// kidnapping, trafficking, betrayal, dolls
She was definitely following you, what an idiot.
The path through the scraggly woods down to the campsite by the river was still lit by the fading twilight. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle, she thought she had you cornered. Well, her loss.
You recognized her type, recognized how she studied you, singled you out. You had lived on the street long enough to recognize a predator in the wild, long enough to know that they considered you prey. The grip on your knife tightened, you were almost back to the campsite.
You don’t say anything as you enter the campsite, you don’t need to. The four of you, you understand each other well enough to not need that. You make eye contact, but that’s when you realize they aren’t alone.
The little band of friends you had has doubled in number and you suddenly don’t recognize half the faces. You can smell the blood on them. Your friends seem apologetic, and are explaining that they ran into this group and have been trading. Fingertips brush the back of your head.
Every hair on your body is standing on end. You’re trying to supress the shaking as a fingertip trails around the edge of your jaw and the woman who’d followed you slides into view. She smiles at you, examining you, you want to disappear.
Your friend looks at you, smiling nervously. He glances at her, swallowing hard, “So the deal’s good? We kept our end.”
She smiled at him, “Well, that’s only fair, right? So take your drugs and your little friends and get lost.”
You started to say something, you weren’t sure what, but whatever it was, it was cut off by her fingers tightening around your slender wrist and a bag being forced over your head. You screamed, cursing out your asshole traitor so called friends as you were kicked to the ground.
“Look, sorry about this,” the traitor was saying guiltily, “We needed the shit they had, and you were what they wanted, no hard feelings, you know?”
“Fuck you!” was all you could manage to scream in response before your words turned to incoherent sobbing shrieks.
You wanted to fight back, but the fight had left you. You didn’t resist as they bound your hands and feet. You didn’t squirm and try to escape as they threw you in the trunk. You didn’t even flinch when she put out a cigarette on you. The fire in you guttered out. Good doll.