478 Earth's Version of Hell

Styles was unsure of what he was feeling when he heard what Chris just said. His mind churned at the so many different possibilities that he thought of. "What? I don't… Wait… Katherine isn't… Don't tell me she's…"

Chris huffed. "Just read."

Not knowing what he would find out, Styles's heart started to race. How disturbing would it be if he would find out that Katherine was Chris's long-lost sister? A shiver ran down his spine.

Pulling his gaze away, he looked down at his screen and started to read the write-up. Styles realized that it was actually an online blog of a Russian adventurer and the post was written several years ago. In his post was a list of mysterious town cases on the places he had visited. In the list, the town of Vyanetsk was included and Styles focused on that item.

When he visited the place, he interviewed some locals and ended up learning about a few incidents that happened in the past, so he did some research. The blogger included a photo attachment of a local newspaper that he found from an online newspaper archive. 

Several cases of missing children were reported about twenty years ago. It started with one child missing one afternoon and at first, the police thought that it was a kidnapping case; which was why they did a search party and waited for a 'ransom phone call'. However, there was none, and in the next few weeks, the cases grew until there were already nearly fifty children missing—not only in Vyanetsk but also from the neighboring towns.

The locals panicked and the parents did not stop looking for their children. They had searched everywhere but did not find them; the kids just disappeared. One couple had two children, a boy and a girl, and both of them were missing. The couple did not stop searching for their kids and visited the police station every day until one day, a fire broke out of their house that killed them. It did not say on the article how the fire broke out, but below the picture of the burned down house were the words that said: 

House of Mr. and Mrs. Melnikov—parents of the missing children: Kristof and Karina

"So…" Styles snapped his head towards Chris who kept his gaze locked at the glass of water in front of him. "Are you saying that you're Kristof, Karina is your sister's name, and that your real last name is Melnikov?"

Chris turned his head to look at Styles but did not say anything, so the latter asked further, "Why were you and your sister missing? And those kids? What happened?"

Looking away again, Chris looked as though he didn't want to say anything more. It was as if the mention of his past still hurt him to this day that he didn't want to talk about it. It had been so many years ago, yet until now, the distant memory was still his nightmare.

"Oh, shît," Styles cursed. "Human trafficking?" He looked at Chris, whose face hardened at the mention of the term. "Is… this true, Chris? I thought you came from the orphanage?"

Without raising his head, he subtly nodded. Styles swore that it was painful looking at him as he tried to find the words to explain further.

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess it was trafficking. My sister and I were walking on our way home from school when a black van stopped next to us. I was holding her hand when it just slipped out of my grasp…" He swallowed, a surge of emotions suddenly overwhelmed him as he recalled the terrifying memory. "And she was being hauled inside the vehicle. I went after her but they pushed me away. I pushed my way inside until one of them yelled to take me as well.

"There were a couple more kids inside the van too. Soon, I fell unconscious after they rubbed a cloth on my face. When I woke up, I was in a very dark place… It smelled so bad like a mixture of piss and vomit…" He sighed, not wanting to recall how awful it was. "I could hear nothing but the cries of other children surrounding me. I panicked and I screamed for help but the boy next to me told me to stop or the men will come back to beat us up…"

~

"Karina! Where are you?" a young boy cried in Russian.

~

Chris heard his own voice from the memory that flashed in his mind—he was calling for his sister in the pitch-black room. He couldn't see anything at all. His feet were icy because his shoes were gone and the soles of his feet touched the metal ground.

~

"Kristof? Kristof! Help me, I'm here!" a young girl sobbed in reply.

~

The lump in his throat was hard to swallow and he blinked his reddened eyes fast. Clearing his throat, he continued, "I realized that we were inside a container van. It took me a while to find my sister in the dark because there were many children inside. We were all hungry and cold and we didn't know how long we were there. It felt like forever…"

"How did you get out?" Styles probed, his voice all gentle and laced with worry.

This was one of the reasons why Chris didn't want to talk about his past. He hated being pitied. Shifting in his seat, he shrugged. "Honestly… I don't remember much. I just knew that we were in there for a long time. The journey was harsh and food came once or twice a day. And just… one day, there were gunshots firing everywhere outside. The door opened and there were several men in tactical suits with guns in their hands. We were so relieved to know that we were rescued. They let us out and moved us to a bigger place. It was only then when we learned that we were already in Alaska."

Styles and Felix exchanged looks, and the latter muttered, "If you reached Alaska… Then the trip must have been so long…"

"Like I said, it felt like we were in there forever—Earth's version of hell." Chris ran a hand across his face.

"Those people who rescued you. Who were they?" Styles wondered.

"I have no idea. I was too young to know and we were placed in a huge room, so we didn't really know what was going on outside. I only understood very little English then, so there wasn't much we could do except wait. It was better there—at least we were given thick clothes... had mattresses to sleep on, and were able to eat three meals. Over the next few days, the children who were with us would be collected out of the room in groups and we wouldn't see them again. 

"When it was me and my sister's turn, a lady who spoke in broken Russian asked us questions about our family and where we came from. We answered them, hoping that they were going to find our parents and would send us home. Then, they made us ride a bus that brought us to the orphanage. It wasn't until a week later that the same lady came by and told us…" He looked down and let out a long sigh. "...she told us about what happened to our parents."

The room was quiet. Neither Styles nor Felix knew what to say after listening to his story. Even Gus, who was on the other side of the room, heard everything and he also didn't know how to react.

"You still think I'm making this up?" Chris arched a brow.

Styles swallowed. Who would make up such things?