Snippet #1531173

Alexandra had been sitting curled up on the floor holding her sketchpad in front of her with glazed eyes. Suddenly, she snapped out of this as the sound of her door being unlocked and opened seemed to 'wake' her. The artist stood quickly, sketchpad still held tightly in her left hand, grabbed the pencil from the dresser and moved to the door cautiously. When she felt it was clear, she stepped out into a long corridor that was quite well lit.

“Welcome, ladies,” Alexandra heard a man's low and raspy voice call out, seemingly from her left. " Please, do come out and take a seat. You will find the armchairs to be comfortable, I am sure. First on our list of to-do things is a chat about my expectations, and then all of you will be fed. I do hope that sounds reasonable.” Alexandra heard the command in his voice and decided she would obey it. She walked quickly in the direction she had heard the voice, stopping as she came to stand in the doorway of a circular room with several girls sitting in a few of the chairs the man's voice had mentioned. Thinking about the man made her glance around warily with her pale blue eyes, stopping at the sight of a man who was dressed expensively and wore a long bird mask to hide his face.

Even though she felt fearful, the young artist wiped her expression completely free of any emotion before she entered the room. Her eyes scanned the objects as she took a seat in one of the armchairs, spotting a mini fridge but she skipped over that quickly. She made note of the grand piano, floor pads for some sort of sport, a microphone stand and a laptop. The last thing she noticed was the most beautiful art easel that Alexandra had ever laid her eyes on. These items told her that these girls, she glanced around quickly at them before she looked to the sketchbook she held on her lap, were all talented in different ways. One was a singer, another a pianist.. And so on.

And she, the artist, was now trapped in this sick man's own version of a trophy cabinet of beautiful, and talented, women.

Alexandra, feeling anxious, opened her book to a fresh page and began to sketch. Lightly tracing lines that would soon show a beautiful fairytale fantasy, the type all children believed in, as desperately wished she were there. Safe. Not imprisoned.