CHAPTER 5
"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door..."~ Fredric Brown, "Knock"
A sharp rap on her door jolted her awake. Murata was standing in the doorway, carrying a tray of breakfast.
"Good afternoon, my lady," Murata said in a cheerful voice.
"I apologise for waking you up, but it's half past 2, and I received a message from the healer via PortCom that they will be coming in an hour."
"They?" Prisoner 112 asked.
"Yes, the healer and the kāhin."
She experienced a sensation of suffocation, as if the air had suddenly grown thin.
"The kāhin is coming?"
"Yes, my lady. He insisted on accompanying the healer, saying it was an exclusive order from the Kral."
She was hyperventilating.
"I don't want to see him. Please, Murata, help me," she pleaded, looking helplessly at her.
Murata's eyes darkened.
"My lady, only the Məhv Edən can stop the kāhin. I am aware that he is a slimy, deceptive ball sack! But I'll be by your side, so please relax. You mustn't overstress yourself."
Given the option between the Məhv Edən and the kāhin, she would tolerate the kāhin.
Murata placed the tray of food on the table and approached the bedside. She settled onto the edge of the bed, gently clasping Prisoner 112's small hand within both of her own.
"It's going to be alright, my lady," she reassured in a soothing tone, though she doubted the promise herself.
Despite the emptiness of Murata's words, Prisoner 112 found solace in the gentle cadence of her voice.
It felt as if she had an older sister by her side, one who offered comfort without prying or asking unnecessary questions.
At that moment, she felt a deep sense of gratitude towards Murata.
She squeezed her hand and got up to leave.
"My lady, let me know if you need anything. Just ring the bell on the table, and I'll be here."
Prisoner 112 glanced at the table displaying her meal and noticed a small call bell, a new addition since her arrival.
With a nod, she rose slowly from the bed, mindful of the head rush that accompanied her movements. After a refreshing shower, she changed into fresh clothes.
Though there was no bra, seeing her non-existent breasts, it did not matter. Pulling on lace knickers and slipping into a gown, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked almost presentable.
She picked up a sandwich from the tray and moved to stand by the window. The idea of stepping outside her room filled her with immense fear; she hadn't ventured beyond these walls before.
To her, walls meant safety-a tangible barrier protecting her. The vastness of the outside world felt overwhelming, too open, and gigantic. Panic began to rise in her throat at the thought, so she forced herself to focus on the view outside.
YOU ARE READING
WHISPERED SINS
Romance"I used your blood to bind you to me. There's no escape. You're chained to me until your last breath." She hated him so much that she wanted to poison him, rip the mask off his cruel face, and stare into his eyes as she plunged the dagger repeatedly...
