The Tourist Trap Ch. 01

Still puzzled, she turned to the drawers to retrieve something new to wear, noticing all of them were now shut ... Quinn was sure she had left the bottom drawer open. A crease formed in her brow as she approached and tugged on the handle. She tried the one above, then another, but they all seemed to be locked shut. A little panic fluttered in her belly as she tried one after the other, growing increasingly perturbed that she now had no access to clothes at all. In her mounting distress, she barely noticed the volume of the music had been subtly rising. Yanking the top drawer in desperation, she was startled to find that it opened; it was empty except for a black item resting in the centre. Her panic plateaued, and in her curiosity she paused a moment to peer down at the foreign object, then plucked it out to inspect it. It took her a moment to recognise it.

It was a collar. Far too big for a pet. The strap was thick black leather, like a belt; expensive and soft to the touch, but firm. At one end was a black metal clasp, the strap passing through it and peeping out the other side, with a small round hole in the surface of the metal. On the other end of the strap, a black metal jack protruded from the leather. It seemed that the metal jack on one end of the strap was to be inserted into the hole in the metal clasp, to secure it.

After her fascination subsided, it slowly dawned on her that this was being presented to her to wear. She was trapped with no clothes, in nothing but her extremely revealing lingerie and a little jewelry. Now, she was being offered a collar. A creeping discomfort set in, sharpening her senses. She became acutely aware of the music, neverending and now so loud she could barely hear herself think.

She placed the collar back in the open drawer and moved to the door to open it and call for Will. Maybe he could lend her a towel to cover up. She yanked the handle but it wouldn't budge; she pulled it down over and over but despite her furious attempts there was no give. She rushed over to the door to the bathroom and found that locked too. She was completely trapped. She yelled his name, but it was easily drowned out by the music; even as she called at the top of her lungs she could barely hear herself.

Will stared back at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face. Patting himself dry on a fluffy white towel, he admired his recent trim. The short tuft of black hair on his head was still gelled in place, a fresh fade on the sides leaving more skin showing than hair, the way he liked it. He had a sculpted look to him, thanks mostly to the well-groomed facial hair and his pronounced jawline. His brown eyes brimmed with that unique enthusiasm that comes with travelling somewhere new. His long narrow face was looking pale though. He was in need of some beach-tanning, but his dark beard did a little to add some colour to his features. He had always been bony and skinny in his youth, but he had filled out nicely in recent years, now carrying a healthy bit of weight. Given how tall he was, it was distributed in such a way that it was flattering: larger around the upper body and slanting inward towards his skinny calves. Quinn joked that he was shaped like an upside-down Christmas tree. His slim blue jeans only accentuated his shape; the white t-shirt and whisper-thin cardigan in khaki green creating quite a trendy ensemble, his sleeves rolled up so that his various beaded bracelets were visible.

Will thought he heard his name being called, but couldn't determine the source. It was faint, perhaps imagined. "Yeah?" he replied, but didn't bother to raise his voice above the music. It might be Meena and Ellen arriving, he thought. He left the bathroom to greet them, but found the hall empty. He looked around to confirm they weren't there, then tried Quinn's door which he found locked. With a deep sigh and a shrug, he returned to his sketchbook on the couch.

The girls should be here by now. Meena was always pinching pennies on her teacher's salary, so as well as insisting on a cheaper flight he suspected she had tried to brave the public transport. Even if the saving was minimal, Meena always had to do things her way. He pictured her, wedged between bickering locals on a bus, getting irritated as she often did. Struck with the urge to draw it, he flicked to a new page despite not having finished either of the last two illustrations.

Quinn grabbed up her phone from the bed, fiddling to find her messaging app, beginning to tremble from mounting adrenaline. Before she could even think of what message she would even send, she realised there was no signal. She couldn't call, text, or connect to the internet ... there had been full bars when she had been using her phone in the stairwell. She was frantic now; there was no denying that someone was toying with her. A prickly sensation raced up her back; paranoia getting the better of her, insisting that she was being watched.

Defeatedly slumping to sit on the bed, she took a breath and gathered herself. If she could just get out of this room, Will or even one of the girls would have clothes she could borrow when they arrived. That was reassuring. Being in her underwear wasn't much different to being on the beach in a bikini. It was just a very lacy, overtly sexy kind of bikini. None of that changed the fact that some sick bastard had presumably installed some elaborate mechanism to record girls on vacation undressing. Her skin crawled at the thought, and her eyes met the collar that sat in the drawer with a sinking feeling.

She returned to the door that led into the hall, slamming her palm against the wood. The music was now so loud she couldn't even hear the impact. Next she brought her attention to the touch screen and tried to turn down the music, looking for a way to adjust the volume, however the music interface had disappeared and was replaced with a full screen popup.

'Please equip the collar to unlock the door'

The words caught her off-guard. Quinn froze on the spot, taking a few moments to process it. She was paralysed, stood stock still as yet another song was spliced into the deafening track, a constant distraction of noise coupled with an onslaught of terrifying information. It fatigued her, bringing a dull ache to her temple. Her breath came in short bursts and she started to feel faint. This couldn't be real. Was this only happening to her or was Will being targeted too? Had the other girls arrived yet? Were they being trapped in the same way?

Perhaps no one else would be as eager to unpack as she had been; they might all still be in the living room together. If she could get out of here fast, she might be able to warn them.

She felt responsible: whatever was going on here, it was Quinn that had chosen this place. She had to do something, but could she really bring herself to ... put on a collar?

Pounding the door with her fist a few times in a last ditch effort to get help, she pressed her ear to the wood but heard no response from outside. She tried over and over, knowing it was fruitless, yet unable to give up. It took some time before she decided she was really going to have to concede. It was either that, or stay trapped in here and risk a similar fate for her friends.

Returning to the collar, she lifted it up between her thumb and forefinger like a piece of evidence, dangling it in front of her to get another look. Somehow she was going to have to explain all of this to her husband at some point. Would anyone even believe a story like this? The knot in her belly tightened as she considered her options, but there was really no choice at all. It was do something, or do nothing, and Quinn always chose action over inaction.

Bringing the leather collar to her neck, she took each end of the strap in her hands and slid them around to meet in the back. It clicked in place, and it was a relief to find that the collar fit fairly loosely. A small round mirror built into the wall nearby allowed her to stare back at her reflection.

Something about seeing herself this way was quite alluring; she had never dressed like this before. She had thought many times about getting fun little outfits but it had felt wrong, something for other people to do, those ... experimental types of people. Besides, her husband was quite straightforward about that sort of thing; he wouldn't approve of broaching taboo territory.

Her hands let go of the collar and dropped down by her sides in resignation, and she twisted her head left and then right for a final look at the poorly fitting item. Her eyes widened in horror as the collar suddenly tightened around her neck. The clasp at the back seemed to have some sort of motor, feeding the strap through the metal clasp to overlap itself on the inside. It was swift: the fabric fit snugly against her skin within seconds, complete before she could react. Its grip was firm, pressing slightly on her airpipe and leaving no room to even claw a finger under the leather.

This was so much worse. How could she have been so stupid? Up to now she had been forced into this horrific predicament, but the collar had been a conscious choice. Trying to tug at it only made it less comfortable, and the leather was strong and unforgiving. Fiddling with the clasp, she found no release and no give at all - it wasn't coming off.

She eyed the door, the touch screen flashing to tell her it was now unlocked. Now that she could escape, she wasn't sure she even wanted to dressed like this ... but two of her friends and a young woman she barely even knew were caught up in this mess with her; she couldn't just stand there and wait. Maybe Meena and Ellen hadn't arrived yet. How long had Quinn been in here? It felt like an age, but she had totally lost track of time in her panic. She had to hurry.

In a moment of fearlessness, she solidified her resolve and pulled the door open. "Will? Will? Are you there?" she yelled, tiptoeing out of the room and glad to put distance between her and the cacophony of noise.

"Quinn?" She heard his voice call back from the kitchen, a sound so reassuring that she rushed over, stopping dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him. He was standing in the kitchen looking through a folder, with an unfamiliar woman. No, the woman looked slightly familiar in fact Quinn had seen a photo of her in their group chat.

It was Meena's friend Ellen, staring at her in surprise and then with an appreciative smirk she gave Quinn a once-over, her slow studious gaze pausing to drink in all the exposed skin and lacy cleavage.

Will stood wide-eyed, slack-jawed, doing his utmost to maintain eye contact.

Quinn blushed at being inspected so thoroughly, and for once, no words formed.

It was Ellen who finally broke the silence. Dryly she quipped, "So you must be Quinn?"