Good Girls and Bad Girls

Havermouth, Present Time

The f-ker!

Aislen woke angry and sore. Her whole body ached, but her head and throat most of all. She was f-king going to kill that arsehole of a torturer, she thought.

She was lying on her back on a bed, but not somewhere private. Around her she could hear the murmur of voices, groans and moans, the rattle of metal against metal, and crying. It stank. Layers of sweat, urine, faeces and… rotten meat.

She opened her eyes and looked through a mesh of metal bars at the pressed tin tile design within the coffered ceiling high above her and the elaborate chandelier that dangled from it. Not what she’d expected having smelled the room, she thought, sitting up.

It was a large long room, with a heavy velvet curtained stage set on one end and a wall of double doors at the other. In between the two ends, rows of cages had been set, each one only long enough to fit a trundle bed and twice as wide. Many of the cages were empty, like the one directly next to Aislen’s bed,