Page 31 of I Will Mend You

As he carries me out of the cell and into the derelict hallway, I cry out, “This is sick. You can’t just inject drugs into people’s vaginas.”

Locke sidles up to me, his blue eyes glimmering with amusement. “Not people, just yours.”

Dolly’s tinkling laughter follows me through the hospital’s arched corridor, making every fine hair on my body stand on end. Will she be there while Locke violates my body?

Panic surges, hot and thick and stifling. My cries echo off the stone walls as I thrash back and forth, my breath coming in desperate gasps, but Grunt’s grip is ironclad.

We pass open doors, revealing rooms containing contraptions I’ve only ever seen in my nightmares. Tarnished metal tables with leather straps, rusted cages, bathtubs filled to the brim with mossy water.

Ice fills my veins, and my imagination spins through a carousel of torturous scenarios. What if I get cut? What if Iget infected? I choke on a sob, my mind racing desperately for answers.

“I’ll take the pills,” I scream. “I’ll eat from the dog bowl. Just don’t do this.”

Grunt carries me through a set of double doors and back into the large hall from the night before, which is now arranged into multiple sets to resemble some of the rooms we passed. Four new men in overalls who weren’t there last night carry pieces of old equipment into the compartments, adding touches of authenticity.

My stomach roils. I don’t know if I should be revolted that the strangers don’t give a shit that a woman is being brought here against her will or relieved that I’ll be tortured with new props.

Grunt walks to a set lined with browning paper that mimics the hospital’s crumbling walls. In its center is a gynecological examination chair with stirrups.

Adrenaline surges through my veins as he tries to place me on the apparatus. I ball my hands into tight fists, my nails digging into my palms.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice already hoarse from screaming.

Locke chuckles. “She likes you.”

With a disgruntled noise, Grunt grabs my hands and squeezes, forcing me to release his shoulders. I drop onto the cracked leather chair with a thud.

The two other men from last night crowd around, blocking out the light. Seth, with the black hair and penetrating eyes, grabs my arms, while Barrett, with the hawkish face and messy brown hair, wrestles my ankles into stirrups.

I thrash like my life depends on it because it does. As the men place my limbs in restraints, I glance at Locke, who’s turned his back to speak into Dolly’s camera. It looks like he’s explainingthe impending procedure, but I can’t hear him through my screams.

“Cut,” Dolly yells. “Someone put a gag on this bitch.”

Grunt lumbers forward, holding a ring gag. With his free hand, he cups the side of my face and eases open my jaws. His touch is gentle, almost apologetic, but that doesn’t stop him from placing the hard silicone circle in my mouth and buckling it around my head.

The men back away, leaving me tied to the chair. I stare up into the harsh studio lights hanging from the rigging above, not knowing if my heart will burst. It’s beating so furiously against its cage that it muffles Locke’s speech.

Xero steps out from behind the false wall, his eyes frantic. A sob catches in the back of my throat. Where did he go?

“I’m here, little ghost,” he says, his fingers curling around mine. “Look at me. Can you do that?”

With a shaky nod, I focus on his pale blue eyes. Up close, they’re whiter than usual, with flecks of varying shades of silver.

“Action!” Dolly yells.

Xero flickers around the edges. “Focus on me, Amethyst.”

I whimper.

Locke drifts into my line of sight, wearing a white mask and a scrub cap. “Grunt tells me you’re being a very naughty girl and not taking your meds. That won’t do, Dolly.”

“I’m not Dolly,” I scream, but the gag distorts my words.

He wags a gloved finger. “Enough excuses. You’ve given me no choice.”

“Look at me,” Xero says.

My gaze snaps back to his pale eyes.

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