Chapter 7 SURVIVING ISN'T LIVING
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You’ve slept a lot today,” a soft voice said gently. “Come have something to eat so you can take aspirin for your pain.”
I turned my head slowly and saw her. The nanny. The same woman who had found me broken, bleeding, and silent the day before. She stood by the door with concern written all over her face, like she didn’t know how to help but wanted to try anyway.
I nodded weakly.
Standing up felt like lifting a body that didn’t belong to me anymore. Every movement hurt. My thighs burned. My lower body screamed. I walked carefully, each step a reminder of what had been done to me, and followed her out of the room.
The hallway felt colder than before.
As we walked, I noticed the way the maids looked at me. Their eyes followed me, filled with pity, sympathy, and fear. Not curiosity. Not judgment. Just quiet sorrow.
I hated it!!.
Not like this place was new to horror. I had seen one of them get killed yesterday. Shot like she was nothing. Like her life was disposable.
So why were they looking at me like I was the tragedy?
We were all trapped here.
I sat at the long dining table, forcing myself to eat even though my appetite faded the moment food touched my tongue. My hands trembled slightly as I lifted the spoon. The room was too quiet. The kind of silence that makes your skin crawl because you know it won’t last.
Then it happened….I predicted right.
A scream.
Sharp. Piercing. Female.
It echoed from the lower part of the house, ripping through the silence like glass shattering. Another scream followed, louder this time, filled with pure terror.
The spoon slipped from my hand.
The entire house erupted into chaos.
People started running. Footsteps thundered against marble floors. Doors slammed shut. Whispers turned into panicked cries. I watched as maids abandoned whatever they were doing and hurried toward their rooms, locking themselves in like prey hiding from a predator.
My chest tightened.
“What’s happening?” I asked the girl standing closest to me.
Her face was pale. Her lips trembled.
“Naomi,” she whispered.
“Naomi?” I repeated, confused.
“She gave Micky milk,” the girl continued fearfully.
“Told her it was safe even though she knows she’s lactose intolerant. The poor child had to be rushed to the doctor.”
She covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Master will definitely kill her,” she sobbed.
I stared at her, my mind struggling to process her words.
I wasn’t getting this.
“Who is Micky?” I asked slowly. “Is she the same reason why the other lady was killed? The same Micky?”
The girl nodded frantically.
“She’s Master’s daughter,” she whispered.
“The only thing he holds dear. If she cries, you die.”
My breath caught.
“Oh,” I breathed out. “This is insane.”
Anger surged through me suddenly, hot and uncontrollable. I had thought I was in the worst position here. Thought being a mutate made my life the most miserable. But standing there, watching the fear in her eyes, I realized something even more terrifying.
The caregivers were prisoners too…worst than me
I clenched my fists beneath the table.
“Where is Micky?” I asked.
The girl’s eyes widened immediately.
“She stays on the other side of the castle,”
“ Away from all these” she added
“CCTV cameras are everywhere. Master will kill me if I keep talking about her.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait,” I said and grabbed her wrist.
“Why do you all take this?” I asked quietly. “You’re not mutates like me. Why stay here?”
“If you were offered five thousand dollars per hour,” she said bitterly, “you would stay.”
“I'd suggest you go back to your room with your food..this is the time Master gets mad the most…”
She whispered
“Psychopathic..even the nanny hides…you should hide deeper”
She pulled her hand away and ran off without looking back.
I let out a shaky sigh.
Five thousand dollars per hour.
Was any amount of money worth living in constant fear? Worth watching people die because of mistakes? Worth serving a man who ruled with blood and terror?
I really wouldn’t live this kind of life.
I wouldn’t.
“And why would I run…” i battled with the thought..and fear gripped me but still I didnt.
I lifted my head slowly and stared directly at one of the cameras mounted high on the wall. The red light blinked softly, watching, recording, reporting.
It felt like I was staring straight at him.
Like I was sending a message without words.
I snapped out of it immediately.
My heart began to race as memories crashed into me again. The room. The bed. His touch. The way my body had betrayed me by surviving.
I pushed my chair back abruptly and stood up, breathing hard.
No. Not here. Not now.
I hurried back to my room, locking the door behind me as if it could protect me from thoughts. I leaned against it, sliding down slowly until I was sitting on the cold floor.
My hands shook.
What kind of man builds a world like this? Where fear is currency. Where love is twisted into control. Where a child’s tears are a death sentence.
And what kind of place had I fallen into?
I hugged my knees to my chest, my body aching, my soul heavier.
I had survived yesterday, I will tomorrow and the next.