Most people don't know or don't understand why people call it the Killing Floor.

Everyone that comes to bet on the fighting doesn't know the real rules or how they work. There are about eighteen girls that range from fourteen to their early twenties - the lucky ones at least - and we're kidnapped all over the states.

Some of us are even flown in from Ireland and Russia, but those girls normally don't last long. And the ones that do normally don't make it out.

I've been here for three years of my life. My name is Julian and I was one of the girls that had no where else to go so I made the decision to get in a car with the wrong person.

I've been fighting for my life ever since.

Not so much my freedom unlike the other girls here. See they're fighting to go home. Me, I fight for my meals and a roof over my head. I have to say that I've been here the longest out of all the girls.

In the Killing Floor, you fight till you can't fight anymore.

Nobody knows what goes on, cops are paid to stay away, and women beat each other to death in order to get out of the ring alive.

There's one rule while in the ring and that's to make it out alive and you win.

And yes, men bet on this type of thing.

I had expected to be here till I was done with life. Here I was wanted, needed, I had a reason to fight. I had been here so long I actually got in good with the boss man.

That was until the day that changed my life happened.

I was in the middle of a match. I was pounding the head of a woman into the ground. There was shouting and I heard men running for the door. At first I figured it was a raid that the cops hadn't been paid off enough to keep away.

But it wasn't the cops.

After leaving the woman's face unrecognizable I glanced up hearing someone shout. I seen a young guy with a Mohawk and looked to be wearing a kutte. He was looking down at me wide-eyed as some other men - a blonde and a man with scars on his face - joined to see what was happening.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I just barely heard the blonde mutter. The three of them were wearing kuttes too. My only guess was they were part of a biker gang.

"You alright?"

The blonde called down to me. I stood up from kneeling covered in blood that wasn't mine.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Can't say the same for Deborah though. She's deader than shit."

I replied looking down from the obvious dead girl and then back up to the men. They seemed uneasy and I could completely understand why.

"So what? Danny not pay you guys enough this month?"

I asked wondering if this was one of the gangs that was on his payroll. Three men just watched me as I stood down in the pit. It was about ten foot deep and was a circular ten by ten. It had about a six foot five fence around it up top so nobody could get out.

There was one way in and one way out which was up the steps to my left and out the locked gate.

"How long have you been here?"

The blonde asked again. I gave a shrug.

"Two years? You're not here for Danny are you?"

"Oh we're here for Danny boy alright."

I raised a brow. The scared man was Scottish that was a suprise. I put my hands on my hips as some more men came over to see what all the fuss was about.

"Holy shit!!"

A man with crazy blue eyes shouted looking down into the pit. A fat man and a taller guy with silver hair all looked at me.

"Jesus. She do that?"

The older man asked to the blonde who nodded. The older man waved for the door, signaling to get me out of here.

"If you are looking for Danny, don't go through his downstairs office door, it's got a rigged shot gun. Use the back door by the plastic barrels."

I told them as I seen they were letting me out. The guys were silent as I walked up the steps and the fat man helped me through the door.

"Thanks."

The blonde told me as he waved for two guys to follow him. I stood there watching as another man, gigantic even, met up with the blonde and the scared man and went in the direction I pointed.

"So, what the hell is all this?"

The older man asked. He wore a president's patch now that I could clearly see it. Sons of Anarchy Redwood Original. I looked up at him as I wiped my head from the sweat.

"This is the Killing Floor. It's where Danny pays guys to kidnap girls and women off the street. Brings then back here and had them fight to the death. Hints the name."

I explained. The fat man looked at me before he shook his head and muttered a few holy curses under his breath.

"What's your name darlin?"

The blue eyed man asked me as he walked over. Sargeant-at-Arms. I looked at him.

"Stage name is Julian Jones. But I go by Jones around here."

I told him. He gave me an odd look it was one I couldn't place.

"How long you been here Jones?"

The president asked me.

"Two years, give or take. I've been here the longest out of all the girls."

"And where are the rest of these girls?"

The president asked me. I pointed across the bay and to a door that would lead then down to the basement. Through that door and down the stairwell you'll find the holding cells. There's about eighteen girls give or take. Ages are ranging from 14 to early twenties."

I told him as the Sargeant-at-Arms just looked at me and shook his head.

"You hang tight here. Bobby stay with her. Tig, Hap, with me."

The president said as the Sargeant-at-Arms and the heavily tatted man went with him. I stood there watching them leave.

I turned to look at Bobby.

"So what now?"