Page 83 of Ethereally Tainted

“Not yet, dear.”

I fucking hate that nickname.

“You see, Frederick Grimhill sold you to me.”

When I see his face light up with joy, the chill of fear runs through my body.

“A great amount of money, too. Just like your mother sold you to him. It seems like you are worth so much.”

His lips are curled into a sinister smirk, and I feel a wave of nausea overtake me, my head spins like a hurricane.

“Can I go now?”

“Did you enjoy seeing him die?” Mr. Ricci grabs the papers again and gathers them together with the other papers in a pile before putting them back in the portfolio. When he looks up at me again, a breath of air escapes me, almost like a whimper or a gasp, because his gaze is so dark that it reminds me of the night. Not a peaceful night, but a night full of nightmares and children screaming from torture. A shudder skates across my skin.

“How did you feel when he died? Relieved? Happy?” The question taunts me, trying to dig out the deepest and most sinful thoughts inside my mind.

Of course I was relieved when he died. That man didn’t deserve to live, not after all the pain he caused children throughout the years. But admitting it out loud means I’m as sinister as him, not deserving of anyone.

“How did you feel?” Mr. Ricci presses me, trying to force out the question, and I feel the on-growing panic.

I cannot admit it because if I admit it, I will be doomed for all eternity.

I don’t deserve anything, and tears spring to my eyes.

Mr. Ricci stands up, his frame towering over mine as he walks up to me, and I am still cuffed to the goddamn table.

“How did you feel?” he asks again, and my brain grows tired of all the repeated questions.

What is his fucking problem? Can’t he see my suffering? I want to tear this room apart and let out my anguish through an ear-piercing scream.

He takes a step closer, his position right by my side, however, I refuse to look. I lower my head, shutting out the world as I try to block him from my mind, hoping not to be overwhelmed by the feeling of panic. But, when he leans in further, so close that his breath sweeps across my face, I can no longer tolerate it.

“I fucking felt relieved, Happy now?”

Anguish settles deep within me as the words are now out in the open.

I’m a terrible human being, wishing death upon another and enjoying the kill.

With my response, it seems he has reached his desired outcome, so he releases me from the cuffs and ushers me out of the room. Before he lets me out completely, he says something that widens my eyes.

“Congratulations, you passed the initiation for the new program. Rebecca did not.”

As I stare at him dumbfounded, my heart pounds inside my chest, and my face shows shock. What the hell did he mean by that?

That only indicates one thing I already knew; Rebecca did not kill herself.

I feel too exhausted and emotionally drained to retaliate, even though I want him to feel the same pain he inflicted upon me.

The bald guard grabs me with force before dragging me to my room.

All emotions take over me when I’m alone, and I’m spiraling down to the bottomless hole that has become my hell of emotions.

Chapter 31

Naya

I hear glass shatteringbefore feeling pain. In fact, it takes a whole sixty seconds before I sense the impact of my skin tearing apart from my knuckles. Feeling pain is an inherently beautiful experience. It’s like listening to enchanting music that flows through and deep within the scars as they penetrate each other and are interconnected. There is a prison within me that I cannot flee. My mind is a prison in itself, a dungeon that I cannot escape, and my emotions only make everything worse. It would be so much better to feel nothing.

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