new beginning
1533 Words
The next morning arrived not with sunlight... but with footsteps.
Heavy. Measured. Deadly.
The palace gates opened with a hiss, and once again, he stepped inside.
The man in the silver tie.
Eyes cold as broken mirrors.
Suit perfect.
Scar glowing slightly under the dawn light.
He came for one thing.
Aya.
The Room
Aya was waiting in the girls’ shared room.
Still cuffed. Still bruised. Still fire.
She stood up as soon as she heard the footsteps.
Judy was beside her.
The others sat frozen.
Eyes wide. Breaths held.
The second man walked in without knocking.
Two guards behind him.
He looked around, then pointed.
“Her. Let’s go.”
Aya nodded.
But Judy?
She folded her arms.
“She’s not going alone.”
The man raised a brow.
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” Judy repeated, stepping in front of Aya, “she’s not going without me.”
Chaos Erupts
The guards stepped forward.
Shams ran to Aya and hugged her waist.
“NO!”
Sirin grabbed her other arm.
“You’ll have to rip me off!”
Noor held her leg.
Judy clung to her arm.
Aya blinked.
“…What are you all doing?”
Judy grinned.
“Being your emotional support nightmare.”
The second man stood there, speechless, watching as five girls wrapped themselves around one furious Algerian like she was a giant teddy bear.
Guards tried to move them.
No success.
Sirin bit one on the wrist.
Shams kicked blindly.
Noor sat cross-legged and started screaming in French:
“On va toutes mourir ensemble, hein?!”
Aya rolled her eyes.
“You’re all insane.”
Judy clutched her tighter.
“You love us.”
“I tolerate you.”
“Same thing.”
The Man’s Reaction
The second man let out a breath.
“This is... ridiculous.”
Aya shrugged, still tangled in arms and limbs.
“You said I was dangerous. Now you know I come with... attachments.”
He stepped forward slowly.
The girls tensed — like lion cubs ready to scratch.
Then, calmly, he said:
“Fine. One of you.”
He looked at Judy.
“You. Come.”
Judy grinned like a warrior offered a sword.
She threw a wink at the others.
“Don’t die,” Sirin muttered.
“Or if you do, take one of them with you,” Noor added.
The guards tried to untangle Aya from the rest.
It took ten minutes, three curses, a chair thrown, and a lot of yelling in three languages.
But eventually —
Aya and Judy walked out, side by side.
Bruised. Unarmed.
But laughing like they had just won something.
Behind them, the girls stood in the doorway, waving dramatically.
And for the first time since her capture,
Aya whispered with a crooked smile:
“I’m not alone anymore.”
After a few minutes
The black car cut through the hills like a shadow with teeth.
Its windows were tinted, its doors armored, and the silence inside was louder than the engine.
Aya sat on the left.
Judy on the right.
Between them, the air crackled.
In front — the driver.
And beside him, the man with the scar.
The road was long, winding through the cliffs outside Istanbul.
The palace was now far behind them — a memory made of gold, blood, and locked velvet doors.
The Collector didn’t speak at first.
But eventually, he leaned slightly toward the girls, his voice low.
“You know where I’m taking you?”
Aya didn’t respond.
He glanced back, smirking.
“To a place worse than prison. A place that kills girls like you from the inside out.”
Still, nothing.
He chuckled darkly.
“You’re quiet now. Good. Silence means you’re finally afraid.”
The Look
Aya slowly turned her head toward him.
Her expression didn’t change.
Her eyes didn’t blink.
She just stared.
Not with fear.
Not even anger.
Just deadpan, terrifying boredom.
Next to her, Judy adjusted her seatbelt, yawned dramatically, and muttered:
“Is this guy always this talkative? I thought scary people were supposed to have mystery.”
Aya crossed one leg over the other.
“He talks like he wants us to clap for him.”
Judy nodded.
“I’d rather die.”
Aya smirked.
“Same.”
The man turned in his seat, eyes narrowing.
And then—
Silence.
Because for the first time, he realized:
These girls?
They weren’t prey.
They were wolves in lipstick and bruises.
And somehow — without weapons, without power —
they looked more like mafia than he ever did.
The Vibe
Judy leaned back, rested her boot on the edge of the seat in front of her.
“Wherever you’re taking us,” she said, eyes on the window,
“don’t forget to warn them.”
“Warn who?” the man asked.
“Whoever’s in charge.”
Aya tilted her head, her voice silk over steel.
“That they’re about to get two hurricanes in heels.”
Then Aya hit her hand with Jourie's hand and they laughed
then they Arrival .
The car slowed as the road turned to gravel.
Ahead, the trees parted — revealing a compound buried deep in the forest.
Tall black fences. Surveillance towers. Armed guards in black.
It didn’t look like a prison.
It looked like a training ground.
For what… Aya didn’t know.
But she didn’t flinch.
Judy looked at it, then at Aya.
“Looks charming.”
“Like a honeymoon resort for psychopaths,” Aya replied.
They both grinned.
The Collector opened the door.
“Out.”
They stepped out together — backs straight, heads high, eyes blazing.
Not as prisoners.
As something else.
As trouble.
As they walked through the gates, two guards whispered:
“Who are they?”
Another answered:
“New recruits, I think.”
“They don’t look like recruits.”
“They don’t look scared either.”
Inside the gates, one final camera zoomed in on Aya’s face.
Her eyes flicked toward it.
And she smiled.
Let them watch.
We’ll give them a show.
After they entered the complex
The compound gates closed behind them with a mechanical clang that sounded too much
Aya and Judy stood still.
In front of them stretched a long concrete corridor—lined with glass observation rooms, silent guards in matte black, and cameras that didn’t blink. The air was colder here. Not temperature—just intent.
Like the building itself was watching them.
The Walk
They walked in silence behind the man who brought them — the one with the silver tie and jagged scar. No one knew his name. People whispered and called him:
The Broker.
He didn’t explain where they were.
He didn’t need to.
As they passed, people inside the glass rooms stared. Not curious. Not mocking.
Calculating.
Men. Women. Teenagers.
Some wore uniforms. Others wore designer coats over bruises.
Some looked like soldiers.
Some looked like ghosts.
At the end of the corridor, a fork:
One door left. One door right.
The Broker stopped.
“You go left,” he said, looking at Aya.
“She comes with me,” Aya snapped.
“No,” he replied flatly. “You go alone.”
Judy stepped forward.
“We’re not—”
But the guards were already moving.
Cold hands. Firm grips.
Aya turned sharply as Judy was pulled the other way.
“Don’t touch her!”
Judy shouted, “Aya—!”
Their hands reached.
Fingertips brushed.
And then—separated.
Two doors. Two slams. Two silences.
now Aya’s New World
The hallway Aya entered was quieter. Narrower.
The air thicker.
She passed a girl with platinum hair and black lipstick leaning against the wall, flipping a knife between her fingers. She smirked.
“New meat.”
Aya didn’t flinch. She thought to herself, has all the meat in the world been used up that they are eating human flesh? Do they eat humans here?
Another girl, tall with coal-dark skin and fierce hazel eyes, crossed her arms.
“She won’t last a week.”
Aya stopped.
Looked her in the eye.
“Then I’ll ruin your month.”
Gasps. A laugh somewhere in the shadows.
The knife-flipping girl raised a brow.
“I like her.”
Aya kept walking.
Judy’s Side
Meanwhile—
Judy was led into a tech-lab kind of section.
Dark glass, machines, screens.
A young man with a white lab coat and tattoos up his neck gave her a nod.
“Name?”
“Judy.”
He typed.
“New blood. You’ll be tested.”
“Tested how?”
A small smirk.
“We find out what breaks you. Or what makes you dangerous.”
Judy laughed under her breath.
“You’re gonna need a lot of paper.”
Aya was finally thrown into a metal cell with a glass wall — nothing inside but a bed, a sink, and a blinking red light in the ceiling.
She sat down.
Stared straight into the camera.
She pointed to the camera with her middle finger.
And whispered, for whoever was watching:
“You think you’ve won.
But this place just made its first mistake—
keeping me alive.”
- Writer
