I left the back closet, leaving the lights on and the door ajar. Standing in the office, I reached for my keys to open the door to the downstairs. The manager and the customer came into the back office and stood beside me as I fumbled with the locks.

“Having trouble there, friend?” the manager questioned as I shook slightly trying to open the final lock on the metal, sound-proof door.

“I’ve got it,” I sighed as the final lock slid open. Opening the door led to a multitude of screams echoing out into the foyer. The manager quickly rushed us in and shut the door behind us.

We descended down the spiral staircase, with the screams growing louder with each step downward. Some screams begged for food, others for water. However, a few distinct screams…usually from the new girls…begged for freedom.