Page 21 of Ethereally Tainted

I swear to god, if that fucker says one more thing to prove his disbelief in me, I will literally bash his head into the wall.

“Why am I here?”

When he clicks his pen several times, it makes such a strange sound that I find myself wanting to run away from here, or better yet, poke out his eye with it, to avoid this noise.

“I’ve already told you the reason. It was after an accident. End of discussion.”

With a loud thud, I slam my palm against the desk, causing all the items on top of it to rattle and the table to move slightly before I stand up without waiting for permission. I don’t give a fuck about his opinion.

“Bullshit,” I shout, but he seems all too unfazed, as if he has done this a million times before, which only increases my annoyance.

“Sit down.”

I can hear the poison in his voice that tries to terrify me into submission, but I won’t give him anything, staring at him until he clenches his jaw in satisfying fear. With determination, I stride to him and grab his collar with a tight grip as his rolling chair creaks beneath him. The devil-looking man does not even resemble anything remotely threatening up close, and while I begin to strangle him with his own collar, his eyes shine with a pleading fear that I am about to induce. He pleads for his freedom, and I can’t help but curl my lips in amusement at his attempts.

The pathetic old man is holding me captive here, yet he’s cowering at me. It’s laughable, truly.

I’m not sure where the strength to hold him up is coming from, but adrenaline pumps my veins like a drug as rage thrums inside me, red hazing my visions until I see the shadows taking over, turning the red into a darker shade.

The color of blood.

I’m in a confused state of mind, completely losing my sanity by forming images that are not even there.

My grip on him is so tight that he can no longer breathe, yet I cannot control the intense aggression that has taken over my body at this moment. I have been treated as a child and consistently underestimated my entire life. I am fucking sick of everyone treating me like a puppet on strings, playing with me as if I’m a broken and fragile doll.

Even though they are audible, I cannot make out Mr. Ricci’s grunts of pain; they seem too far away for me to discern. His face becomes a beautiful and pallid white, almost like the ghostly figure of a spirit, and I start to feel more relaxed, as though I’m coming down from a drug-induced high.

In the blink of an eye, I find myself pressed against the cold, hard surface of the floor, and I can’t help but giggle. I feel so fuckingfree. The terror I inflicted on Mr. Ricci lingers within me, providing me with a sense of strength and control while also helping to alleviate the pressure I feel in my chest.

He fearedme.

The odor of sweat in my lungs and mold infiltrates my nose, causing me to feel nauseated by its repugnance. I unsuccessfully attempt to free myself from the guard’s clutches behind me. Emilio Ricci stares down at me with a smile that is anything but friendly, a wild fascination in his eyes as he looks at me like I am some fucked up science project he wants to devour.

Fuck this. No, fuckhimfor taunting me.

“Let me go.”

I curse out, wriggling more, but to no avail.

“Not happening, sweetie,” the guard grunts, and before I know it, something sharp is pressed against my neck.

It feels like a needle, and something fills my body as it pierces my skin. I’m experiencing extreme pain on one side of my neck. It shouldn’t feel like this. It is like a liquid that flows through me, and the panic clogs my mind before the shadows turn black again.

And then I’m left alone in the suffocating darkness, waiting for the monsters and nightmares to devour me whole.

Chapter 7

Naya

My body feels hot,way too hot, and I’m almost sure that if someone tried, they could boil water to make tea on my skin. Despite my eyes only being partially open, I still feel the emptiness of the darkness in front of me. My mind drifts away to the basement, suddenly looming before me, shrouded in total darkness and palpable fear.

Everything in my body aches, every muscle a burden to move, and even though I’m lying down, it still feels like I’m about to fall from a hundred-meter-high skyscraper. My body shakes with the onslaught of cold sweat, feeling the last energy in my body pouring out. I’m neither cold nor hot, but both feelings make my body shiver, trying to decide whether to shiver or sweat. It’s a turmoil of emotions where one second, I want to pull the non-suffocating blanket over me in an attempt to warm me, but the next moment I want to throw it out on the floor, as I’m sweating too much.

As if that wasn’t enough, I have a severe headache, and at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me if my head decided to actually explode. My thoughts drift to the possibility of the staff finding my flared head in my room, how shocked and panicked they would be, and that thought fills me with amusement.

I feel the exhaustion and grogginess, and it reminds me of that wild night out when I partied until five in the morning, coming home completely drunk, and the sick feeling of being hungover the next day and throwing up in the bathroom. Not exactly a pretty sight, and my grandma grounded me for an entire week.

In a flash of blindness, all I can see is the plastic chair, desk, and bed combined into one. It looks like the chair has gotten inside the table, and they are now the same entity. When I try to stand up, the room spins around me so rapidly that my feet are swept from beneath me, and I collapse back into the bed. A loud, frustrated groan escapes me as I lean against the textured wall beside the bed.

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