There is darkness within the night.

It is not the type that lingers around the clouds, blowing away the brightness of the sun and kissing the sky with sprinkles of pepper.

It is blood on hands, bruises on skin, screams for help and sighs of despair.

It is the kind of horror rushing through the veins of your neighbours, your colleagues, the ones you love.

It is the man above the woman whose breath is an inch from life and an inch closer to death.

It is in his bleeding knuckles as they crash into her eye socket once more causing it to gauge and tremble across her cheekbone.

It is in the lurch of his back as a snarl creeps across his lips that pour soot into her lungs and in return takes away her life with death's kiss.

It is in the hair he fists and drags down the street.

She kicks. She screams. She begs. She wails.

But seven entire years of life could never prepare her for where this journey would end.

Today, her mother had been murdered and today, she had been reborn.

***

"Seven shots of vodka".

A burly man slams each one down one after the other, grabs the towel from his left shoulder and dabs it across his forehead. "Always seven, huh?"

"Seven is all I have" she gasps somewhat throatily after downing each glass. At his hitched brow, she continues; "Is all I have of what I was" with that, she jumps down from the barstool, eyes the cracked mirror hanging on the wall and head towards the door.

"Seven on the dot, as per" a man slithers closer to her, his palm flat on the wall above her head as his eyes run dirty lines up and down her body.

He leans in, eyes shut as he breathes in her scent, a heady mix of powder, vodka and roses- she is so like the barrel of a gun. "How much for tonight?"

"Seven hundred even" her voice claws out of her like it fought along the way; raspy and inconclusive.

With a huff, he smacks the amount into her hand then backhands her across the cheek.

Blood like velvet pours from her swelling tongue, it lands on a clear puddle by her feet that quickly turns into a mark of her DNA.

His fingers dent her cheeks, convoluting her face into a print of his finger tips. Now she is his, marked and mounted as he shoves her into the brick wall that almost cracks her spine.

Then he is everywhere. Over her. On her. In her.

With one final kick to her gut, he watches her crumble as he's done with her.

Done with what's left of her.

"Oi, Abhira" a rough hand shakes her shoulder, "Money?"

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she opens her palm.

Counting each note, he clicks his tongue and shakes his head "Seven for your troubles" throwing a note and two coins at her, he guffaws as she flinches as one bounds off her forehead, "It is your favourite number after all".

***

"Detective, do you have a minute?"

Nudging his glasses up his nose, he crooks his index finger in a beckoning manner.

"We've been looking into the brothel on Harl's Court, we believe there's something deeper happening there".

"Like?" The man leant forward, fingers steepled beneath his stubbled jaw.

"We have reason to believe that the women there have been trafficked as children and drug mules, Sir".

"Will a reason to believe be enough evidence for a court?" He leant back, muscles straining through his shirt as he crossed his arms.

"Well no but-".

The Detective's fist smashed into the table as he spoke through gritted teeth "Then it's not enough!"

"I'm sorry, Sir, I thought, I" he stuttered out, suddenly conscious of his own breaths under the stare of his boss.

"Get out" he didn't bother to look up from his screen as the younger man scampered off with his tail between his legs.

A sharp beep broke him from his thoughts, his hand automatically gripped his phone as if second nature, a small grin curled the corner of his lips as he saw the notification.

777: Khadusmaan, are you there?

***

A graceful sigh escaped Abhira's lips as she ran her fingers over the braille keypad on her lap, pushing down on each symbol to type her message, she rolled her lips as she awaited a response from the only person she knew she'd never see but wished she could.