𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❺❺ • ⊘

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

Two more months have passed, and my period ended eleven days ago, which means Ghost has decided on holding the wedding tomorrow evening.

Since the doctor told him when my most fertile window would be, Ghost decided he couldn't wait any longer. I got half of what I asked for, and even though it's unfair, I at least was granted six months without him touching me in the long run.

Today I've been told to dress in clothes I could walk around the bunker in. To my surprise, Ghost is permitting me to leave the room and stretch my legs.

For what reason he decided to give me such freedom, I have no clue, but I obliged and dressed myself quickly in fear he would change his mind.

When the man who normally brings my food arrives, I know without him saying a word he's going to escort me.

I slip on the fuzzy slippers and exit the room while he holds the door open for me. Ghost came by earlier, unlocking my chain while giving me some different clothes to wear which were more comfortable but were better for walking around in than plain pajamas is what he argued.

I welcomed the chaotic, unpredictable nature of today. Despite the horrid news of the wedding, I still found a little joy in being permitted to leave the room for once after six months. I could stroll, possibly walk until I tired my legs out.

The small fantasy of enjoying my legs might be a little much to some, but to me, if I was granted the chance of sprinting in a marathon right now, I would sign my name without a second thought. I need to taste freedom. I wonder if this is how caged dogs feel, and that's the reason why they run so wild when outside in an open space.

Standing next to the wall while the man locks the door, I take in the slight narrowness of the hallway. I look down either end and admit the hall is a lot longer than I imagined.

"Follow me," he says which almost infuriates me. If he could speak normally now, why not before when I attempted a conversation with him?

The question dies on my tongue because it doesn't matter. Deep down I know whatever I confided in him would have been immediately reported to Ghost. It's probably better this way.

I follow behind the man while bypassing other rooms with which their doors look identical to mine.

"How many people live here?" I'm not shy in asking the question. I feel excited with a small thrill of adrenaline running up my spine. If we can only do small talk, I'm going to at least try. There's no harm in it if it means I can talk to someone else besides Ghost and his doctor on a leash.

"Don't know," he says with a bitter tone. He's not hateful but acts as though he could care less about explaining this place to me.

"Well, where are you taking me? You could at least tell me that much—"

"Look lady, I'm just doing my job. I was told to guide you to the cafeteria. I don't know anything so stop asking." This time he's a little more forward with his tone, so I decide to keep my questions to myself. At least I got my answer to that question.

Instead, I take in what I see around me. I never thought the bunker could be so large, but it's built with multiple rooms. Not small rooms, but spacious ones.