I sat in a bathroom stall, fingernails burrowed into my palms. The freezing cold porcelain cut through the thin fabric of my hospital gown, sending a chill up my spine. I'd escaped to the bathroom in a desperate attempt at regaining my composure. Now, though, it seemed counterproductive. All I had managed to do was work myself into hysteria.
It felt like the entire facility was watching me. Walls, chairs, tables-- they had all set their gaze upon me with predatory obsession. I stood at the precipice of panic, barely able to keep myself from slipping over the edge.
The sound of the bathroom door opening was a much-needed respite from my racing mind. Hesitant footsteps treaded further into the room until a voice called out, "Sixteen?" I could have screamed in relief when Six's voice filled my ears.
After Peter told me training was canceled, a plan formed in my mind. Truthfully, I hadn't expected it to work. Still, I marched up to Six once she'd entered the Rainbow Room and asked if she would be willing to skip her lessons and join me. To my surprise, she said yes. To my further surprise, she had actually managed to slip out.
I unlocked the door and smiled, "Hi."
"Hi," She echoed, "So, I'm technically supposed to be resting in my room right now-- I told the nurse I had the worst headache of all time and I was going to die-- so let's just avoid the nurse's office and we should be fine."
"Alright," I replied as I held the door open and gestured towards the hallway, "Thank you for skipping with me. Where do you want to go?"
She grinned wryly and grabbed my hand, "You'll see."
With that, she began pulling me towards our destination. We started off at a walk, then moved to a jog until, eventually, we were running full force down the hallway, footsteps echoing all around us. Six erupted in a fit of laughter, growing more and more breathless as we proceeded.
When we stopped at a door, she placed her hands on her knees and gasped for air. She could not stop laughing. I didn't know what she was laughing at or why it was so funny, but I conceded eventually and giggled along with her.
"This," She gestured towards the door, interrupting her own sentence with yet another chuckle, "This is my favorite room. You'll like it, I think." Her hand wrapped around the doorknob. She rattled it a few times, and then her face fell. "Oh, it's locked. It's never locked. That's weird."
My eyes flitted over the doorknob. "Do you have a pin?"
Six offered me a blank stare. "I don't have hair, Sixteen. Why would I have a pin?"
"Paperclip?"
She began searching her pockets. Most of the other kids had the option of wearing crewneck and sweatpants instead of the hospital gown I wore. I wanted to ask Papa to get me some new clothes, too, but I figured he'd say no. After all, the last time I asked for something, a guard had ended up dead. My insides curled up at the thought.
Six opened her fist to reveal a small pile of paperclips. Most of them were bent at odd angles and broken in a few different places. "I like playing with them," She shrugged. One of the paperclips jutted forward. Six's eyes focused on the little piece of metal, face twisting with effort. The clip strained, and then slowly morphed into a star. "See? I can make other shapes, too. I've been practicing."
"Oh, wow," I took the star-shaped paperclip and felt the points one by one, "I'm impressed."
"Yes, I'm very impressive," She replied, "Why do you need a paperclip?"
"You'll see," I replied. I straightened out one end of the clip while keeping the other at a ninety-degree angle. Then, I positioned the straight end in front of the keyhole. I applied a bit of pressure and rotated the clip in what I assumed was the right direction. There was a small give, and one of the pins within the lock became stuck. The process was repeated a few more times until, finally, I twisted the doorknob and the door swung open.
Six watched me step into the room, bewildered, "Where did you learn to do that?"
I paused. She brought up a good question, and I had no idea how to answer it. The ability felt innate, as unconscious as walking. It was then that I remembered the dark, shadowy remains of my past that still lingered at the back of my head. Why would I have the ability to pick locks before all this?
"I...," A frown etched its way across my features, "I don't know."
"Weird," She closed the door behind us and flicked on a light, "Impressive, but weird."
When the room became bathed in the nauseating, fluorescent glow, a few different details caught my attention. The first being a large, black cube. It was mounted atop a wooden desk, proudly taking up the entire space. A piece of glass protruded from the front, glaring underneath the harsh lights. The next thing I noticed was a small jar stacked full of little brown squares. I wasn't quite sure what they were, but they smelt wonderful.
The last thing I noticed were the tapes. There were, perhaps, four shelves chalk-full of tape after tape from floor to ceiling. Each was marked with a different date-- or, what I believed was a date-- followed by a collection of random, unintelligible numbers. I frowned. The farther from the desk I got, the older the tapes were.
"That's security camera footage," Six said from the other side of the room, "They're boring, I've watched a few." She grunted, and then the sound of something sliding against the floor caught my attention. "This is what we're here for."
When I faced her, she was knelt down by an old, misshapen box. She peered inside, shuffling through an assortment of objects I couldn't quite make out. "Oh, what about this one?" She produced a tape. It pictured a fish-- or, what I assumed was a fish-- with its mouth splayed open, showcasing razor-sharp white teeth. Big, bold letters labeled the tape 'JAWS.'
"What is that?" I asked, kneeling next to her and taking the tape into my hands. Upon closer inspection, a person was in the picture too, swimming while the enormous fish stalked them from underwater. "Woah. Is this thing real?"
She looked over my shoulder, "The shark? Oh, yeah, they're real. Not the one in the movie, though."
"Shark," I tested the word on my tongue, "They're kind of scary."
"I thought that, too," She replied, "I asked Peter about them, once. He said they're not that scary in real life."
"Peter's seen a shark?" My eyes went wide.
"No," Six answered, taking the tape from my hand, "But he's probably read about them. There used to be a little picture book about sharks in the Rainbow Room, but they took it away." Six then clicked a button on the big, black cube. It sprang to life as static filled my ears and a blurry picture crackled on the screen.
"Holy shit," I muttered, pressing my fingers onto the glass, "Woah."
Six giggled at my reaction and pushed the tape into a little slot on the bottom of the box. "It's called a television. You can watch stuff on it!" She took a seat a few feet away from me, "Also, back up, it's not good for your eyes."
"Oh, okay," I did as she instructed and backed up. "Is the movie real?"
"No, it's all pretend," She replied, "You'll like it."
Six was right.
I liked that the movie had rules and I liked that the threat was easy to avoid. Stay out of the water, avoid boating unless it's absolutely necessary, and you'd probably be fine. I wished my own situation was that easy to navigate. But, of course, that was a movie, and movie logic did not apply in the real world. Or, at least, that's what Six said after I critiqued the film one too many times.
The theme repeated over and over in my head as I made my way back to my room. Forcing myself not to think about what Peter had told me was pretty easy. I'd have the entire sleepless night to inspect each word he had said and wonder about how that tied into everything I knew so far. My mind deserved some rest, at least for the time being.
I dreaded the night before it even began.
I pushed open my bedroom door and staggered in a few steps. Without warning, a light flashed on, and a 'tsk' sounded in the corner of the room. I looked up to see the nurse, Gloria, sitting on the chair beside my bed with a stern expression on her face.
"Did you enjoy your training today?" Her tone reeked of suspicion.
My cheeks reddened. "Peter canceled training today," I replied as evenly as I could.
"Oh, I see," She pushed herself from the chair and walked toward me, "Did he cancel Six's training, too?" My eyes went wide. What we had done wasn't deserving of a punishment like Peter's, right? We only watched a movie.
The kids, too. Peter confirmed it. God forbid Six was next.
Just when I thought I was doomed; that Six and I may have been condemned to the electric assault of the tasers, Gloria paused. A sly smile lit up the woman's face, "I'm not going to tell anyone, baby. You just have to be more careful next time, alright?
I could have cried in relief. "Thank you."
She smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You have enough to deal with already. I see no reason in giving you more trouble." She turned towards a small cart that I hadn't noticed when I first entered the room.
Her practiced hands shuffled through cotton swabs, bandages, latex gloves, and miscellaneous containers that I couldn't make out. Finally, she produced a bottle full of light blue pills. Through the dim lighting, I could barely make out the name 'Benzodiapines.'
"These..." She took a pill out of the container and handed it to me, along with a paper cup full of water, "Are meant to help you fall asleep. Brenn-- Your Papa picked them out for you."
"He did?" I questioned. The unassuming blue pill made my stomach lurch. If Papa could torture people, was he really above poisoning them? And either way, did I want to ingest something that he had picked explicitly for me?'
"Don't be nervous, baby," Gloria's cigarette-stained smile eased a bit of my worry, "I wouldn't give you anything I wouldn't take myself. I have insomnia, too, and these," She shook the pill bottle, "These help me. If you don't like them after tonight, I'll get you something new. How about that?"
I smiled appreciatively. Though I didn't entirely trust the pill, I bit back any further questions and swallowed it. After placing the empty water cup back on the cart, Gloria tilted her head, "Now that wasn't too bad, was it?"
"No, it wasn't," I replied, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me, it's my job," She laughed a smoker's laugh and I smiled along with her. "Try to get some rest tonight, okay?"
I nodded and collapsed on my bed. A clatter echoed in the room as she sifted through something on the cart. After a few more moments, she began to exit. When she reached the threshold, she called, "Goodnight, baby."
"Goodnight."
I woke up in the Rainbow Room. Everything was fuzzy, coming in and out of focus too fast for me to process what was happening. A hand gripped mine, Six's. The next moment we were sat at a table. The room bobbed and ebbed before my eyes, moving side to side until I felt like I was going to fall to the floor. There were kids everywhere. Each one without hair, lacking any discernable features. They ran around the room, laughing and shouting until they all blurred into one discordant cacophony, ceaseless in their rampage.
An unexplainable panic rose up my throat. I stood from my chair, and suddenly all the kids were running toward us. "Six!" I shouted, but she could not hear me. I doubt she would be able to hear anything over such chaos.
Little bodies ran all around me. I tried to walk forward, to find Six's familiar face, but the children began to clasp hands and spin in a circle. I stood in the center, utterly disoriented, unable to comprehend what was happening. My head whipped every which way, desperately searching for an orderly to break this up. Why was such madness allowed? Surely, Papa could hear the noise.
And then the room lurched sideways, and I fell onto my knees. I should have collapsed on top of one of the kids, but suddenly they were all gone. The chaos stopped and I was alone. I could not stand, could not breathe, could not speak.
The door opened. Or, I assumed it had opened, as I couldn't incline my head. The echoes of laughter died down until there was nothing at all. My breathing was far too loud, sharp and quick and ricocheting off of every wall.
Footsteps sounded.
Unhurried and ghostly, they inched closer. Each click of a shoe hitting the floor made me flinch. The fear was unimaginable. What was happening? How did I get here?
Black shoes invaded my field of view. A sickening sense of deja vu ran up my spine. I could finally move, and with that ability, I allowed my eyes to venture up the length of white pants, and then a white shirt.
"Peter?" I whispered.
Violently blue eyes stared down at me. And then I could not move, forced to stare right back at him. "Get off of your knees, Sixteen," His voice reverberated around the room, piercing my eardrums. I did as he asked. I didn't think I really had a choice.
I was too close. Far, far too close. I could see each fleck of color in his irises like miniature shooting stars. His breathing fanned my face. Steady, warm, minty. And when I tried to step back, my legs would not obey.
A strangled sound left my mouth.
"Peter, what's happening?" I was terrified.
Slowly, his hand rose from his side. I watched each twitch of his fingers, each rotation of his wrist. The room blurred until the only thing that came into focus was him. Then the back of his hand met my cheek. Everything came to a screeching halt-- the very earth must have stopped turning on its axis.
"You're dreaming, I should think," His breath caressed my skin. It was there and then gone, far too fleeting. "So why am I here, Sixteen?" I didn't have an answer. Was any of this truly voluntary? It must have been the pill Gloria gave me.
"I don't know," I muttered. My heart thumped noisily in my chest. I could not think. "Can you make it stop?"
His eyes flitted over mine. I could feel him like an infection. Crawling through my veins, warming my blood, shutting down my organs one by one until I was helpless, left with no other option aside from watching as he overtook me.
"Do you want me to make it stop?" His voice was thunderous, but his touch was gentle. It moved to my jaw, hovering just above my skin. Each contact burned my flesh to the point I could not bare it any longer. He gently tilted my head up. I watched this all unfold, unable to fight it, unsure if I even wanted to.
My gaze caught on his lips. I knew Peter was beautiful. If the entire world could agree on one thing, they would agree on that. How could they not? With his lush, pink lips, so quick to offer a kind word or a smile. And how lovely that smile was.
That was all magnified. Awash in a dream, his skin glinted, his eyes pierced. Sometimes, they were so blue that they hurt. Now, they did more than hurt. They tormented. They mocked me for being completely unable to move away. They grew in intensity until I was sure I would melt beneath them.
It was unbearable.
His hand moved from my chin. It trailed across my clavicle, to my shoulder, up and down my arm. The point of his nose lightly brushed against my cheek. I could feel his every inhale and exhale as though it were my own.
"Do you want me to make it stop?" He repeated. I could not reply. This feeling was entirely foreign, stronger than anything I had ever felt, exploding in my body like a bomb had gone off. His hand ventured down my side, leaving fire in its wake. My lips were agape, sucking in sharp, shallow breaths.
I shook my head.
"No, I didn't think so," He whispered against my skin. The rasp in his voice was euphoric. I could feel it like another being, cultivating a desperate, wanting pit in my stomach. My hands shook by my side.
I felt powerless and powerful at the same time. Intimate could not begin to describe the feeling. Every single part of my body was alert, watching, reactive, desperate to be burned by his wonderfully destructive touch.
His hands pulled at the bottom of the hospital gown, palms trailing up my sides. He guided my hand to the crumpled material that rested near my waist, "Hold it up for me, okay?" His breath fanned across my face. I nodded.
His knuckles brushed the cotton of my underwear. "Remember what you said, Sixteen." Each letter of my name sounded like gold as it passed the threshold of his lips, "You didn't want me to stop."
"Yes," I breathed.
His prepossessing blue eyes met mine. Something primal, barely restrained, pooled in his gaze. Blonde hair brushed against my forehead. His hands ghosted over my thighs. "You're going to wish I had."
WOOOOOOOO LETS HEAR IT FOR THE WHORES!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
okay but when will they fuck
i dont know but this was hot af and im a whore and also i love gloria's character shes so nice shoutout to gloria
PLEASE DEAR GOD READ THE NEXT CHAPTER. I WILL DO ANYTHING. IF YOU DONT, I WILL NEVER MAKE THEM FUCK. NEVER EVER EVER. DO YOU WANT TO COCK BLOCK YOUR FELLOW READERS? REALLY? LIKE A COMMON SEX-NEGATIVE FREAK? ARE YOU THE PATRIARCHY?