Page 16 of Ethereally Tainted

As I scan the unfamiliar area, I discover a combination of a reception and a waiting room, with many chairs arranged in neat rows. No one is in here except for the three of us, and the reception, screened off with unbreakable glass, is just as abandoned.

There is dread coiling in my stomach, and I immediately step back to try to escape whatever I’ve gotten myself into. There’s an unfathomable feeling inside this place. A sense of unease sets off mental alarms in my head, telling me to run in fear for my life. That’s what I’m best at; running for my life. Or at least I was before I was sent to Grimhill Manor. I seem to run from problems rather than face them.

Without thinking, my body instinctively moves away from here, as if I believe I could escape somehow. I bump into what feels like a solid stone chest, and the snarl of disapproval behind me tells me I’ve been confronted by a very furious guard. It’s as if he can read my mind, because as soon as he notices the change in my demeanor, he forcefully twists both my arms behind my back, causing me to wince from pain before securing them to some metal that clinks when they come in contact with each other.

Fuck! I can’t handle handcuffs.

Fearful memories race through my mind, and my breathing comes in short, panicked breaths as I plead for someone to save me from my own thoughts. Though I’m not even sure if I am pleading out loud or just doing it inside my head. As we draw nearer to the white door, the walls seem to close in, and a smell of fear and sweat fills the air, amplifying my panic.

“Wing three is here. That is all you need to know for now.” Mr. Ricci’s voice grows louder and more authoritative, and a chill of unease trickles down my spine.

Even in the vast open space, the air hangs heavy and thick, creating an oppressive atmosphere. My only choice is to escape this place because the anxiety of the unknown only exacerbates my apprehension.

If only I were given the chance to plot my escape.

Mr. Ricci doesn’t say another word to the guard or me during our walk. As we make our way through the seemingly endless corridor, I can’t help but notice that every door along the walls has a number carved onto the top. When I look up, I can smell the faint aroma of paint emanating from the polystyrene squares, arranged in a neat grid across the ceiling.

This corridor is empty, as it was at the reception, and it seems to be nighttime outside. It’s the only reasonable explanation for why nobody is here. However, if I am in the hospital because of an accident, it feels weird to be restricted from moving my arms with handcuffs.

“What am I doing here?” I ask in as steady a voice as I can manage, despite feeling the tremor in my vocal cords.

When Mr. Ricci turns and stares into my eyes, I can’t help but feel uneasy; the wicked smile on his lips only amplifies the feeling. Rather than responding, the guard grips my hands so hard that I can feel the pain radiating through my arms, and I cannot help but yell out in agony, which only makes him laugh.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, which he hears as he hardens the grip even further.

The heaviness of my frustration over this whole situation becomes evident as it fills my body, and I know that if my hands weren’t cuffed, I would fucking act on my impulses to kill the bastard. Well, thebastards.

Both of them can die for all I care.

We walk through the corridor, the fluorescent lights flickering in the darkness, tension fills the air. It feels more as if I am being led to my execution.

What the fuck is this kind of place?

As I walk through the halls of this, it’s impossible to miss the stark contrast between this hospital and the one I visited before Grimhill–no beds lined the corridors, no nurses chatting in the hallways. It is void of any standard hospital equipment.

I cannot think about that time before Grimhill. It’s too painful

I am jolted out of my thoughts when Mr. Ricci pulls out an ID card and swipes it against the door lock. The guard removes my handcuffs with more force than necessary, and I want to insult him to make myself feel better. Before I can reach that point, I’m shoved into a room, the door clicks shut behind me, and I’m left alone in the quiet with nothing to do.

I spin around and slam my fists against the door, feeling the cold surface against my hands. “Hey, asshole! You can’t lock me in here.”

I keep hitting the door with my fist, the only sound being the guard’s cynical cackle. It’s not one filled with amusement but rather one of wickedness.

“You shut the fuck up before you end up in an even worse place,” he threatens me with a low voice, causing shivers to run down my spine at the venom.

Then both he and Mr. Ricci are gone, and I’m left alone with my own demons, making me wonder once again what kind of place this is.

Chapter 6

Naya

When they took meto this room the night before, it was impossible to take in my surroundings. Once again, they threw me into a space full of darkness, which seems to be their obsession. Because of that, I couldn’t see anything past my fingers and couldn’t locate a bed. I was too exhausted to find it, so I drifted off to sleep, despite lying down on the rough and uncomfortable floor. My back is screaming at me in protest of the three nights I spent sleeping on the floor.

Yesterday, I was submerged in a pitch-black void, with the only sound being Mr. Ricci and the guard’s steps as they left me without turning a light on.

I rub exhaustion from my eyes, squinting as I take in the bright light streaming through the otherwise barred windows. Located in one corner of the room is a single bed with a bedside table crafted out of a material that resembles plastic, placed right beside the bed. Since there’s only one bed in here, I assume I don’t have to share this room with anyone like I had to at Grimhill, but I cannot tell if that’s a good or bad thing. I felt safe before when I had Everlee in my room, as if she could save me if something happened while we were sleeping. But now I will be left fending for myself, but I guess that’s a good thing because I don’t need anyone else on my conscience.

I slowly lean back against the wall, feeling stiffness in my neck and back as I sit up from the floor. The bed looks so comfortable, and the mattress whispers my name, begging me to lie down, but my body is too fatigued to move. The only issue with the bed is that it doesn’t have any proper duvet or sheets like the ones provided at Grimhill. Instead, the blanket is made from a much thinner and airier material.

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