Page 6 of Ethereally Tainted

In a matter of moments, my eyes settle on the spot just below, where his black, pointed shoes are visible. His shoes are so shiny that they almost don’t look like they belong here, where the floors are never cleaned, and dirt is always visible.

It is an endless sea of dirt and dust.

“Sweet little Naya, do not fear.”

His voice has several undertones that scrape against my ears like nails against a chalkboard. The way he pronounces ‘sweet’ is like a high-pitched whistle, and I can just hear how much he enjoys this.

I still don’t know what’s happened to the other people beside me. I rarely experience fear, but when I face the unknown, I can smell the scent of dread in the air. There are many benefits to not having anything to lose; you stop caring about the outcomes.

Within just a few breaths, something cold is held against my throat, and something metallic appears in the corner of my eye. It feels like a needle poking into my skin, but a needle far too big to be a small prick. I clench my fists so tightly that I can feel my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands, trying to remain still and not meet his eyes.

You cannot show any weakness, Naya.

Inhaling deeply, a shuddering breath that barely suppresses a growl, I tighten my grip on my palms, feeling the warmth of blood that soothes the tension in my neck.

Lifting my chin, I stare directly into the master’s eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

At my words, another guy in the room winces, and they all stop breathing. There has never been a defiant person in the master’s court, but I deserve to know what he did to me that exacerbated the pain I am experiencing.

“Do not worry, little Naya,” he says calmly before leading us out of the room, and it takes all the self-control I have not to punch his face.

Oh, what an amusement it would be if I could see the bruises on his jaw and watch the blood coat his teeth when his nose starts running. To see him suffer from the pain.

He always has a gun with him, though; if I act on my impulse, he will not hesitate to use it. Instead, I start picking on the small blisters on my fingers, all in an attempt to ignore the strange sensation in my neck as I try to return to normal. I feel overwhelmed, trying to sort through the chaos of thoughts careening around in my head.

What the fuck did he do to us?

Chapter 2

Naya

A sudden ringing soundhas my body jerking in surprise, causing the table to rattle as it tries to find its balance again before I’m on my feet. At moments like this, I realize how paranoid I’ve grown up to become, and every cell in my body is on full blast, waiting for the storm that comes after the calm. I’m always on guard, and this heightened sense of paranoia has been a key factor in my survival.

The ringing echoes in my head, a never-ending buzz that feels like nails on a chalkboard. Every time I hear that sound, my blood turns to ice because those only mean one thing; it’s time for another one ofhisgames.

I swallow the rising anxiety in my throat as acid burns it, and the only thing to calm myself down is to scratch the skin on my fingers, desperately trying to pick off some of the skin. It’s the only way I know how to calm myself down, the only thing that truly works.

The bell chimes louder each second and pierces my ears like sharp knives, waiting to explode into my eardrums like grenades. Sometimes, the bell reminds me of a special kind of thunder, the only difference being that this is meant to make your ears bleed.

As I look around the room, I can see the children rising, dressed in their finery, yet the bags under their eyes hint at a lack of sleep. I scan the crowd for my nosy, brown-haired friend, but I cannot spot her, and I’m growing increasingly anxious because she never misses a game. We have no choice but to join, yet she’s more afraid of not playing the game than I am.

Where the hell are you?

While my heart pumps several extra beats per second, I push myself against a wall in the parlor, out of sight of the master. Then the master appears at the front, his presence filling the room with grandeur. He is everything but that, with liver-stained arms that make him appear near his hundreds. His clothing is a far cry from his true nature, a façade of sophistication that he could never uphold.

I stay in the back, watching the children hesitantly form two distinct lines, the boys on one side and the girls on the other, their faces scared and unsure. The master never shows any regard for respecting people’s genders, as if it is his right to decide how they should identify. After he yells to get everyone’s attention, the master clears his throat, and I approach the wall closely to make myself as small as possible. Only a few more seconds before I can take a step to the left and slip out of the parlor room, all undetected. My gaze drifts over the group of girls, all looking like robots or real dolls that are motionless, as if they have no will of their own. I suppose we don’t in a place like this.

When I can’t locate what I am looking for, I scratch my wrist aggressively, causing it to gradually turn red with each successive scratch. After finally spotting my roommate–Everlee–I can feel the tension leaving my body as I glance at her motionless body standing at the back. She stands rigidly, her shoulders painfully rolled back and her spine in an awkward arch. I would have thought she was a statue if I hadn’t known she was human.

When I know she is safe, my inhale sounds sweet, and I can finally breathe without worry. Though the black and blue bruises on her upper arm show me she is anything but safe, those were not there the day before, and I feel a burning pain in my stomach at the thought of the master harming her.

“My dear dolls, please proceed to walk outside and wait for further instructions.”

A chill spreads over my body, making my hair stand on end until all I want to do is crawl out of my own skin. This man’s voice, which is so rough and dark because of all the years he has lived, holds out promises of torture.

The large gates swing open, and the cold air of the courtyard washes over everyone. I dart around a corner, my heart fluttering in my throat. I have no choice but to act now, and if the master catches a glimpse of me, I’m as good as dead.

I rush through the corridor behind me, leading to a hidden passage where all the rooms are locked for private reasons. This corridor is hidden away at the deepest end of the manor with a locked door in front of it, making it nearly impossible for the children to find it since none of them pry except me. I found this one when I sneaked after him once.

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