Madam Scarlet's

"This here's Madam Scarlet's Brothel. Gustav owns a few others, but this one's the finest in all Theras!" one of my captors explains. "They'd don't let the likes of us inside. It's fer high class blokes only. Yer a lucky wench to be sent here, after what you did."

I don't feel very lucky at all. The fact that Gustav rates me as attractive enough to work at his 'upscale' bordello is no comfort. I've learned from harsh experience that men of wealth and power (Gustav himself a prime example) can be just as brutal and cruel as someone cut of a more common cloth. The building has a heavy oaken door, which one of my burly captors pounds loudly on. The door opens to reveal an equally imposing doorman. "Hey, Micah, we've got a new one for the Madam. She's a comely wench, she is."

I am prodded forward to stand before him. "What's yer name?" Micah growls.

"Hari" I whisper in response. He grabs me by the arm and drags me inside. The heavy door closes behind me, and I find myself in a small foyer with the large man. He flashes a crooked grin at me. "This door is the only way in or out of this place, and I guard it well. So, don't be harborin' any delusions of escape. Now, go ahead inside." He points to another doorway, this one very ornate.

Having no other choice, I do as I'm told, cursing the hand fate has dealt me. But I can't hold fate entirely at fault. In many ways I'm responsible for my own plight. I wasn't forced to work for the Ministry of Law as a spy. I originally went there looking for work as a copyist! Even so, if I had kept my head down and remained inconspicous, I might still be free. Taking the ledger page is what really proved to be my major, if not fatal, mistake.

Stepping inside, I find a main room whose atmosphere and decor are not too different from the drinking club where I was recently employed. Clearly, they cater to cleintele of similar status, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if there were common customers between both establishments. Along the walls of this room, are what appear to be alcoves, each covered with a red curtain. I can guess what those are used for. There's a small bar and several couches, one of which holds a disheveled looking man, fast asleep.

There's a stairway next to the bar, and my attention is drawn to it when I hear someone descending the steps. It's a woman, who looks to be in her mid-50s, with red hair just showing flecks of gray. She's wearing a garish red dress, gaudy jewelry, and a disturbing amount of makeup. This can only be Madam Scarlet herself.

"Well, it's about bloody time Gustav sent someone new." she says without preamble, or even bothering to introduce herself. "Hmm...yes, you're quite lovely, and such pale skin! You'll be very popular, I'm sure. Our clients expect only the best, I'll have you know."

I sigh, giving her my name. As I've looked around, I've noticed the distinct lack of escape routes. I'm sure there must be other ways in or out, but it will take time to learn them. They'll be bound to keep a close eye on me the first few days at least. I don't rate my chances of rescue very high either. Sure, Cornelius knew I was working at Gustav's party. How long will it be before he gets worried when I don't show up to give my report? A day? Two? And even so, and he launches a search, he'll have no idea where I am. So, my chances of getting out of this seem very low, at least in the short term. By tonight I'll have to...to...no, I don't want to think about that! Tears well up in my eyes despite my efforts to hide them.

"Oh, come on, don't start crying on me." Scarlet says. "I don't know why Gustav sent you here, and to be honest, I don't care. But you're not leaving, so you'd better start dealing with it! Let's get you a nice hot bath and a spot of food. It's early morning, we won't have any customers for a few hours yet." Despite her admonishment and telling me to basically just get over it, her voice contains no trace of malice or condescention. It's simultaniously comforting and disgusting.

1. I accept her offer of food and a bath, and try to come to grips with my situation.
2. I try to pretend sickness until I can think of something else that will get me out of this (it's not that hard, since I feel a little queasy already)
3. I stand my ground, refusing to cooperate, though I fear I'm just putting myself in line for another beating.

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree