When I opened my eyes again, the ceiling above me wasn't the Sonder's mansion's familiar high arches or even the polished wood of particular corridors.

It was flat, cream-painted plaster, cheap and lifeless, the kind you see in local hotel rooms that try too hard to look "clean" but end up soulless.

My wrists ached before I could even move them, and when I tried, my arms barely budged, I looked doen to see leather straps bit into the skin. The same with my ankles, spread wide and locked to the four corners of the bed, a humiliating pose, especially when I realized I was half-naked, my dress gone, just stripped down to my underwear.

Anshur you filthy animal…

I swallowed, forcing myself not to thrash like a panicked animal… This is not the first time I got tied up and wanted to get out but couldn't, no elaboration.

Stay calm, breathe, and evaluate. That was what games taught me, right? Assess the field before making a move.

It wasn't an awful place, strangely enough, a flat-screen TV mounted opposite the bed, a little mini fridge of overpriced drinks sitting in the corner, towels folded neatly on a shelf.

But then my eyes caught something that didn't belong: blankets, hozens of them, hung along the walls like crude tapestries, overlapping layers three or four thick.

Behind them, I glimpsed black, square foam panels, that of noise-canceling material. My stomach turned cold, whoever set this up… they didn't want sound leaving this room.

And then I noticed the draft, the window was cracked open with moonlight dribbling in. It had to be night already, so… I've been gone for the whole day.

My chest clenched, I began inhaling in air for what's about to come.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEEE."

I screamed, loud, desperate. My throat tore with the effort, but the sound felt like it slammed against the padded walls and went nowhere. I screamed again until the air in my lungs expired, just to test it, but it was like struggling underwater.

Just as all hopes was lost and I need to plan a different route… Perhaps trying to break free and call the cops? Someone heard my screaming and opened the door.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped out.

Anshur Von Rodolfo looked like she had dressed for a funeral, or, to butcher a screaming pig.

Black slacks, buttoned white blouse, gloves tight on her hands. Her hair, normally tied back neat for her maid's duties, spilled looser now, shadowing half her face.

"Why are you doing this???" I exclaimed, "You want me to leave? Okay, I will! Just- Just… Fuck… Just don't fucking kill me, please! I'll do anything! I'll give you everything!"

As I protested, she just shook her head very calmly.

"I know you filthy rat would hang around and bother the young madam, you were pleasuring yourself to Hailie Sonder, weren't you?" she said coldly, tugging a glove tighter at the wrist, her eyes narrowed on me, full of disdain. "Of course, I couldn't kick you out when the madams are happy with you, but I can make sure you never think ill thoughts about them again."

My heart pounded, I tugged the restraints again, harder this time, my wrists stinging as the straps refused to give.

"What do you want from me?" I spat, even though my voice cracked. "Sure, I'll stay away from them, I planned to, anyways! I can do that! It's not that hard, I'll… I'll voluntary move back to my apartment!"

"There is no need to… I actually prefer to keep you in my sight."

As she gave a bone-chilling answer, I noticed something in her hands.

She let a knife glint under the room's light, turning it lazily between her fingers.

"Oh god… No- No no no no no no no no on noonnonnowponown"

Anshur lowered it to the skin of my stomach, the point grazing just enough to make my muscles seize. I tried not to shiver, but the cold metal betrayed me, the flat of the blade was pressing against my bones.

As my muscle tensed and I started crying out loud, letting ugly tears and snot get over the bedsheet.

"You're nothing," she whispered. "Not worthy to breathe in their direction."

But… She never cut me, though, that didn't register, I feel like I've already been cut as I started making ugly sounds of despair and helplessness.

Then in the air came thin leather, a whip, it cracked once in the air, loud enough to make me snapped back to reality and flinch before it touched me.

She raised it above her head

When it did, it wasn't deep, just sharp, stinging, she watched me twitch, and the corners of her lips curled, like the smallest smile.

It was… A long minute.

At one point, she lit a candle on the nightstand, and of course, she leaned it towards my chest.

"Guuh… GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!?!"

Wax dripped from it, slow and heavy, falling onto my upper arm and where my heart's supposed to be on the left chest. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was humiliating and unthinkable to the likes of me.

Anshur she enjoyed not the act itself but my reaction, the way my breath hitched, the way I bit my lip to keep from crying out again.

"Go on," she said lightly, "Scream… Cory Jay Smith, I chose this room well, end of the hallway, layers of blankets… And walls lined with foam nobody will hear you."

She paused, then adding.

"If you promise not to tell anyone about this… I'll promise it will be more bearable."

I did scream… Because at that point, what else could I do? My voice cracked raw, echoing only for her amusement, until exhaustion kicked in.

Anshur tilted her head, as though savoring it, then finally sighed.

"Pathetic." She tossed the whip onto the chair, blew out the candle, and pinned the knife down on the bedsheet, just next to my ear which now had a small cut.

Anshur leaned close enough for me to smell the faint metallic tang of her gloves.

"Know this, rat, this life is not for you… No matter how much you crawl, you'll never be one of us."

Her footsteps retreated back to the switches of the hotel room, the bathroom light flicked off first, then the main one.

The room was left in half-darkness with only the pale moon shining through the window.

And the door shut.

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