Death of a Prince | ✓

EP 22: THE REAL WENDY CAIN

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WARNING:

This chapter contains reference to sexual abuse, abuse, foul language, and descriptive violence towards the end. 

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EPISODE TWENTY TWO

'the real wendy cain'

    

    

"CAN I HAVE a glass of water at least?"

The only indication that she was surprised by what I said was the lost of menace in her face. Apart from that, there was no shift in her expression. Instead, she tilted her head, assessing every facet of my face but I wasn't exactly faking it.

"You drugged me. My head hurts and my mouth feels like I'm sucking on cotton balls." My heart was hammering, but my body kept steady. I was afraid, there was no doubt about that, but humans had a funny thing of working harder to live when they know that they'll be dying soon. It was the panic, the adrenaline, and it was coursing through me with an erratic beat.

"You have a point," she finally said, standing daintily. "I'll ask the boys and have one of them check your pulse. I'd check it for you, but I don't really trust getting into people's personal space. At least, if you have something sharp, you'd have to stab one of them and get killed right after by doing something so idiotic. It'd be fun to see you try though, so be my guest." She chuckled briefly as if that was a joke she'd like to see.

But as soon as she swung the door open, I let my head rest on the wall and closed my eyes. I felt like crying. Crying and vomiting. Thoughts ran across my head. What do I tell her? Where was everyone else? Was I the only one taken? Is anyone going to save me?

I felt alone and sick, thinking how could everything turn flip so much in mere hours. I had told Leon Song I liked him. I had told him that I loved him. I had danced with him. I had seen him laugh for the first time in days.

And now I was alone.

When the door swung open, I sucked in a hostile breath, raising a weak leg in protection as one of the man came back with a bottled water. The mere movement felt more taxing than it should be, like my muscles had melted and my bones had become brittle. Aoi was nowhere to be see, but the door remained open and I could hear sounds of movement and stilled life. Shuffle of feet and conversations I couldn't make out.

"Can you hold the bottle?" he asked, his face impassive as he knelt in front of me, closer than I would've liked. My heart was hammering but he only raised an impatient eyebrow.

When I nodded, he handed me the bottle and my movements were slow and weak, but as I gulped it down, he put two fingers on my pulse. I stilled, but he only checked for the hammering of my heart, the heat on my forehead with the palm of his hand, and then checked his watch before he seemed satisfied.

He waited until I had finished drinking before he took the bottle again and left without another word. In replace of him was Aoi again, closing the door with a loud thud. She waved a phone in greeting as she sat back down, crossing her legs while she adjusted the skirts of her dress.

"So, Miss Cain, are you ready to bare your soul?"

I swallowed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything about you. How you came to be, how — in the panicky situation you found yourself — you're still studying me, trying to find answers as a form of self-preservation. And of course, how you found yourself tangled in all of this. All I know is that you're Leon's little girl from that castle his mum bought in somewhere town countryside. Horrendously dry information."