Her stomach was churning; all of the alcohol she had consumed had left a thick coating on her tongue and a burning feeling in the back of her throat. She desperately needed to pee and she had her face squashed up against the wall of the van, partly buried in some foul smelling coarse cloth sacks that were balled up in the corner.
The air in the van was warm and musty. The two guys who had been camped in the back of it for hours had not thought to crack the door open for a little air; so the smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke and various savoury snacks had left the atmosphere slightly less than savoury to put it mildly.
There was still music coming from the vans speakers, though it had been turned down a lot once the van had left the largely deserted roads and come closer to the edges of a residential area. The van rolled down one road after another, each turn making her fear she would soon see all of the night’s drinks again.
She didn’t want to blow chunks all over the back of the van, she didn’t want them to know she was lucid yet either. She was biding her time until the van stopped and the door opened, and then she would kick, bite and fight her way out of this situation. She was fairly certain the planned party wouldn’t be to her tastes.
The van lurched to a halt and then the engine and the music fell silent. The van shifted slightly as one guy stood and took a step towards the girl crumpled in back. He prodded her, none too gently in the ribs with a heavy booted foot and the force caused her to gasp aloud. Two hands grabbed her roughly under the arms; the van shifted again and the other guy in the back was grabbing her by her ankles. They held her, flipped on to her back and held off the floor, until the side door slid open once more and then they flung her out on to the paved floor where she landed hard and awkwardly, hitting her head squarely on the temple and knocking her unconscious swiftly.
While she was out, they carried her in from the twin car garage, whose doors they had closed after they threw her to the ground. They didn’t turn on any lights in the house, so as not to rouse any unwanted attention from neighbours who they may have woken when they pulled the van in to the sleeping street. Through the living room they bundled her, through a door at the back of the kitchen, and down a steep and narrow flight of stairs leading in to the depths of a cold, damp and windowless basement work area.
There was a high bench in the centre of the room, beneath an array of lights. At each corner of the bench were thick chains which ended in steel bracelets. More chains were looped through hoops which had been secured to the ceiling, these chains could be used to haul a body upright and up off the floor, these, like the chains on the table had all been tested for their purpose over long hours of talk and cold beers. They had planned this night well and for a long time.
They sat the girl on the floor under the ceiling hooks, her unconscious form slumped forward and her head lolled to one side. One hand at a time was fastened in to the chains and she was unceremoniously hoisted up until her wrists almost met the cold metal loops and her now shoeless feet hung inches above the floor. The trio stood and surveyed their prize as she swung slowly from the heavy chains. She would no doubt wake soon and then the fun could begin. Until then there was time for a few beers, which were retrieved from a huge old fridge in the corner.
They drank, and they waited, in silence. After a while one switched on the radio and began to slow grind against the girl, hanging her legs around his waist. The others said nothing, only watching and waiting.
As dawn approached the girl began to stir.