at the men in black surrounding her. A helpless sigh escaped her cracked lips. Hands trembling, she fiddled with the black coat topped on her bruised, cuffed wrists. She flitted her gaze to the large glass windows, watching the flock of birds flying across the azure sky. Her sad, longing gaze was enough to say everything.

She was desperate to be freed, after months of being in darkness.

'I want to go home,' she thought, on the verge of breaking down in tears.

The remaining passengers of the same international flight brushed past them, leaving nothing behind but the echoes of their hurried footsteps. Though a few looked back at them, and a slight hint of suspicion certainly flashed across their faces, they did nothing more than frown. No approaches, no questions. And soon after, they continued walking ahead. Perhaps they were in a rush to go to the arrival hall to reclaim their baggage.

Well, they couldn't be fully blamed for that. After all, on the surface, she seemed just like a lady from a wealthy family, protected by several bodyguards.

But she wasn't. She was captured here, sold by her very own blood relations without her consent.

'I need to run!' Clover Hon screamed inside her head.

As soon as she stepped into the airport terminal gate, a wave of cooling sensation kissed her skin. Her eyes widened at the number of people waiting to board the plane that had just landed.

And an idea struck her mind.

She slowed down her pace in a not-so-obvious way. Maybe because they weren't fast to begin with, the men didn't notice anything. Parting her dry lips with hints of fresh blood peeking through, she clicked her tongue. When it wasn't loud enough, she clicked again, harder this time. She didn't care if the men heard her or if her tongue ached. This was her only chance; she needed to succeed.

No way she was going to continue being a sex slave.

A young girl with two ponytails tugged at her mother's hand and said, "Mommy! Look at her! Look at her!"

For one moment, she thought she saw a ray of hope.

"Chloe, don't," her mother muttered, giving Clover a sidelong glance. "Don't look at the weirdo."

'Damn it,' she cursed. 'It's not a joke.'

Nothing changed. Nobody understood her. Those men were still around her, heading in the targeted direction. She tried breaking free from the cuffs, but to no avail. Other than staining her blood deeper into the furry coat, it barely helped with anything.

"Walk faster, sexy. He's waiting for us." The scarred man beside her came up close. He grabbed her ass and squeezed it before whispering, "You'll be treated very well. No worries."

Clover turned around to give him a deadly stare. However, it was soon replaced with fright when a horny expression was registered on his face. His dark brown eyes turned hungry as he ran his finger down into her sensitive spot, scanning for pleasure.

"I wanna be the first." He licked her pinna.

As though somebody dumped a bucket of ice water over her, she shuddered all over and shoved him away. She tilted her head, low enough to erase the disgusting saliva with her upper sleeve.

It was all she could do.

Nowhere near escaping.

They continued walking. Passing by The Face Shop, Jaya Grocer, and Uniqlo, Clover fell into despair when none of the people walking in and out paid enough attention to notice the peculiarity in them, nor did they understand the body language she was trying to express. Slowly, tears began to mist over her eyes, blurring the path in front.

"Are you okay, little girl?" asked a hoarse voice the minute they walked past Starbucks.

Clover jolted, glancing around for the source. Left, right. Up, down. 'Where?'

"Over here!" A fair-looking gentleman waved his Americano in the air. He was taking two steps at a time, catching up with their pace. "Are you okay?" he repeated, pulling the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.

He was trying to get closer when one of the black-clad men suddenly stretched out his arm and blocked the way.

Before Clover could speak, the man interrupted, "Sorry, but this is the lady of our house. Strangers aren't allowed to be close."

"Ah... Really?" The gentleman tiptoed every now and then, looking for a chance to meet her eyes.

'No!'

'No!'

'No!'

"Don't ask for trouble, my lady." The head of the gun at her waist was pressed deeper against her skin.

It wasn't an order. Rather, a threat. The guts to respond to the stranger vanished like they never existed. Words waiting to be blurted out stuck in her throat. Clover lowered her head, letting the strands of stray hair cover most of her face. She was ashamed.

The help was right in front of her. How could she not grab it?

The young man was still lingering with the gang, slurping the coffee in his hand. But when there weren't any responses from the so-called lady of the house, he stopped following them soon after.

"S-Sorry... I think it's my mistake," he uttered and left without looking back.

'Great job, Clover. There goes the opportunity to be freed.'

The men surrounding her began to speed up. Clover did nothing to stop or delay. She was devastated over the loss of her only chance to escape. Fate as a sex slave was starting to stick to her, forcing her to accept.

Suddenly, a wave of deafening noise floated to her ears and pulled her to her senses. She stood on her exposed toes, looking past the men in front.

Hundreds of people were crowding the terminal building. They had their phone cameras held up high, fighting for the best angle.

Having a hunch that something was about to happen, Clover flitted her eyes around, looking for clues she missed.

Right then, she caught sight of drop-down posters featuring a young-looking man everywhere, together with the name "Kyle Lee".

It suddenly dawned on her that someone famous was coming.

Someone by the name of Kyle.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Hearing the exhilarated screams, Clover looked behind her in an instant, and so did the black-clad men. As expected, a young man in sunglasses was walking out of the arrival hall, surrounded by a group of security guards. At the sight of that, the thrilled fans immediately rushed forward with their huge fandom boards. All they wanted was to touch their idol even if it was just a tiny bit. Hundreds of hands were stretched out to reach him, give him gifts, and request his autograph. There was no stop. The euphoria was suffocating the oxygen in the air.

"KYLEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

"Kyle, I'm your biggest fan!!"

"Kyle, you're so handsome! I love you!!"

"I love you! KYLEE!"

Looking at the number of fans who were there to welcome him, the celebrity finally made a pause and bowed. "Hello everyone. It's me, Kyle Lee."

As Clover and the men walked through the crowd, the pumped-up fans ran into them and broke the "invisible circle" Clover was trapped in. Clover took a quick step to the left at once and snuck into the exuberant horde. It was an instinctive reaction. She couldn't afford a slight pause. With her body bent low, she followed the crowd while peeking through the gaps, looking for the men who were hunting for her.

They were there, scattered. Their panicky eyes continued to dart everywhere.

She watched some of them taking the escalator to the higher floor. The little bulge protruding from their back pockets might not mean anything to passersby. But she clenched her quivering hands in fright, knowing exactly what it was. When the men were finally nowhere to be seen, Clover braved herself to take the first step out of the crowd. Only away from this place could she sense escape.

Just as she turned around to leave, she tripped over the stanchion that she had no idea was there. One was linked to the other, and it went on and on. The ear-splitting clank drifted across the air. She had the crowd's attention for a brief second. But it wasn't strong enough to overtake Kyle's presence.

But from the second floor, the men in black saw that scene and met her petrified gaze.

Clover immediately pushed through the sea of humans and ran to the parking lot as fast as she could. Every step behind her felt like a predator's. Panting, she crouched next to a huge black-tinted hybrid van. Her heart thumped against her skin so hard as if it were going to jump out of her chest. Beads of sweat streamed down her chin; shudders continued running down her spine. Staying close behind the vehicle, she prayed with all her might that they would not find her.

Not again.

"They're near." She gasped, feeling the sudden change of pressure crawling in the air.

Right then, she heard someone unlocking the black van she was hiding beside. Without thinking much and putting her safety as the top priority, she hopped in.

"I'll apologize later," she hissed under her breath, climbing from the backseat to the trunk soundlessly.