Page 96 of Ethereally Tainted

Perhaps if it were poisoned, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing because at least then I would be free of the horrendous memories I have of my life.

I savor the deliciousness of the sandwich; the butter dripping into the bread mixed with cucumber and tomato, enhanced by the salt, creates a flavor I haven’t tasted in years. As exhaustion creeps in, the light in the room gradually fades away, leaving me all alone in the darkness as I snuggle underneath the comfortable and cozy blanket. I find myself in the clutches of loneliness, allowing all of my feelings to become one and the same.

I’ve always been a loner, never having to worry about anyone else but me. Ever since I met Grey, I came to understand the strength of not being alone; even though he’s not here, he still has a piece of my heart, and that part of me feels like a heavy burden at this moment.

And it hurts.

It hurts so fucking much because he isn’t here to kiss away the pain or make this better. I understand that I can’t depend on him, that I have to have an inner strength of my own, since ultimately, there’s only one person I can depend on; myself. Yet my heart can’t stop thinking about him. All of these feelings that I cannot identify are unwanted, I don’t desire any of this, I would prefer to be as apathetic and detached as I was while living at Grimhill Manor since the pain wasn’t as awful then. But he made me feel again, Grey made me feel. And now he isn’t here to stitch together the broken pieces of my heart he stole, claimed for himself when he claimed my very being.

As I succumb to the weariness taking hold of me, an ache fills my heart, and I curl up into a fetal position under the blanket, letting the emotions wash out of me through tears.

Chapter 36

Naya

Three days.

Three days is what it takes before the doors to all the rooms automatically open. The doors and lamps have been programmed to operate on the same electrical system, allowing them to open at the same time and the lights to turn on and off when I am awake. Despite the pleasantness of the room and its comfort, something is not quite right. I know this is simply an illusion to create a sense of security. It’s a mind game, and I won’t fall for it.

The door to my bedroom has been locked every morning for the past three days, preventing me from leaving. Every morning I come here and find the same sandwich waiting for me in the small gap in the wall. I don’t know who fills my stomach, but I’m thankful I no longer have to suffer the agonizing pangs of hunger. Every morning, lunchtime, and evening, a meal mysteriously appears in the slot in the wall, almost as if it’s delivered through a hidden food elevator.

I can’t help but feel a chill run down my spine as I ponder whether Grey is alive. He looked so disheartened and broken the last time I saw him, and that sinks my heart. A part of me finds it even more surprising that I could have such feelings for someone else, but I miss him immensely. I never imagined I would experience such strong emotions, but Grey has somehow managed to unearth feelings I intended to keep hidden, and now I am dealing with the repercussions of having to feel again.

After devouring the sandwich, I trudge to the closet. The dresses here are better than those at Grimhill Manor, but they still aren’t something I would choose. After choosing a simple light gray dress with long sleeves that doesn’t have a tight fit around my body, I put on black tights. Knowing that the cold will soon envelop me as soon as I step out of here, I do whatever I can to ensure I’m prepared and protected. I am getting out of here today, and I hope like fuck that I’ll be able to find Grey.

“Doors will lock in one minute. All dolls must proceed to the parlor room.”

As I quickly get dressed, a robotic female voice comes from the speakers, ringing out through the room in a warning. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I stand in front of my door, not knowing what lies ahead. With a clicking sound, I push the handle down, and the door slides open, my steps unsteady as I walk out of the room.

The scent of perfume and hairspray lingers in the bright, narrow corridor, occupied only by girls no older than their mid-twenties. The way everyone behaves so robotic and devoid of humanity gives me the chills, it’s something that I can’t help but notice. Despite their lack of individual personalities, they all move automatically, equally beautiful in their own right. They have ensured they are in tip-top condition, with their hair combed and just the right amount of makeup to highlight their beauty.

I stand still for a second outside the door without moving a single muscle as I stare in disbelief, unable to comprehend what the hell I’m seeing.

The girls all proceed silently down the corridor, some in a single line and some grouped, while the speaker’s voice continues to announce that they are headed toward the parlor room.

“Excuse me?”

I gently touch a girl’s shoulder, trying to get her attention, but her gaze remains focused ahead, continuing to walk as if she hadn’t noticed me. In fact, no one seems to pay me any mind as they keep marching forward while hurrying to the parlor room. I struggle to keep up with everyone, my heart thumps feverishly in my chest, looking for a place to flee. Upon arriving at the small opening where two corridors connect, a group of men walks toward us on the same mission as the women. I strain my eyes, trying to spot Grey among the throng of people, but it is futile as I have no idea if he is even here.

Suddenly the speakers erupt with a warning sound that repeats continuously. The people around me momentarily forget their feigned lack of personality as shock fills them.

“Warning, warning. Proceed to the parlor room.”

In the blink of an eye, the room fills with chaos and loud, booming male voices. My eardrums are pierced by the constant alarm sound, which seems to echo and grow louder. Even during the chaos of the mass of people–estimated to be at least a few hundred–I can make out two guards further down the corridor, holding a shrieking and sobbing young girl in a grip, tears streaming down her face. Numerous anxious murmurs travel around the corridor, eventually turning into screams of surprise and horror as the guards enter the area, quickly apprehending anyone who even glances in their direction.

I’m stuck in place, unable to move as my gaze rests on the metal door further along the hall, which looks eerily similar to the one in Dankworth’s basement. I’m overcome with a sense of urgency as I understand what I must do.

It’s now or never.

I take slow, calculated steps, my eyes darting around the corridor, careful not to disturb anyone scurrying to the front, and then I make a beeline over to the gleaming metal door. I’m clinging to the faint hope that this door will offer me a chance to survive, even if it doesn’t lead to the outside world. This is preferable to the unknown terrors that likely hide in the parlor room.

As I near the door, noticing the darkness lurking behind me, I hear a voice. It’s a familiar one that calls me home, and an overwhelming sense of relief fills me. I quickly lose the feeling when I realize this could all be a mind trick.

“Naya!”

Several gunshots ring out, ricocheting off the walls as more screams are heard, and my heart pounds like a madman. I can’t be sure if I’m actually hearing a voice or if it’s my imagination, but I’m suddenly stumbling forward, feeling warmth against my skin. The scent of dark florals combined with something earthy drifts into my nostrils, evoking familiarity and tears in my eyes.

“W-what?”