Colourless

Chapter Nine

This chapter is dedicated to Netflix_Psycho for my cover that I am absolutely in love with! Thank you so much once again! ❤️

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"We're almost there." Malik's words made my throat go dry, and I felt an immediate desire to guzzle several litres of water.

Like a mantra, I whispered reassuring words to myself. "You've got this Pearl. You're wearing black, you'll fit in right with them. Nobody will know. We're all vigilante rebels fighting the system at the end of the day." Unabashed nerves crawled along my spine in nauseating waves, and I felt like I was going to vomit. There was no way I could tell what lied ahead, but I could gage a rough idea after Malik turned off the main asphalt roads nearly an hour ago.

Leaping from the vehicle, I watch curiously through the car window as Malik stops in the middle of an empty clearing, gesturing grandly to the fallen leaves around him. "We're here." He smiles broadly.

Weary that he may have been joking, I skeptically grab my bag and slowly trudge towards him. "Where?" I narrow my eyes, "I'm just seeing one insane man pointing to a lot of leaves."

Malik raises a condescending eyebrow, "What? You think that a secret rebel base would be a grand mansion in the woods? That's just poor planning." He kicks dirt and fallen leaves with his feet, before bending down to literally lift up the ground. Dirt and all, he just picked up the corner and a whole flat section, twice the size of my chest, lifts up — revealing an underbelly of metal. He then points to the bottomless hole that was just revealed and looks at me expectantly.

"Oh no." I shake my head, "Spiders. That looks like somewhere a huge spider would be happy to ambush sweet, unsuspecting fools like me." Malik merely stares harder and I fall to the peer pressure, reluctantly crawling inside — using a ladder that was once hidden in the shadows. Malik climbs in after me, and I hear a thunk as he replaces the cover.

I reach the bottom of the ladder and look around; noting that my surroundings looked a dimly lit lobby of sorts, with a relatively high ceiling and greenery that I presumed was fake — considering the severe lack of natural light.

"You'll be fine, Malik assures, just as grand white doors opposite to us swing open — revealing unfamiliar faces. Malik offers an encouraging nudge. "I've got your bag, you talk to the boss." Malik instructs — taking my duffel bag — and I give him a brief nod and a small salute. before shakily trudging onwards through the doors.

"Welcome, my dear!" A loud, yet kind, voice boomed, and I look to the top of a staircase to see a beautiful older woman in a gorgeous, and practically regal, pink coat. "You're Pearl, right?" She smiled warmly down at me when I simply nodded, almost unsure of my own name, and then proceeded to gently float down the stairs.

"It's so good to meet the new ones, they're so wide eyed and ready to learn." she beams, before reaching out to take my hands in hers. "You will get through this. I know it's cliche, but you will."

"Thank you... ma'am." I nod unsurely, considering a curtsy until she roll her eyes.

"I hate being called ma'am, it makes me feel old," she remarks quietly and I let out a chuckle. "Just call me Laria, sweetheart."

Suddenly, a young man in a tailored suit hurries down the stairs — panting as he finally stops, flanking Laria. "Sorry I'm late, mother."

"You are so much like your father was; running late and never on time!" Laria chastises gently, "If I didn't carry you for nine months, I would think you were adopted!"

"This time it wasn't my fault," He hisses like a child in trouble, causing Laria to raise an eyebrow, "Gina was... persistent in holding me, uh..."

"Captive?" I supply, earning a nod.

"Uh, I'm Reagan by the way—" he scrambles, absently shaking my hand as he looks to his mother pleadingly— "Talk about it later?" The salt-and-pepper-haired woman averts her eyes, merely shrugging sarcastically.

"If you have time for me," she pouts, beckoning for one of the men in the room before Reagan can retort. "Please show her the way to the rooms... oh, and let her know about the meetings and such." Scampering after the bald-headed man as he spun on his heel, beginning to follow the same path Malik had disappeared down, I bid Laria and her son farewell for now.

The brief staircase was made of long, thin slabs of white marble, which gave a strange illusion that flowed onto the flooring in the rest of the underground cave. The walk was brief, and the man soon gestured to simple, wooden-paneled door — a copper fixture screwed onto the wood that read, 46. I nodded thankfully, prompting the man to open the door for me — narrowly missing whacking Malik with the door, as he stood in the opposite doorway. Ignoring the brunet's grumbled protests, my lips part as I admire the room. "Woah," I stammer, dazedly waltzing inside.

The bedroom wasn't the princess dream that many girls harboured, but in my eyes it was comforting — especially after the moth eaten blankets and dusty cobwebbed corners I had the pleasure of experiencing during the journey here.

The walls were a soft cream, with a twin bed — covered in a thick duvet and a cable knit throw-rug draped atop the bedding — placed in the centre of the room. The carpeted floor was soft, and oddly decadent, and I immediately kicked off my shoes at the door to allow my toes to sink in. "Being clear-blooded is really looking up," I mutter in disbelief, gliding my hands over the decorative pillows.

Overall the room was better than expected for an underground bunker, and it looked halfway between a poster ad for an expensive hotel and a comfy home abode to relax in. But, what also caught my attention, was the two suspicious doorways in either corner of the room. I creep towards the first one and discover a small bathroom, before gliding to the other in suspicious delight. I peer into it and my best hopes are confirmed; a small walk in wardrobe. It was near empty, but that was easy to rectify.

A few remnants of clothing remained in the shelving, but they were pretty basic necessities like underwear and dark-coloured clothes. However, amongst the black skeletons of fabric, was a silky peach material — the chiffon fabric forming a surprisingly beautiful dress.

I turn myself away from the clothes after a few minutes of admiring to stare, bewildered, at the tall curtains mounted on one of the walls. Confusedly, I approach them and pull the material away, only to be greeted with a cream wall underneath.

Some things are better left unquestioned, I decide.

"Like what you see?" I hear Malik ask and I turn to see him leaning against my open door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"My clothes have a mini apartment!" I squeal with a smile, before plopping on the bed and falling back onto it, "This is fantastic."

"That's great, cupcake, you have that meeting in, like, 20 minutes," Malik informs and my eyes widen

"So little time, so much to prepare! First impressions are everything."