Page 9 of Servitude to Serpents

But they will.It goes unsaid between us, hanging in the room.

How long?

How long has it been?

I wrack my brain, my chest squeezing when I realize I genuinely don’t know.

My eyes well over with tears as I slowly reach for a fork, my fingers uncoordinated and weak. It tumbles to the mattress. “Grandma would be mortified.”

She pushes my hands away, piling a combination of eggs and steak onto the fork before offering it to me. It’s a simple gesture. She’s here to get me healthy again. It shouldn’t mean anything. To her, it probably doesn’t, but I chew between my whimpers and silent, tearless sobs. She feeds me slowly, methodically dabbing my mouth between bites. It’s so…maternal, it makes my chest ache, knowing this is a kindness I likely won’t be afforded again.

“What’s going to happen to me?” It's such a vague, loaded question, maybe even a risky one, but I can’t stop myself from whispering it.

Her lips thin as she gathers the dishes, handing me a cup of lukewarm tea. It has a funny taste; I don’t question what’s in it. “You’ll continue your training, and you’ll regain your strength.”

I didn’t think there was a force strong enough to sour my overfull belly. “Will…will it get better?”

Her hand brushes mine briefly as she takes the empty paper cup. Such a simple touch, a kind, meaningless one, but I flinch. “You’ll harden yourself to it, and if you’re a believer, you’ll pray to stay in the House of Bloom.”

Panic ratchets up my chest, making my lip wobble. “There are worse places?”

“The Sirs will help you to harden yourself, child. There’s a method to their-“The word madness lingers heavily, going unspoken as she offers me a weak smile. “Obey.”

She exits quickly, leaving me again in my solitude, the never-ending well of anxiety and dread. My lids are heavy, a food coma battering my brain toward sleep, but I keep my eyes on the girl in the mirror. Sleep makes everything more painful. When I’m sleeping, my cunt and ass aren’t torn and raw. My body isn’t nude, my hair not soaked with urine and oil. When I’m sleeping, I’m being pestered at work by Clara. Brady is following me around the employee kitchen. I’m in my small apartment, watching Family Guy reruns. When I’m sleeping, I’m staring at Renee as her small, round face slips under the water.

Several more filling meals later, when the door opens, I’m more than a little excited to see the gentle older woman. Twice a day, I get to eat now. Twice a day, I get real soap to clean myself, proper food to eat. Two days, if I’m counting right, that my body has been left to heal. It’s when Sir's face, followed by the faces of two other men enter that I realize how silly it was to be excited about anything here. I don’t waste time crawling off the bed toward the center of the room. Not walk—crawl. I’ve always been a fast learner. My eyes are on the upturned palms in my lap as I stare at them, the dry, cracked skin despite it almost constantly being wet.

“Stand up.”

I still wobble, but it’s easier already as I get to my feet. My eyes are glued to my reddened toes as a fourth man enters the room. I immediately recognize his voice. My heart hiccups in my chest as the man from the overhead speaker steps closer. His cologne is so decadent and thick, like patchouli oil, I can almost taste it.

“The auction is in seven months. Short window. Can you ensure she’ll beready?”

Seven months…

Dread is a living, breathing thing as it takes root, almost more sentient than me.

“Actually, Sir, I had hoped I’d be permitted to keep-“

“No.”

I hear Sir’s teeth snap together, and a small relief floods through me. The prospect of the unknown is better than having random objects shoved inside my ass for the rest of what’s sure to be a miserable life, even if the unknown simply offers a different flavor of despair. I’ll almost certainly come to resent that statement.

“I have half a mind to keep her myself. I’ve yet to hear her play.” He laughs. “But I’m a greedy old bastard. She’ll make us both an obscene price at auction. I’m finding myself owing again, House Ragnar this time. Julissa’s pretentious ass snorts her weight in coke, then sees fit to start…playing with the house girls a little too hard.”

My pulse drums in my throat as they speak.

“No, she’s much too pretty to keep here. I like her innocent and light… It’s been quite endearing these past months. We’ll dress her in lilies.”

Months.

That information rattles around in my brain, because it’s not right, can’t be right. I haven’t…No.No, I haven’t been here formonths.My teeth gnaw and chew at my bottom lip, gnashing the flesh until the taste of copper tickles my tongue.

One of the other men in the group finally speaks up, edging closer. “Lilies?”

The intercom man turns back to me, leering as I shake. “The only one this season.”

“Cutting down on her training would ease the strain, as it’s so close to auction time. Especially if you aren’t planning on running her trail in-house.”

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