Page 25 of Tainted Serenity

The doctor closes the door behind us, and my heart rate spikes up at the sound before he shows me to an examination chair that sits in the corner of the room. I sit down with nerves having a steady grip over me, attempting to hide the trembles in my body. This chair is much more pleasant than the vintage medical chair in the other room. In front of the desk is a chair on either side, and he steps beside the chair to grab something from the drawer.

Silence occupies the room, the only sound being the drawer opening and closing before he comes over to me. He doesn’t seem very fond of talking, which is fine by me. I’m not either.

“Remove your dress and wrap this around yourself,” he states shortly, putting a towel on the chair beside the desk.

He then turns around, giving me some privacy, which I appreciate. It is a hazard to remove the dress as it is so large and unwieldy, but after several attempts, I succeed. The slowly healing wound on my stomach where I was stabbed burns, and I cannot help but let out a gasp; the pain is unexpected yet inevitable.

I glance down at my bare stomach, seeing the patch with dirt forming around it. It makes me feel dirty, too, and I cannot wait until I get the chance to shower again.

“Let’s go,” he simply says before leading me out to the corridor again, the bright light blocking my vision once more. “Every person here is allowed to shower once a week in the shower room, accompanied by me.”

We don’t go far this time, just to the room next to us that hosts a shower. The space is disgusting with mold growing in the cracks in the walls, and the stench of something sunken fills my nostrils. I have to get out of here as fast as possible. The shower room is a rather big one, with multiple stalls lining up one after the other, and it reminds me of Dankworth Institute. I gulp, thinking back to the time I walked out of the stall only to find Grey there, asking if I was okay. My heart flutters before breaking, knowing that he won’t be outside waiting for me this time.

The doctor leads me toward the closest stall, which looks like a mini booth with a closable door that I can lock. Thank fucking god for that.

“Remove the plaster as gently as you can, and wash thoroughly around the wound.”

I nod, stepping into the stall before closing the door behind me and making sure to lock it. It gives me some sort of control in this fucked-up situation.

With careful motions, I remove the plaster, which causes a stinging pain to wash over me. Tears fill my eyes that I refuse to let out as I take in the wrinkled skin around my wound. The brown color of a dried liquid has been smeared over my skin, making it become stiff and emitting a musty smell that disgusts me. I try not to gag at the mere sight and stench as I start the shower, letting the warm water soothe me before I finish showering.

Grabbing the towel, I wrap it around myself before drying up and getting dressed. As I step out of the shower stall, my eyes fixate on a camera discreetly installed in the ceiling, making unease settle down like lead within me. The lens blinks, an unnerving reminder that someone monitors my every move, and a disconcerting realization settles over me. They’re surveilling us all relentlessly, leaving no possibility of ever escaping, especially with the guards lurking in all corridors on the upper floors.

Chapter 10

Naya

They try to breakme, try to push me off a cliff, and want me to plummet to my death. All to rid the world of the evil haunting it, but in reality,theyare the evil ones. I only did what I had to do to survive. I avenged my dad because there was no other choice for me than to take the life of my mother, the one who was supposed to protect me but failed. I had to kill her, but yet she had managed to sell me to the devil, and the devil eventually caught up to me. The creature claimed my soul and chained it to a necklace, which he threw into the depths of the Atlantic, and I won’t ever get it back. No matter how much I try to fight this fucking disease inside me, it will never go away.

Tainted, stained, fucking tarnished.

I’m trapped. Not only between four walls inside a monstrous building with gothic architecture, pointed arches, and vertical propositions, but also in my own mind, which keeps me prisoner. Living inside my head is like stepping over the threshold to hell. A burning and soaring place only meant for those who have sinned.

It doesn’t help that this room is all too bright with its colors, pastel pink giving a vibrant vibe to it. It doesn’t even help that this room is huge, with comfortable furniture and a queen-sized bed, a wardrobe filled with beautiful dresses, because it is all still an illusion. Nothing is real, and that is the worst of it all.

They took me back to this room a few days ago, after the doctor had changed the bandage and made sure I showered. I have been stuck inside this room without the possibility to leave, only receiving one meal per day through the gap in the wall, just like I did before we tried to escape. Now I understand what Arthur meant by earning your meals, and apparently, I haven’t earned all of mine, leaving my stomach rumbling from hunger.

While there’s an air of mystery surrounding the doctor’s presence, as if he has a secret yet to uncover, it is also calming at the same time. It makes me believe that his tough façade is just that; afaçade. Much like my own, where I refuse to be weak in front of others, even if I am crumbling on the inside.

Shivers run through my spine, crawling to every nerve in my body, as I listen to the robotic voice echoing around me. It’s a voice I will never forget, printing itself on my mind like a permanent tattoo and making me remember the days before I was stabbed.

“Doors are locking in one minute. All dolls are to proceed to the parlor room.”

The female voice ringing through the room in a loud warning is devoid of any emotions, robotic and unmoving, only stating facts. I quickly stand up from the comfortable queen-sized bed, taking a deep breath as nerves skitter across my skin, getting the best of me. My hand is trembling as I reach for the handle, slowly opening it with a squeaking sound. I step out into the corridor, the scent of hairspray and perfume lingering in the air and surrounding every crevice of the rather narrow hallway.

There must be at least fifty other women around me, and multiple surveillance cameras keeping a watch on our every move. I have to play smart, bide my time if I am ever going to get out of here alive.

At the larger opening where two corridors meet, I see many guards lined up, confirming my suspicion that they have strengthened security here. It’s hard to keep my cool when flashbacks from the day Grey and I almost escaped wash over my mind, leaving horrible memories of him not being here with me anymore.

This time, there are only women moving toward the parlor, not males. It takes all my willpower and control I have left to force my legs to follow the other women who walk in a line, one after the other. No one says a word; silence descending over the corridor, and the mood is strange in ways reminding of a silent echo.

We arrive at two doors that are twice my height, gigantic yet magnificent. Women start piling inside the room, dutifully lining up against the walls as I follow their cue, although not knowing what is going on. There are several different scents in here; lavender mixed with the scent of roses, vanilla, and cinnamon.

I stand between two girls, one of whom has ginger hair and the other a darker brown than mine, both dressed in a gown with golden that accentuates it. I try to look at one of the girls in an attempt to get a reaction, but she does nothing but stare straight ahead, oblivious to her surroundings and just waiting for what will happen.

I swallow hard, taking in my surroundings. It’s reminiscent of a big ballroom in the shape of a rectangle; the ceiling is higher up than what I have seen before. I gape at the breathtaking room around me. It’s truly classy, even if the underpasses below are dilapidated.

Remember that it is all a mind game.Yes, this is something used to make everyone feel welcome when in truth, we are anything but.

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