The Villianess story: A 100 ways to kill your husband-Chapter 314: Hope

"Who are they to decide our fate? There is hope." The princess said. Her weak words carried power, everyone was obliged to listen.

"I have been here for months. There is no hope. We barely leave the cells only when they want to inspect us." The older lady scoffed. She was in her late twenties.

"Have you ever tried to escape? Or do you have no reason to try?" Abrielle asked the lady slowly getting on her feet as she made her way to the bars. She could feel their gaze on her. She wasn’t nervous about it, she needed them to watch her closely.

She knew no one was coming for her but she wouldn’t sit around and wait for death to come for her. She would rather die trying than take it hands down.

"It is useless." The lady insisted, "There is no escape. We are all miles away from home, away from our family in the middle of nowhere." The lady barked out, her voice breaking. She was hurting but couldn’t do anything about it.

"Don’t you want to go back to your family even if you don’t have a family? Don’t you want to survive? This is the death’s bite no one ever makes it out alive." Gasps rang, terror, filling their eyes.

There were six cells in number one containing at least 10 girls and arranged 3 adjacent to each other. Murmurs started to fly around.

The lady from the opposite cell, eyes went blank, her head bowing. "I had a baby barely 6 months old when I last saw her. The day I was kidnapped I left my 2 children and orphaned sisters to give my husband his dinner. He works late at the port; I never made it to the port," she bursts into tears.

"That was 6 months ago. Susan is already a year old now. I never got to watch her first walk or hear her first word. I don’t know if she is even alive. Of course, I want to see my family. It eats me every day, but I am helpless." Another prisoner walked up to her to comfort her.

"That’s enough Becky. I am sure your family is still alive." The prisoner whispered to her.

"I do have a family. I am my parent’s only child, and there is my husband..." Abrielle’s throat went dry. Her husband, she wasn’t even sure if he missed her.

"Are you sure about us ending up dead?" The prisoner that was comforting Becky asked Abrielle. The princess took another bite of her stale bread munching it slowly. She needed to eat to say what she had to do. After she was done she gulped down her water.

They all waited for her to finish. She was wearing a bland brown dress like all the other girls. They truly looked like prisoners. She wiped off the water droplets at the corners of her lips before she continued

"I would advise you to eat your food. We all need to." She said calmly, and the other girls in her cell who had been hesitant to eat eagerly picked up their bread. They could not ignore her calm commanding tone.

"You haven’t answered the question yet."The prisoner demanded. Abrielle grabbed the bars, her blue eyes staring keenly at the prisoner.

"My name is Elle. What is yours?" She asked, taking the prisoners unaware of the sudden question. "Elle," she mumbled.

"Yes, care to share your name." Abrielle requested.

"My name is Heather, I am from Danbury." She answered, her voice relaxed.

"Heather, that’s a nice name," Abrielle replied; something about the name made her uneasy. "Heather, our captors are the Death’s Bite, one of the deadliest traffickers, if not the worst, on the continent. They mainly traffic girls, as you can see; we are all female here."

On hearing her words, they all looked around; there wasn’t a single male. Abrielle then went on to explain the horror of the death bite. "There is no escape from death; why do you think they always take away the girls that no one buys? After a year, their organs are harvested and sold to ritualists? Even the ones that get bought might be killed for whatever sick need of the buyer. Even when you don’t get killed, that is the worst. You will beg for death, try killing yourself, but they won’t let you because they love your pain."

A deafening silence echoed, her words were grim. A little girl in Abrielle’s cell, around 7 years old. She might be young but old enough to understand what the princess meant could not bear it and burst into tears.

"I want my mother," the girl cried but her mother didn’t want her. She was born to a single mother who works in pubs to satisfy sick men. Her mother didn’t want a burden any more. So when she was approached with the offer; within a heartbeat, she sold her daughter, not caring that the girl might die.

"I told her I would be good, but she didn’t listen," her tears grew heavier. The air was filled with something that just provoked pain and sadness.

"So you suggest we fight." Becky finally spoke.

"I’d rather die fighting than accept death. Even if it’s a slim chance we can just try, " Abrielle said with a firm voice; the air cellar went heavy with silence, everyone deep in their thoughts.

"I am ready to try," a soft voice mentioned, drawing everyone’s attention. "Hope what are you saying?" Betty cried out, scared.

"Didn’t you hear what she said? We will die regardless, so isn’t it better to fight for a slim chance? Don’t you want to apologize to mum and dad? I want to give it a chance, this wound might even kill me before they do." Hope explained; Betty felt deflated, sinking into her thoughts.

"Hope, I don’t know what to say," she whimpered.

The doors burst open unceremoniously, and a slim seductive figure Abrielle was getting sick of seeing waltz in

"The Party is over ladies. Wow, what were you guys doing? Your eyes are shining with hope." Penny snickered, her eyes darting around until it fell on Abrielle. "Don’t think of anything stupid, you know the repercussions." She added that the girls slowly retreated deeper into their cells.

Her eyes were fixated on Abrielle, who was in the middle cell on the right, standing close to the bars. She marched up to the princess, grabbing her face before Abrielle could react.

"What did you do princess?" Her voice drawled in a threatening tone.

Even in a place like this, maybe hope still had a place to breathe.