I groaned as I stirred awake. I sat up on the bed. Like an unrelenting enemy, the pain greeted me once more. There was a sharp ache coming from the back of my neck. My hand shot up to my cervical area and felt bandages on it.
My breath hitched. I frantically looked around while holding my nape. It was dark. I rummaged for my glasses but couldn't find them.
Where am I?
I got to the edge of the bed and dangled my feet over it. I tentatively placed my toes on the ground, then shifted my weight to stand up. As I pushed myself to rise, I felt lightheaded. My knees buckled, so I came crashing down on the floor.
The light came on. I forcefully closed my eyes because the bright glare hurt.
Feet ran in my direction. I felt hands wrap themselves around me. I jolted back at the touch, sending a painful electric shock down my spine. My shoulders tensed, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Hey, hey, calm down. It's ok. It's ok." Dahlia's voice spoke softly beside me. "What are you doing?"
"What happened? What's going on? Why do I have more bandages?" I shot the questions as they came to my mind. My voice was still hoarse, so it hurt to speak.
"First, let's get you back to bed, then I'll tell you, ok?" She was lightly lifting my right bicep.
I nodded.
She helped me stand. I was a bit wobbly, but her grip didn't falter. She got me back on the bed, then handed me my glasses. I heard her pull up the chair that was next to the door and brought it closer to my bed. She sat directly in front of me and placed a hand on my right knee, making me flinch, so she retracted her hand back, letting out an upset sigh.
What has her so troubled?
"Don't try to move your neck too much. You've been in surgery." Excuse me? "There was a microchip inserted into your spinal cord."
"What?! Why?!" To say I was alarmed and afraid was an understatement.
Spinal cord? That means she has direct access to my nervous system! What is Mistress planning?
"According to Mistress, she called it insurance, but other than that she wouldn't give any details, so you'd have to ask her." Dahlia shrugged.
"Oh, of course she wouldn't." That statement peeved me.
"Anyway, Mistress did warn that there was a chance that you might wake up disoriented, so I'm here to reorient you whenever you need it. At any rate, are you hungry?" Dahlia spoke in an insouciant manner.
Are we really going to brush over that topic as if it were a common day-to-day occurrence? What the hell has she seen happen here?
"Not really." I responded in the same equanimous tone as her. If Dahlia was being all blasé about it, then so could I.
"Well, I don't care. You must eat. It's been more than a day since you ate, and your body needs nutrients to recover after what you've gone through and especially after the surgery. Mistress gave you a nutrients bag so that your body wouldn't crash, but she wants you eating. She said to give you food and if you said no, then we wouldn't have a choice but to force-feed you, and I really don't want to do that. With that said, I'm going to bring in a tray of food and I want you to eat at least half. Is that understood?" Dahlia was being inflexible.
"Yes, ma'am." I looked away and saw the cup of untouched red gelatin on the nightstand. I sighed heavily.
Dahlia came back in with the food. She placed it on the bedside table and wheeled it up to me, then sat on the chair, propping both her feet on my bed. Why do you place your shoes on the bed? That's nasty!
She crossed her arms and looked at me intently, waiting for me to eat.
I know I should eat, but my stomach still did not agree with me. I was going to have to shove the food down because I didn't want to think of the consequences of not doing so, mainly with the new pain coming from the back of my neck. Hesitantly, I uncovered the tray and the smell of freshly cooked beef, broccoli, and mashed sweet potatoes coupled with strawberries on the side made my mouth water.
I grabbed the spork and stuck it into the beef, then slowly brought it to my mouth. As the meat hit my tongue, the juices engulfed my taste buds. I closed my eyes, savoring the delicious umami flavor while letting out a satisfied hum.
"It's that good, huh?" For a moment there, I forgot Dahlia was in the room. She chuckled.
"Sorry." My cheeks were hot now.
"Don't apologize, that was endearing. Go on, eat up." I was surprised that there wasn't any attitude behind her words.
The more I ate, the better I felt, so I can't believe that I ended up eating everything.
"Good." She got up and slid the table away. "How about we get you showered now?" She extended a hand my way.
I whimpered, looking up at her. I haven't had the best track record with bathing here.
She sensed my discomfort. "Don't worry. I won't do anything. Mistress has everyone under strict orders to let you recover." Her hand was still extended.
"Why?" I blurted, looking directly at her. I just had to ask a question that had been gnawing away at my insides for a while now, but there was never a good time.
"Why what?" She looked at me questioningly.
I debated on whether to ask or not.
"Why do you all hate me so much?" I blurted. My mouth ran away from me again. She gently pulled her hand back, looking a little saddened.
She looked at me studiously before answering. "I don't hate you." Her curt reply left me with more unanswered questions.
"Then why do you mortify me every chance you get?" My voice broke when I tried to raise it.
The indignant glare I was giving bore into hers.
"Well, you are rude and disobedient, and you don't respect your superiors. Frankly, you're a loose cannon." She countered defensively.
"But I didn't choose to be here!" I protested, wondering why nobody gets it.
"Look," she placed her hands on my shoulders, "whether you chose to or not, the fact of the matter is that you are here, so you can either get in line and suck it up or keep bitching about it and get hurt worse. Sometimes we don't choose our circumstances, sometimes they are thrusted upon us, so it's our choice to make them work or not."
"It's not the same! I'm a slave here." My head drooped in regret at my situation.
She placed her index finger under my chin and made me look at her. "Fine then, ask yourself, do you want to survive?"
I swallowed, looked down briefly, then connected my eyes with hers. "Yes."
Her gaze softened at my response. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Then there's your answer." She replied just above a whisper.
Her eyes stared deeply into mine, they darted between my eyes and my lips. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence shared between us until she finally broke it.
She backed away from me and withdrew her hand. "Let’s, uh, let's get you showered." She cleared her throat and straightened up.
I didn't move right away, instead I peered down at my hands. I twirled my thumbs, contemplating whether to speak up. "Sorry." My voice was small again.
"Sorry for what?" She sounded a bit surprised.
"For kicking you in the chest. I really didn't mean to." I had to tell her the truth about my actions. Even though I have been beaten, tortured, degraded, and humiliated, I still felt bad for doing that whether she deserved it or not.
"It's ok. Come on." She brushed it off as if it had been nothing, of course she had already retaliated against my actions.
She helped me off the bed and kept an arm around me, just in case my balance wavered. The Foley catheter had been taken out by the time I had woken up, and the only thing I still had attached to me was the IV line, which she unscrewed.
When we made it into the en suite bathroom, I tried to protest showering alone, but she did not let me have it. Dahlia warned that she had to be there because she was going to clean the wounds, on Mistress's commands of course.
She untied my gown and carefully slipped it off me. I used my hands to cover myself as best as I could. I felt her hands gently trailing over all my bruises. I could not help but flinch under her touch, so she quickly retracted her hand.
"I am so, so sorry." Her eyes did not deviate from my dark bruises. "My anger got the best of me, of us. If it weren't for that guard, things would have turned out worse." Her apology took me aback, she did sound sincere.
What am I supposed to answer to that? Am I supposed to tell her everything is ok? She beat me black and blue! Nurse Cleary even had to assess for internal bleeding. I cannot just brush that off!
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I did not see her kneel in front of me until I felt her soft lips on my skin. Her hands pushed mine out of the way as she placed gentle kisses on my abdomen.
I trembled as her warm breath sent goosebumps rushing all over my body. My breath hitched, and my hands clumsily shot up to my face. I gulped hard as my body stiffened in unsolicited anticipation.
Her hands gripped onto my hips and drew me closer to her. I glanced away, but my eyes quickly came back to meet hers. With one hand holding tightly to my hips, her other hand started exploring my body.
Why is she doing this?
I leaned away from her, taking a small step back.
"Wait, don't pull away... Not yet." She placed more kisses on my hot skin as she pulled me in close once again.
"Please, just let me go." I implored. Her eyes showed disappointment, but she let go of me. I staggered back a couple of steps until my back hit the wall, making me wince in the process. "Why did you do that?" I defensively covered myself again.
"To atone for what I did to you." She sounded remorseful.
"With sex?!" I was incredulous. She nodded at the question. "Surely there are other ways to make amends. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Not with anybody here, not with you. I may forgive, but I just can't forget what you've done to me."
"But you did it with Mistress already!" She countered offensively.
I balled my hands into fists as they shook, thinking back to that night. My eyes watered. The realization that I let her fuck me and even begged her to, sent guilt-ridden waves crashing throughout my body knowing this was going to be a common occurrence now, and I could not stop it.
"It wasn't by choice." A tear rolled down my cheeks as my voice cracked. "If I could take it all back, I would." My bottom lip was quivering.
Dahlia had gotten to her feet and closed the gap between us. The back of her index finger tenderly wiped away the fugitive tear, then she cupped my jaw, tilting my face up to meet hers. Her other hand clutched my shoulder.
"Ok then, I promise not to touch you in a sexual manner unless I have your consent... But unfortunately, I can't promise anything else seeing as I'm still required to discipline you, especially on Mistress's command." I mentally rolled my eyes. There's always a catch.
I sighed deeply. "Sure."
"All right then, let's finally get you showered." She was satisfied.
She turned on the shower and made sure it was warm. Then, she pivoted towards me with an outstretched hand, which I took.
She kept her word. She didn't touch me inappropriately. Didn't even try. She let me wash myself but stayed close in case I began to feel unsteady. After I had bathed, she made sure to carefully clean my wounds and place new bandages on them. She dried me off wherever I couldn't reach, then redressed me with the gown, making sure to tie it in the back.
I was also able to brush my teeth, but couldn't comb my hair, so she did it for me. She was mindful of the knots that had formed and made sure to gently untangle them.
After I was thoroughly clean, she led me back to the bed. I wasn't sleepy yet, and I had already eaten, so what was I supposed to do? If there wasn't a TV or anything to read, how had Dahlia and Mia passed the time watching over me?
Dahlia claimed her seat where she had left it, right next to my bed. I thought she was going to take the chair and put it back by the door. I felt a bit awkward having her sitting there so close to me after what had happened in the shower. I know she said she wouldn't touch me without my consent, but still, I didn't feel comfortable with her there.
Without thinking about it, I just straight up asked her why she was working here, out of all places.
"Why do you want to know?" She giggled.
"Just curious. I'm not sleepy right now and there's nothing to do here, so I'm not going to just sit here and be bored out of my mind, so I might as well talk to my captors." I said matter-of-factly.
She looked pained at the last word and took a deep breath.
"Nothing special, really. It's not like I have a tragic backstory or anything. I just went to college, but it wasn't for me. I wasn't motivated with what I was studying, so I stayed all the time in the apartment I was renting with two other roommates, just hanging out and smoking weed. My grades were in the gutter. When my dad found out, he was furious. He gave me an ultimatum: I could either stay in college and graduate by paying my own tuition because he wasn't going to anymore, or I could enlist. I didn't have any money, so I enlisted. It honestly sounded much more entertaining than academia. Once I enlisted, things went surprisingly good for me, I was flourishing. I rose through the ranks and was given an assignment one day to deliver a secret cargo to someone named Dr. Raven Garnett. I thought it was weird that such a large shipment would go to just one person, but I didn't ask questions, I just did as I was told. When I arrived here with the cargo, that's when I met Mistress. She took one look at me, and she quickly asked me to work for her, said she'd double my pay. How could I resist? I accepted, and she did all the paperwork to get me transferred to her services. I must say that this is one comfortable gig."
"So, you just took on a job without knowing anything about it? That's just reckless." I scoffed a laugh.
"Look, when you're in the military you don't ask questions, you just follow orders, so why was this any different?" She answered chastely. Seriously?
"Um, are you stupid?" I gawked in disbelief. I don't know how many times I blinked wide-eyed. "You basically just sold your soul to the devil for double your pay."
"Eh, people have done worse things for much less." Well, with that splendid justification, who am I to argue?
"Oh yeah, sure, 'cause that makes it better. At any point since you started working here, did you ever stop to think that you might lose your humanity?" I tried to reason with her.
"Not really." Nope. She's a lost cause.
There was a long and awkward pause.
I looked to the ceiling, in front of me, to my left, back to center, then down to my hands.
I finally surveyed her before asking my next question. She eyed me back expectantly. "How long have you been working for Mistress?"
"Wow, that's the first time you've addressed her properly without being threatened. Looks like you've learned a thing or two." She replied cheerily. I pursed my lips to the side and looked at her over the frame of my glasses, blinking twice slowly but did not say anything back. "Going on two years now."
"In those two years, how many people like me have you seen?" I inquired.
"Like you? None." She shook her head at the same time that her lips formed an upside down 'u' shape.
"Umm, ok. Let me rephrase. How many, uh... Pets has she had." The word tasted like acid on my tongue. The thought of someone owning another person was just disgusting.
She sighed pensively. "I remember 12."
"Twelve?!" The number stunned me. "Wait, wait. You mean to tell me that she's done the same thing to twelve others before me?"
"Well, not exactly." She hesitated.
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" My eyes narrowed at her.
"All twelve others didn't put up the fight that you have. Practically all of them had submitted by the second day, too scared to act out. Mistress didn't go hard on them like she has done with you. All of them took a lot less convincing than you." She shrugged her shoulders with her palms facing up.
"So, then, what happened to them? Where are they now?" My eyebrows were knitted in confusion.
"In the jars in her office." She said plainly.
A pang of pain and disgust hit me. A couple of unbidden tears escaped me. I tried to blink the rest away.
I gulped hard. "They... They're all dead?"
"Unfortunately."
"How did they die?" I cleared my throat, trying not to pay attention to the growing discomfort on the back of my throat.
"Various reasons. Many died during the cell fights. Others died during the experiments Mistress conducted. A few didn't make it through training." She was counting off the reasons with her fingers as she was trying to remember the fate of the unfortunate souls.
Twelve people died because of Mistress's twisted ways. Twelve that Dahlia knows of. How many others came before that? What does that mean for me? I can't meet their same fate. I have so much left that I want to do in this world, but what can I do? I tried to escape, I tried to fight Mistress, I've tried everything in my power to keep going on, but she wins every time. I can't beat her. I'm weak.
More tears poured down my face. It seems that that's all I can do lately.
"So, what, I have less than two months left to live?" I huffed mirthlessly.
"Not if you do what you're told and learn how to fight well." She responded candidly.
"Just like that?" My mind could not fathom how lackadaisical she was answering.
"Basically, yeah."
I took in a deep and sharp inhale. "Then what's the fucking point? Why should I play her little games when my days are already numbered?!" Even if my raspy voice was breaking, I was shouting, the tears running hot down my cheeks. I just could not believe that in the end my life would amount to nothing. My spirit was already broken, but this was burying it deeper and setting fire to it. Was I really this powerless to change anything?
I was sobbing now. My breathing was shaky.
Dahlia's face showed pity. She stood up and wrapped her arms around me. She tried to comfort me, but what was the point? I'm nothing more than a piece in Mistress's game. I am nothing.
I cried and cried and cried. Dahlia never let go.
The door suddenly opened and, speaking of the devil, there she was looking all high and mighty, unfazed by everything.
"What's going on here?" Mistress stared at the both of us sharing an embrace.
Dahlia pulled apart from me.
"What's wrong, little one, why are you crying?" Mistress cooed.
I tried to catch my breath to reply. Dahlia did not respond to Mistress. Instead, Mistress patiently waited until I was ready to talk.
"Are you going to kill me too?" Exasperation laced my query.
"Excuse me?" Mistress side glanced Dahlia then looked back at me. She was caught off guard by my sudden outburst.
"Am I going to be another specimen in your jars?" I was speaking in between sobs.
"Oh, so that's what this is about." Realization finally hit her.
"Yes, that's what this is about!" I shouted through gritted teeth. My nose scrunched in anger. Dahlia placed a warning hand on my shoulder, signaling me to calm down.
Mistress took a menacing step forward but stopped herself. I did not move from my position when she had advanced towards me. She turned to Dahlia and dismissed her. My eyes pleaded with her not to leave me alone, but she gave me a sad look and left.
Mistress sighed heavily, holding her forehead with her right hand.
"Little one," Her right arm interwove with her left in front of her chest, "you are nothing like those other ones. You've got so much more potential to go further." Her heels slowly clicked my way. She placed her left hand on my right shoulder. "Besides, they have all helped me learn the limits of just how far I can take my experiments. I was overzealous when I first started out, and my pursuit for quick results got the best of me. Now I know that I must take things slower and reevaluate occasionally."
I angrily shrugged her hand off my shoulder and glowered deeply at her. "You murdered them!"
The hand that was on my shoulder collectedly weaved its way back over her right arm. "I did no such thing. All their deaths were either by natural causes or by some other hand, but not mine." She said coolly.
Why is she so dense?
"How can you say that? You were personally responsible for their deaths. You had them kidnapped, like you did with me. You may not have pulled the trigger, but you most certainly were the one holding the gun!" I was spitting venom. There was so much hate mixed into my tone, but I was not going to hold back. Not today.
She closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply, trying to restrain her anger. Surely, I was testing her patience. "Look, Keira, this is beyond you. The other ones were weak. They didn't perform as I had hoped. They did provide me with valuable data, but they were nothing more than another number. They didn't mean anything. Those girls had nothing on you."
"How can you say that? They were probably somebody's daughter, sister, girlfriend, spouse, friend. They were somebody!" I spat back.
She looked like she was using all her willpower to not strike me. "Not really. Before you, we would extensively research who we could pick up. We focused on the marginalized, the orphans, the people society had discarded. They meant nothing to the world."
"How can you be so heartless? They were people! So that means I'm better than them because society deems it so? Because society hasn't rejected me? What kind of fucked up thinking is that?" Tears were welling up and prickling at the corners of my eyes.
"I never said it wasn't fucked up, it was just convenient for me because nobody would go looking for them." Mistress got closer to me again. She grabbed the collar of my gown. I gasped inaudibly at her sudden action and instinctively clutched the hand that was gripping my gown. Even though I was shaking, I stood my ground. Her face was now a breath away from mine. She spoke lowly and warningly. "You're not that far off yourself, either. I know you don't have a good relationship with your mother. Your dad is dead, and the only person who would even try to look for you is your friend. How much effort do you think the police would spare in searching for you? They're too busy looking for missing children rather than an adult who might just be skipping town."
Shit, I never thought about it that way. They did go through my phone.
I opened my mouth to speak, but soon closed it. I was out of words. What could I possibly say to relieve the situation?
The fact of the matter is that I am a prisoner. My life as I knew it is gone, and I think that what hurts me the most is that nobody is going to miss me.
I was so numb mentally, physically, and emotionally. I had been crying so much lately that I did not even notice when tears started pouring again until I felt Mistress's hand wiping them away. At this point, I even let her. My life now rested in her cruel hands.
I was exhausted once more. My limbs fell limp at my side. My head dropped in utter defeat.
Mistress broke away from me to take off her white coat and place it on the back of the chair. She kicked off her stilettos, then she went around to the other side of the bed, and I felt it dip as she got in with me. Her hands pulled me towards her, turning my trembling, crying body to face her. I still let her. Why should I care?
She tenderly placed my head on her chest as she softly stroked my hair. Her other arm comfortingly wrapped around my waist, making sure not to touch the burn on my back. She held me tight, gently shushing me until my sobs were no longer heard, and my eyes could no longer remain open. The rhythmic beating of her calm heart helped put me at ease, thus I welcomed the sweet darkness that followed.