Chapter 31

I can’t bring myself to sit on the bed. Or on any of the fucked-up apparatus that may pass for furniture in here. My legs ache and I feel weak from the blow to the head, so I choose the wall furthest from the door and sink down to the floor.

There’s no point in giving myself a mental pep talk. No point in trying to escape. The walls are stone, the floor is stone, even the damn ceiling looks to be stone. There’s no windows either, and while the decor seems like every cinematised cliché of a dungeon ever released, it’s actually authentic. Save for the high-tech, high-security metal door which seems completely out of place.

And the mini bar.

Maybe I should just get wasted…but I’m not sure it’ll help make what’s to come any more bearable. Maybe staying clear-headed is the best thing to do after all. Maybe this hotel is the ultimate RPG experience and I have nothing to worry about. Maybe The Gods just wanted to scare me as a prank.

Somehow I think not though.

I stare at the wall, refusing to address the elephant in the centre of the room. I will do whatever it takes to make sure I don’t end up in that box. I’ve been in one like it before and no good came from my time spent locked in there. It’s not an experience I want to repeat.

I don’t know how long I sit on the cold stone floor of the strangest ‘hotel’ I’ve ever set foot in, but it’s long enough for chills to set in through my thin workout gear, my bum to become numb and for my limbs to stiffen and seize.

So much so that when the door opens, I’m unable to scrabble my way to safety. Well, if there were any to be had. I just freeze with my back to the wall and try to keep my lungs working.

A petite young woman enters, looking demure in a housekeeping uniform and for a brief second I wonder if I could take her and escape. Then I mentally shake myself. She’s innocent in all of this – whatever this is – and is probably just doing her job.

I’m not going to hurt an innocent bystander.

She steps into the room and makes her way over to the fireplace and begins laying the fire. The light from the corridor becomes silhouetted and I look up to an enormous security guard blocking the door. He’s menacing and heavily armed, so I’m glad I decided against rushing the maid.

She lights the fire and I shiver.

“You must be cold. It’ll soon warm up,” she says kindly with a soft smile that shows no pity or remorse.

Does she know who I am, why I’m here?

I’m not about to tell her that despite the cold, it’s the fire that’s making me shiver.

She exits the room but her guard remains, and the reason becomes clear when she returns a moment later carrying a tray of piping hot food. It smells amazing and my stomach gurgles, making me wonder how long has passed since breakfast. Fucking Axel. I didn’t even get to finish it.

No way am I eating that food though, no matter how tantalising it smells.

“You should eat,” the maid says softly to me. “You’ll need your strength, no doubt.”

It sickens me. I long to slap the tray into her face, but what would be the point? Instead, I just look away.

She sighs and murmurs something I don’t catch to the guard who then approaches me, who’s still aiming a gun at me with one hand. The other is hidden inside of his jacket pocket and that doesn’t make me feel all warm and tingly inside.

“If you’re not going to eat, we can start the party early,” he warns, pulling his hand free. My eyes widen when I see the syringe he’s holding. I shake my head.

“Please.”

He removes the safety cap from the needle with his teeth.

“Please don’t do this.” I beg, tears of fear beginning to prick the back of my eyes. “I’m not even asking you to let me go. Just please don’t inject me with whatever’s in that syringe. Please.”

The guard grins at me like my terror amuses him.

“I’ll eat! Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Too late for that, little flower,” he sneers. “I know you’ll do anything once this cocktail of drugs is coursing through your veins.”

He lurches and slams me back into the stone wall, the pain exploding through the back of my already tender skull the only thing that makes me realise I’d tried to make a run for it anyway.

He stabs the needle into the inside of my forearm and plunges the drug into my system with zero finesse.

Gasping, I feel the poison move through my veins like a living thing, tangible and deadly, but like a snake that’s returning home. I’ve felt this concoction before. I knew it was coming, but I had hoped – it was my final, desperate plea – that this was some cruel joke.

The guard crouches low as I slump to the floor, already begging the stone cold floor to douse the flames licking through my veins. His breath kisses my cheeks in a teasing caress of minty-fresh coolness.

“The General sends his regards.”

If I didn’t know it before, I do now.

This is no joke.

* * *

I don’t knowhow long they leave me, I’m too trapped in my own prison of flames to be conscious of anything. My entire body is ablaze and it’s like the fire in the room is increasing the temperature by several degrees with every passing minute. The heat and my own terror have my body drenched in sweat which stings my eyes. I’m half crazy with the need to cool myself down somehow.

I pull off my trainers and socks.

The sports jacket comes off next.

Then my T-shirt and leggings.

But it doesn’t work. It feels like the more of my skin I expose, the more my flesh heats and burns. I”m melting. Stripped down to my sports bra and shorts. Frantic.

Desperate.

That’s when I spy the glass of water on the tray beside the food. There’s even ice bobbing in it. It’s like a mirage in the desert, a ship of salvation on the horizon of my desert island.

I snatch the glass up and it’s half gone, a bitter taste in my mouth, before sanity catches up with me.

“Stupid, Odi. Stupid, stupid, girl. Stupid little flower.”

The General always loved his games.

But I can’t help myself. The coolness of the water, the relief it brings, is addictive. Like a helpless marionette, I bring the glass to my lips and drink the remains. I’m an addict. A junkie. Unable to help myself.

I even take the ice cubes into my mouth one by one and crunch them, releasing more of The General’s Surprise into my system. Two out of the three, complete.

If I could, I’d weep at my own stupidity, at how weak I am.

Of course The General would never give me the full dose in one go. He preferred to see the side effect of each drug take hold of me one at a time. I’d bet anything he’s watching right now. Coming for me. Enjoying my burning agony.

I shake my head and the room lurches violently, threatening to empty the contents of my stomach once more. It’s no use, it won’t stop the drugs from working. And it’ll just mean more drugs will be added on top ‘just in case’. He stopped my heart once, giving me too much. After that I learnt not to throw up the first dose.

The desire, no, the need, to cool down reaches fever pitch and I begin to claw at my own flesh. As though somehow, if I could just remove the outer layer of my skin, I could make the blazing inferno within me quiet.

A door opens somewhere but I’m barely present. I’m trapped so deeply within my own labyrinth of pain that I don’t think I’ll ever get out. I know there has to be an end, but I also remember that things have to get worse before they can get better. Blood gathers under my nails but it isn”t enough. It’ll never be enough.

A hand lands on my bare shoulder and I almost weep with relief.

“Please.”

“Shhh, we’ve got you. We’ll make it all better.”

The contact soothes something within me. The pressure pushes a calming balm through my veins.

“Please…heat…cool…”

“Come over to the box, it’ll help.”

“Can’t…stand…” Can’t stop scratching at my skin long enough to form a coherent sentence.

Kind hands scoop me into arms and I’m pressed to a chest that’s bare. The skin to skin contact is a cooling tonic and I burrow myself deeper into the ice. My saviour chuckles.

“Oh, she’s an eager little beaver.”

More laughter ensues but I can’t focus on anything but the chilling pressure of flesh against my flesh. I welcome it. Embrace it. Need it like I need air to live.

“Please.”

“We got what you need, little flower, patience.”

“…so long,” I groan to a chorus of more chuckles.

Sounds echo and rebound off the stone walls but I can’t pinpoint how many are in the room with me. All I can focus on is my saviour, removing my clothes to give me better access to his soothing skin.

Icy manacles secure themselves around my wrists and ankles and I cry in relief. I need this. I’ll always need this. He knows. He’s the only one who’s ever known.

“More please…need…more…”

The briefest whisper of a kiss brushes my lips and I open wide like the greedy, needy, desperate little flower I am for the savage kiss that ensues. They break away and I whimper for more. Lips return. Different this time. They force my mouth open and more cooling liquid nectar is deposited into my mouth. It’s sweet this time. Too sweet. I try to spit, but a hard hand slams down on my face, clamping my jaw shut and pinching my nose until I have no choice but to swallow or pass out.

A blinding moment of clarity.

Three of three.

Then I’m under. Deeper than ever before. Aware of everything and nothing. So painfully present and helplessly lost.

The walls drip, the floor turns to lava, ice drops from the ceiling but never lands on my eager, outstretched tongue. Masks. Black and gold. Faceless masks staring down at me. Too many to count. Pain, heat, suffering unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, making me see stars. The kiss of ice-cold metal on my back. Hands. Voices. Whispers. Taunts. So many hands. Pleas. Desperate pleas tumbling into the air.

The sting. The explosion. The tears of relief. The sob of gratitude, caught in a throat. The groan of release. The hit. The high. The trip. The pounding heart. Filling the air, the space, the mind. Taste. Touch. Feel. Pain. Pleasure. Pleasure and pain rolled into one and a sick, dirty, needy flower begging for more.

Racing towards the edge. Going too fast. Needing to stop but the brakes are broken. Crying. Begging. Pleading. Slow down. Enough. Stop.

A beat that slows. Steady. Weak. Faint. Sporadic. Gone.

Darkness.