Chapter 41 Paralysed
Ariel
“You know, your set of girls this year are quite literally dumb… or maybe it's because we didn't give you enough time. You all left good hiding spaces; I'm talking about the red velvet room, the white room, the mirror maze. Like, damn, Mr Malone went all out with the illusions this year. Only for you guys to choose the worst places possible.”
He let go of my hair once we got to the chandelier at the center, his hand going around my nape instead. He squatted and pulled me close till our faces were just inches apart. “It's the drugs, isn't it?”
I could barely control the spasms that went through my body from just pure fear alone.
“Ah, I’ve always said the drugs make this less fun, but apparently, it's too risky.” He scoffed and used his thumb to make a trail through the tears that kept running down my cheeks. He took it to his mouth and tasted it. “Fuck.”
“I wanted us to have a lot of fun. In fact, I'd imagined everything I would do to you from the first day we met, but that fucking old man had to call dibs on you.” He stuck his tongue out to my neck, his hand pulling my head back till my neck was on full display and he made a trail down to my ear and took my earlobe into his mouth.
I would have crawled out of my skin if I didn't feel so paralysed. “I plan on taking a souvenir, though," he whispered into my ear. “A little something to tell those elders to fucking suck it.”
A shaky whimper gushed out of me when a knife suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Oh my God!” I sobbed when he pressed it to my neck.
“What should I take? An eye? A finger?” He gasped as if he had been hit with a bright thought suddenly. "How about like a portion of your skin? I could sterilize it and turn it into something, like an artwork.” He gasped again. “Am I going to be an artist?”
At this point, I already felt resigned but still couldn't stop crying. Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my neck. He suddenly pulled the knife back with a loud chuckle. “Just kidding. Oh my God, you should have seen your face. That would be the better artwork.”
He stood up and sighed, leaving me momentarily to curl up on the floor in a foetal position, and he said. “Let's get you to your old man. I need to get back in the game.”
I was dangling over his shoulders when he stepped out of the room, his hands up my ass, and an unexpected number of spectators staring in the hallway as we passed. I raised my head slightly, hoping desperately that one of them would help. I even mustered up the strength to scream, "Help!" But they didn't.
They only stared, some type of mask covering their faces, which I only now saw. We came to a stop when a door suddenly opened up beside us. A pair of leg stepped out, followed by a…
My stomach dropped when I saw the girl crawl out beside him. Oh my God.
She was naked, obviously scared, with all the tears running down her cheeks, and she had a leash wrapped around her neck which the man used to pull her forward with.
It was then it dawned on me that they were all in on it. They were all hunting us and using us as this form of twisted entertainment for their pleasure. The chuckle I heard next confirmed that thought for me, making my insides twist into knots.
“Caught a runner already?”
“Yes. Such a shame that she's for the old man.”
"Oh, she's the one?” I stiffened, taken aback when a pair of eyes suddenly bent over to peer into mine. “She's a beauty.”
“I know.”
“Well…” he took his eyes away. “I'm going to go have fun with this one. I mean, that's the least we can do with these dumb bitches, right?”
“Right?” They laughed again and made a loud sound that made me flinch, I'm guessing with their hands.
Then we moved on, like a butcher taking a lamb to slaughter.
The room he took me to was at the far end of the hallway. It was a normal bedroom this time. Pristine white and squeaky clean with a king-sized bed in the middle of the room, which he threw me on. Then he ordered. “Stay!” Like I could get away even if I tried.
I was still feeling so weak even though a bit of strength had gotten back into my limbs; the hallway was infested with a bunch of like-minded people with the same twisted goal, and we were in the middle of the ocean. Where was I meant to run to?
I flinched but couldn't find the willpower to resist when I felt him grab my hand a moment later. He attached it to something at the headboard. I should just have accepted my fate that day I met Vincent and died. He did the same to my other hand.
“Now…” he muttered, going round the bed to the dresser, where he grabbed something, and then he came back to me. “...a little something to calm your nerves.”
I didn't even get to see it before I felt that familiar sting in my neck again. My head lolled to the side.
“Don't fight it, don't fight it…” I heard him say as my mind started to get fuzzy, but not enough to feel like I was passing out.
“That's it.” He said, running his hand up and down my thighs. “Yeah.” His hand grazed against my underwear, making me reel with such familiar disgust; I made to move my legs on instinct. But it didn't move. None of them, or my arms, or head. The only thing I could do was blink, and that made another wave of panic rush through me.
What's going on? What did he do to me?
I couldn't move at all, yet I could feel his hands on me. My legs, my neck, my chest. He only moved away after another violating touch to my inner thighs, and then I was left alone in the room. I don't know for how long.
I just lay there, feeling the fear, panic and familiar utter helplessness, unable to do anything about it. I moved my eyes swiftly to the side when I heard a door suddenly open, my eyes blurry with tears.
It was General Yuri. "Hey, beautiful.”