Mine

Less - 8

The moment we hit that stage, I can feel him. His energy is a steady torment of bliss and pain. Like when something hurts but feels so good all at the same time. He also has a very specific scent that wafts above everyone and everything else. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but it speaks to my being.

Once carted off stage, I was put into a waiting area with a few of the other girls I'd been with all along. They whispered excitedly, but I didn’t get the chance to ask them what about.

We watched as the other girls were collected by all kinds of men. Some old, some heavy. None of them looked like any of the men Tate kept company with. I’ve hit the jackpot. This is it. This is the cult or whatever dark thing Tate Loren is associated with.

Judging by the secrecy of it all, I was stupid to think I could ever find out about it online. No, this is all much deeper than the dark web and excitement brews in my core knowing that some conspiracies may even be right.

Finally, the last pod of girls leaves with an older man and a huge wall of a man approaches us.

“Get up. There’s been a change of plans.”

“What kind of change?” I blurt.

My fellow females snap their gazes to the floor. How dare any of us questions where we would be going. They are used to this life. My obedience has been a facade, unbeknownst to anyone but myself.

“The change is, you’re all now employed. Welcome to The Order.”