“Bastards! Don't do that!” Zia screamed when one of the men tried to take off her clothes one by one.
No one paid any attention to her screams and cries. Zia's voice was hoarse from screaming continuously for help, hoping that someone would come to her rescue from the depraved men in front of her.
They all laughed heartily, enjoying the crime they were about to commit. Their gazes were dirtier than those of dogs in heat. Zia's rebellion was futile as she had to fight five large men.
“Calm down, Pretty. We'll treat you gently until you don't want it to end,” one of them said as he stroked Zia's face.
Zia spat at the man without thinking twice, hitting him in the face. She was furious because he was the one who had intended to tear off her last layer of clothing. With her hands and feet held by the other men, Zia could only fight back using other means.
For a moment, the atmosphere grew silent. All eyes were on the man Zia had spat on. Meanwhile, the man himself glared at Zia with burning eyes, unwilling to be treated that way by her.
“Damn it!” he muttered.
A hard punch landed on Zia's stomach. Her body went limp, feeling as though her insides were about to spill out.
It didn't stop there. His hair was pulled, and his head was slammed against the wall several times without mercy. Zia didn't have the strength to fight back at all. His tears did nothing to stop their cruelty. Zia even believed that this was the end of his life.
“So you don't like being treated gently, huh?!”
Zia's body was dragged and slammed against the wall until she collapsed onto the floor.
Her vision was blurred, her entire body ached, and the wounds on her legs hadn't even begun to heal. But when someone managed to tear off the last layer of her clothing, Zia kicked the knee of the man she didn't even know. With the last of her strength, Zia still tried to preserve her dignity.
Zia's body began to be kicked, and even her face was beaten until blood flowed from her nose. Eventually, Zia could no longer move her body as if paralyzed, though her hearing remained intact.
Half-conscious, Zia heard their demonic laughter. She felt disgusted with herself as she sensed how those depraved men were venting their desires on her.
“It looks like this woman is dying. What should we do?” asked one of them, realizing Zia was in very bad condition.
No one responded. Everyone seemed confused, even showing signs of fear that they might be discovered for what they had done to a woman in the middle of the street.
“Let's just kill her. At least her mouth will be shut, and she'll never tell anyone what we did to her.” Someone pointed a gun at Zia.
Zia had given up. She wasn't ready to die, but she wasn't ready to live with the memories of what had happened to her either. She was in a terrible state, but her tears weren't for herself.
They were for Audrey, who had gone through the same thing Zia was going through now. Just like Zia felt now, Audrey must have felt the same way.
The pain and fear were overwhelming.
“Don't be reckless! If we kill her, we'll die even more miserably!” The man who had brought Zia there as a taxi driver snatched the gun from his friend's hand.
Zia glanced briefly. Her vision slowly began to clear. And deep in her heart, she would remember every one of those men's faces, even if she ended up dying. No matter what, Zia would avenge them in her next life.
“But he could report us to the police!”
“No. We need to let him die and freeze slowly. Don't even think about killing him with our own hands.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. They dragged Zia's body out of the building, ignoring her face scraping against the concrete floor, causing her to groan in pain as her skin was slowly peeled away, leaving a burning sensation that was excruciatingly painful.
Then, cruelly, Zia's body was buried in snow. The cold began to penetrate Zia's bones, and her body shivered. However, she could only see how the white snow turned red from the blood from her body hitting the snow.
All the evil men were busy gathering piles of snow to bury Zia until the ringing of the phone belonging to the man in front of Zia startled everyone.
The phone belonged to the fake taxi driver.
The man was just as startled, accidentally dropping the phone as he reached to answer it. Zia could see the screen that displayed the incoming call.
James Alexander. The name was displayed there.
“Hurry up and finish that! We have to leave immediately.”
Zia's heart stopped beating for a few moments as she processed everything that had just happened to her, and one of them received a call from her husband.
From all of that, Zia finally understood. James had planned all this to make Zia feel what Audrey had felt.
“Let's go!”
Zia grabbed the leg of a man who was about to walk away. Drawing strength from somewhere, Zia wanted to confirm who James Alexander was, who had called one of them.
“Hey, don't scare me! You look like a zombie!” Zia's body was pushed away with a kick, but she didn't budge.
“Please tell me, who is James Alexander?” Zia asked with a trembling voice.
Instantly, everyone who had intended to leave stopped and turned toward Zia, who was still tightly holding onto one of their legs with her face full, hoping for an answer.
“You don't need to know!”
“Is that my husband?”
The man smirked, released his leg from Zia's grip, and crouched to mock her.
“Yes. If you want to know more, ask him directly—if you can survive.”
Before Zia was left alone, the man's last words cut deep into her heart. Unable to cry anymore, Zia let out a small, pain-filled laugh, her wounds likely never to heal.
Zia crawled back into the building and gathered her clothes with a broken heart. She then sat in the corner of the room, curling her body to endure the pain throughout her body, shivering from the cold, terrified, and feeling like she no longer wanted to live.
Yes, James had succeeded. James succeeded in making Zia feel what Audrey had felt before, making her want to end her life.