The Chateau (Chateau 1)

“There it is,” the guy in the passenger seat said. “On your left—in all her glory.”

I turned to look at the base of the tower, the long pathway with the fountains down the center, full of pedestrians walking with warm cups of coffee in their hands, enjoying the white Christmas lights wrapped up in the trees on either side. It was something I looked at all the time, a pathway I’d taken on afternoon walks with friends. It was beautiful every time I looked at it, and even now in my disgruntled mood, I still thought it was magnificent.

And then a sharp pain erupted from my leg.

I looked down to the needle piercing through my jeans into my thigh.

My sister had one too.

“You motherfucker.” I lunged forward and grabbed the guy by the throat, slamming my hand into his face to beat him fucking senseless.

Melanie had a harsher reaction to the drug because she immediately slumped back against the seat, her eyes glazing over. “Oh my god… What’s happening?”

The guy pushed me off. “Damn, this bitch is strong.”

“That’s perfect,” the driver said. “She’s better than the weaker one.”

I lunged at him again, but he punched me in the face.

Melanie continued to slip away. “Oh my god…oh my god.” She gripped the handle of the door and just sat there, as if she were hallucinating.

I grabbed the door and tried to open it, feeling my mind begin to slip away, the strength in my extremities fading. The door was locked, so I couldn’t get it open. So, I slammed my arm into the window over and over, trying to break through it.

“Jesus, did you give her enough?” The driver swerved slightly when I kicked the back of his seat.

“Yes,” the passenger yelled. “I don’t know what the fuck this bitch is doing.”

I tried to hit the window again, but I couldn’t. My strength left me, and I slumped in the seat, unable to do anything other than look out the window and watch the lights pass as we continued our drive. People on the sidewalk had no idea of the duress in the car, enjoying their beautiful night in this glorious city.

“It’s kicking in,” the passenger said. “We’re fine.”

I tried to fight my eyes’ urge to close, but I was losing the battle. My eyelids closed, and my body suddenly relaxed in the seat. The last thing I heard was the voice of my sister as she whispered to me.

“I’m so sorry…”

2

French Alps

Vibrations shook my body, a bump making my frame rise slightly from the surface before it thudded back down once more. I was vaguely aware of the cold, of the way my lungs hurt with every breath I took because the air was so dry. Sunlight was on my face, but it didn’t mask the chill that froze every single extremity of my body.

As I came into consciousness, I was vaguely aware of the last time I was awake. My eyes had opened to a dark room, two moth-eaten mattresses on the floor. My sister was on the other mattress, still passed out from the drugs. When the men realized I was awake, their approaching legs came into view. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the needle they injected into my arm. I was pulled under again.

But now I knew I was in a different place.

I tried to move my body, and that was when I realized my wrists were bound together. My legs moved next, and they were in the same predicament, my ankles tied together with rope so thick that I would never be able to rip through it.

Then my eyes opened.

I looked at the wood underneath my cheek, the little holes in the material showing the snowy ground underneath. We must have hit a bump, because it made the vehicle sway and roll my body slightly forward. The sound of the wheels against the earth was loud on my ears, and then I heard the distinct neigh of a horse.

I was in a wagon.

Why the fuck was I in a wagon?

I rolled to my back so I could look up at the sky. It was a sunny day, not a single cloud in the sky, and the air was so dry it was like sandpaper on my lungs. Tree branches extended from trunks into my vision, wooden slices without leaves.

I raised my chin to look across the wagon.

Melanie was there, fast asleep with her face against the wooden cart that carried us. She was bound at her hands and feet too, the small breaths coming from her nose visible as vapor.

“Melanie?” I whispered.

Her mouth was open, and she drooled onto the wooden plank.

I rolled to her spot and hit her with my shoulder. “Melanie? Wake up.” When I’d stirred initially, I’d awoken to a reality that seemed dreamlike. Taking in my surroundings with a dose of skepticism, I didn’t feel much panic. But now that reality had sunk into my flesh, I realized my fate was still in jeopardy.