Page 12 of Tainted Serenity

Grey isn’t here with me.

And that hurts more than it should.

“Where is Grey?”

My voice is hoarse, hurting from the way I haven’t talked for days. Completely ignoring my question, he looks around the room after carefully patting my head like I’m an animal he has leashed. Perhaps I am. A doll turned into a rabid dog.

“Tell me, my dear child, does it hurt?”

Anger fills me at the way he nonchalantly repeats the question while looking down at my abdomen, as if he didn’t fucking stab me with a knife.

Saliva gathers in my mouth before I stare straight into Arthur’s eyes and spit, watching as his face is drenched in my DNA.

“Fuck you,” I hiss out in a low tone.

“Now, now. That isn’t very nice.” He tsks and clicks his tongue, his eyes darkening, his pupils narrowing from hatred and rage while focusing on me.

With a clenched jaw, his tongue pokes the inner cheek before wiping my saliva with his sleeve in an aggressive manner. Arthur grabs a handful of my hair as it tears from my scalp, all in the mission of a punishing act.

My mind protests at the burning sensation, and I try with all the will I can muster not to scream outright, refusing to show him my weakness, but it’s clear he’s not going to stop until he elicits the reaction he wants. His disgusting fingers tug harder until my scalp feels like someone has set it on fire, the pain spreading at a rapid pace.

His rage is relentless, and it isn’t soon until a silent scream tears from my throat. Finally, he releases my hair, and I slump back against the chair as if it will take me in its embrace and protect me from the horrible creature before me.

“Be a good girl now, Naya, and you will be rewarded.” He doesn’t give me a chance to snarl at him before he speaks again. “Welcome, new dolls!” Arthur’s voice booms out, making the woman opposite me flinch.

I watch as her mascara is smeared across her puffy cheeks, stained from tears that have long since dried, with her blonde hair looking unbrushed and messy. She looks right at me, calling for help in her fearful ebony eyes, as if begging me to save her.

Arthur walks up to her, his wrinkled hand touching her chin and lifting it until she physically trembles, a sinister smile filling his lips.

“Some of you may wonder how you got here, while others do not. Fear not; you are precisely where you are supposed to be.” He makes a turn in the circle, letting his words sink in as everyone keeps quiet, no one daring to speak up. “The dollhouse, where you are our playthings to do with whatever we wish.” His voice trails off into a chilling silence as he turns to look at the person beside the blonde, tear-stained one.

“You have no freedom here. Nothing that will free you from its grasp,” he whispers, which soon turns into a burst of laughter that reminds me too much of his brother. “A house that thrives on secrets and sins.”

I keep myself as still as possible, not even daring to breathe in case it captures his attention, but it’s on another woman with a cocky facial expression, lifting her eyebrows at him.

“Let the game of truth or dare begin,” he simply states. “Iris, truth or dare?”

The woman in question swallows until her throat bobs before she stutters out her reply. “T-truth.”

“Reveal your darkest, most hidden fear. Tell us what truly terrifies you.”

Iris’s gaze catches all of us; her mind seems to churn like gears at high speed. “I-I don’t know. I guess snakes?” she says, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

“Come on, you can do better.” Arthur’s voice turns into something lethal, a silent warning.

It takes multiple seconds of silence where Iris seems to fiddle with her fingers, tracing the belt tied around her upper body. She doesn’t say anything, merely playing with her fingers as if to pass the time, which clearly goes on Arthur’s nerves.

I want to close my eyes, turn away, and ignore everything that is happening in the room around me, but it’s as if an unknown force causes them to stay wide open. Within a second, Arthur has grabbed a gun from his back pocket, firing it off at Iris, who doesn’t have the time to react before her blood is smeared all over the tear-stained woman’s face beside her. A horrified scream rips from her, and I force myself to remain unfazed, though I am crumbling on the inside with the need to scream and rage.

“What the fuck?” A high-pitched voice exclaims.

I do not know who speaks; my eyes are stuck to the lifeless woman slumping against the chair with the belt tightly secured around her. It’s a horrible sight, etching itself in my memory.

“That is the consequence of not fulfilling the truths or dares,” Arthur merely states, like one would read off a menu, making me sick to my stomach.

“Jaqueline, truth or dare?”

My heart starts pounding even faster as my head whips to the side. I stare at the ash-blonde woman sitting two seats from me with her hair cascading down her face, covering her scar that runs from the corner of her right eye down to her cheekbone. All the possibilities run through my head at the realization that fucking Jaqueline ended up here, too, taking me in with a snarl on her expression. Her eyes meet mine, and there is no evidence of surprise in her expression—only pure hatred I feel in the very depths of my heart.

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