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Another shock came from the cuff. I gasped in pain. This wasn’t like before. Instead of a tiny behavioral adjustment, this was a painful searing jolt that made my entire arm go rigid as the electric current cascaded along my muscles and nerves. It wasn’t enough to get me to cry out or grunt, but it was enough for me to realize I didn’t want to push it any further.
As soon as the shock subsided, I walked to the bed, stripped off most of my clothes and lay on top of the covers. I couldn’t fall directly asleep, but that wasn’t the point.
I got another painless buzz and looked at the screen of the device: Under the covers. Now.
Sam wanted compliance, so that’s what I had to give it, otherwise I’d be punished. I pulled the covers out from under me and slid beneath them. As I nestled my head against the pillow to try and relax, a thought occurred to me. The guy running this place had cameras everywhere, including in my room. He’d probably watched me masturbate earlier. The realization filled me with shock and horror. Had he been stroking his own dick while he watched?
Before I could dive down that rabbit hole, a hissing noise in the room pulled me from my thoughts. I sat up, glancing around. Nothing looked wrong, but the hissing sound grew louder until I noticed a faint sweet smell. Within seconds, I was a little dizzy and disoriented. Lying back on my pillow, the smell grew stronger. I blinked a few more times, sleepiness coming over me. The last thing I saw was the light of the lamp fading to darkness.
The next thing I knew, an alarm was going off. It was the incessant beep-beep of an old-fashioned bedside alarm clock. For a moment, I thought everything I’d experienced had been a weird dream. My head was groggy and sluggish as I sat up, but the moment I saw where I was, the hope that I’d been dreaming vanished. I was still there. Still a prisoner.
As muddled as my mind was from whatever chemical they’d used to knock me out, my body was energized and well-rested. I must have been asleep at least eight hours, if not longer. The clock on the wall said it was close to seven, but was that morning or night?
The cuff buzzed: Shower and prepare for breakfast. You have fifteen minutes.
Morning it was then. Not wanting another painful shock like last night, I complied. After a moment’s consideration, I stripped my underwear off and walked to the bathroom without bothering to cover myself. The cameras were everywhere; there was no hiding. Plus, I’d given the psycho an eyeful the afternoon before. Why be modest now?
In the shower, I found out the soap and shampoo were both sandalwood-scented, which wasn’t unpleasant. I looked down at myself. My skin was pale. My body looked fragile. Years of undereating had starved me of the curves I probably would’ve had. My ribs weren’t visible, so I took that as a win, but it was a close thing. My collar bones felt sharper than was healthy, sticking out a bit above my small breasts.
Once out of the shower, I looked at my face. There was fear in my eyes but that was nothing new. Even before I ended up in this place, I’d been scared every day. Terrified of what each new dawn would bring, and scared of remembering the past.
The warm heated tiles beneath my feet reminded me that in some small and strange way, it was better here than in the real world. That did little to pull my mind back from the painful memories that danced in my subconscious.
After I got ready, I made my way to the dining room. Jeffery shuffled along behind me. We were the last two to arrive. Everyone stood by their chairs until we heard the chime go off. Once that happened, we took a seat and started chatting, similar to lunch and dinner the night previous. It was strange because the day before at breakfast everyone had been very quiet to start. Like they’d been on edge about something. I’d assumed that had simply been how they acted each morning after waking up in a hellacious nightmare.
Drake and Liam were discussing a football game that had taken place a year or two before. Elise and Bri were having a hushed conversation about something I couldn’t hear, but they didn’t look upset.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Everyone but Elise, who continued eating her pancake, froze and looked at me. Liam frowned. “What do you mean?”
My shoulders sagged under the weight of everyone’s eyes. I gestured around at everybody. “You guys are acting so normal. Yesterday morning, you all looked freaked out, like you were waiting for something awful to happen. Today it’s totally different. What’s going on?”
They all stared at me for a few brief moments before Liam and Bri lowered their eyes. They almost looked chastised, as though I’d scolded them for something.
Jeffery stared at me, almost glaring, fork clenched in his hand.
Drake was the only one to answer. “Yesterday was different. We hadn’t had a meal together for twenty-four hours.”
“What?” My eyes bugged out as I said it. What would have caused that? Was it a typical punishment? “Why so long?”
“We were locked in our rooms for a day. There was an activity we all refused to participate in. Sam said we needed new dolls. That’s what he calls us, if you haven’t heard it yet. We’re his dolls and this is his dollhouse. He decided that one of us needed to die to make room for a new plaything. One guy was chosen, and he was killed, both as punishment for our disobedience and to make room for you. It was that or we’d all be killed and Sam would start over with a new group.”
The words slammed into me like a car wreck. One of them had been killed to make room for me. The punishments went all the way to the very end of extreme. It made things more immediate and terrifying. My little revolt last night and the shock I’d received had been so small and silly in comparison.
None of my housemates were willing to admit to being the one who’d killed the unnamed man. Was it Drake? Was that why he was explaining it all, or had it been all of them? Maybe when the name was given and they were told to kill the man or die, the group had pounced. Beaten the guy to death right here in that very room?
What activity did they all agree not to do? The things I’d seen so far were horrifying. What could possibly be so bad that they’d risk death to avoid doing it?
We ate in silence the rest of the meal. I choked down a couple of pancakes, a small serving of ham and a banana, filling myself up again. As little as I wanted to take the food from my captor, I’d decided to try and fuel my body as well as I could while I was here. If the chance to escape came, I wanted to be ready. If I starved myself over some stupid moral dilemma, I’d never have the strength to run or fight my way out.
Twenty minutes after we started eating, the chime went off and Sam interrupted the meal. “Good job everyone. I’m glad we could behave ourselves today. You all did wonderfully in your tasks yesterday, so as a reward all tasks today will be done with a buddy. Please return to your rooms and await instructions.”
The door to the dining room clicked open, and we stood, like robots, and proceeded down the hall. The utter monotony of each day might send me into madness. That was if the things I was made to do didn’t do it first.
I was in my room long enough to use the bathroom before the message came through. I’d been anticipating Sam speaking to me through the speakers, but it came through my cuff instead: Go to the kitchen. You will be cooking with a buddy today.
Why’d the messages come in different ways? There was almost no rhyme or reason to it. Was it because he wanted to keep us on our toes, or was he too busy jerking off as he watched us to speak? None of this made sense, and I wasn’t fully sure why I was trying to figure it out. I couldn’t rationalize things like this.
