Her clothes meant only one thing. She was out. But to where, and why, and was she accompanied?
When she put her fingers in her pockets, she breathed a small sigh of relief. At least there was that .
Her hair flowed freely down her back and she had the strange certainty that this was not the hairstyle she had opted for this evening.
So many questions, perhaps the most important, given the situation, being how to get back home, were running through her head, but there were no answers. At least, not yet.
The young woman felt hungry, but she knew she would have been unable to swallow anything, such was the anxiety gnawing at her insides. And the hardest thing to bear, leaving aside her partial amnesia, was the cold that reigned in this place that seemed to have never known light.
She didn't know what time it was; she had no bag, watch, or cell phone on her person. Had she been mugged? And in a state of shock, had she lost all her bearings, no longer recognizing anything? Perhaps, but she knew she had to find shelter for the night, or the cold would be the first disaster to strike.
Misty breath was beginning to come out of her mouth. But she stopped worrying about this for a moment when she realized she heard sounds that were not coming from her, but from the surrounding area.
She paused for a moment to look around, trying to pierce the thick darkness with her exhausted eyes. She thought she could more or less make out shapes, but in the end, she wasn't sure, and when she saw glowing eyes pierce the black veils and land on her, she was so terrified that she didn't wait to find out what it was and took off running.
"Someone, anyone, please save me!"
She thought she'd shouted the words, but in the end she only whispered them.
She ran on until she came to a huge empty square in the middle of which sat a fountain as dry as a desert.
But that was just a detail. The important thing was that when she arrived at this immense deserted square, she finally saw some light. Not from streetlamps, not from the stars, but from a few windows from which joyful noises, loud music, and voices escaped.
The place must have been a bar or something similar. Nicole didn't care; the important thing was to get there, get in, and get help.
She pushed open the door, which was black with grime, already discouraging the young woman. But refusing to be put off by this impression, she entered the only place that looked as if it might welcome her.
But on discovering the narrow, filthy interior, and the people who occupied it, who were even more so , she realized she was mistaken.
The strangers, who a second earlier had been chatting amiably among themselves, stopped dead in their tracks as she entered, their expressions changed dramatically.
She was welcomed, but not in a good way. Oh no.
At the mere sight of them, she could have left immediately, run away. She should have, but she didn't. On the contrary. She had entered.
She decided to ignore their gaze, the expressivity of their bodies, her disgust for them.
Despair and the feeling of being lost were taking control of her reason, even though instinct was screaming for her to leave immediately. She was so eager for answers that she threw herself into the lion's den. No, the lion was nothing compared to them.
They couldn't have been more than thirty in number, yet they all had their eyes fixed on her, all were looking at her, devouring her with their eyes, men and women alike—the men coveting her body, the women jealous of her.
Nicole was beautiful, as she well remembered: fiery hair that flowed down her back like liquid gold , a perfect oval face, almond-shaped eyes, porcelain skin, and a body with perfect curves. It was all there.
I should never have come in kept repeating in her mind, but she was unable to grasp it, and besides, it was too late. So, she forced herself to behave calmly and nonchalantly.
"Good evening. Uh, I'm sorry to have disturbed your business, but if possible, I'd like you to help me," she said to everyone inside.
Damn, she was too direct. The basic rule of being lost was never to reveal it.
Another dead silence followed her words. Then a man, taller than the others, and looking more authoritative, finally broke away from the group and stepped toward her.
"We can help you, miss. But you should know that we never give help for free," he spoke for everyone. So she'd been right to think he was the boss. His stooge confirmed this with an offhand comment that suited them.
"Her skin is so white…" And he backed up his words by licking his lips.
"Shut up, you idiot. I can see it better than you."
"But boss, I…"
"Quiet."
"Yes, boss."
"Well, let's get on with it," intimated the chief, crossing his arms.
"Oh, yes." Nicole cleared her throat. "Like I told you, I need help, and I have money to pay for it!"
The young woman immediately made it clear that this was all she was prepared to offer. Fortunately, she wasn't lying. She didn't have a bag, but she'd probably thought to slip a few bills into her coat pockets.
"We'll see," said the chief, crossing his arms. "It depends on how much help you need."
"It's not much," Nicole said cautiously. "I'd just like to know the name of this place and how to get out of it."
"This place does have a name, but nobody's used it in a long time. As for how to leave it…" He paused, and the young woman waited anxiously for the next part.