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It happened before I could even register it. It was almost like I stood outside my body seeing it happen. Rage flamed inside me. A wildfire of anger that could only be quenched with violence. My right hand flashed up faster than I realized I could move. Fingers bunching into a fist. My knuckles crashed into her nose. Two sprays of blood burst out of her face, one from each nostril. The cartilage bent and crumpled under my hand. Elise’s head snapped back, and for a single instant, her eyes went distant and glazed. I’d knocked her out. It only lasted a second. As she tipped back in her chair, awareness reappeared, but too late, she was already going over. The chair hit the floor with a crash.
My hand still hung in the air, a few trickles of blood on the knuckles. I stared at it in shock and surprise. I could hear Elise’s maniacal laughing coming from the floor. The others were looking at me like they didn’t think I’d had it in me. Even after all the things I’d done to Branson, I hadn’t thought I could do that either. Even Drake gave me a questioning look, but followed that with a congratulatory nod.
Elise righted her chair and then sat. She was still chuckling. She nodded at me. Twin rivers of blood were dripping down her nose into her mouth. She turned and spat a spray of blood and spit on the ground beside her.
“Good. Now we can fucking eat.”
After the disaster at lunch, I was sent to the library. My heart gave a little flutter when I was told. Maybe Drake would be there like last time? I literally couldn’t think of anything better than sitting by the fireplace and reading in silence with him. Upon reflection, that had probably been the only moments of true peace I’d had since I’d gotten here. Unfortunately, I’d been too freaked out and panicked to realize it at the time.
Once I got to the library, my hopes were crushed. The door latched closed behind me, and I was all alone. Taking a slow stroll through the room, I had a moment of dread. Where was Drake? What awful thing was happening to him? I remembered the dark bruises on his side, the burn on his arm, the contusions on his face. Anything could be happening. They all said he’d been here the longest. What if Sam was getting bored of him? Would he have him killed to make way for a new doll?
Shaking the thought away, I went to the shelves to peruse the titles. It was an incredible collection for a personal library. All the classics were here. From Shakespeare and Dickens to Hemingway and Woolf. There were even current titles from contemporary authors: King, McCarthy, and Atwood.
Seeing the names and titles took me back to school. I’d always loved to read. My parents had obviously been oblivious to my education, but through school and teaching myself, I’d learned to read and devoured books in the school library. Though, they had always been more modern titles. None of the ancient looking classics had ever appealed to me. There’d never been extra money for books, though. All that went to bills, cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs. Once I was on my own, it took every penny I had to pay for the basics. Now, I was almost overwhelmed by the choices.
Not wanting to take too long and get punished, I finally grabbed Great Expectations by Dickens. I’d never read it, but the description on the dust jacket made it sound a bit like a romance novel. For some reason, that was what I was in the mood for.
The fire was hot and inviting, and I took one of the seats in front of it. I sighed and worked through the book. I’d taught myself to read fast as a child to get through the stories quickly before Mom or Dad yelled at me, hit me, or sent me to the back room with a man. I was already a hundred pages into the book after twenty-five minutes.
The story was good, but I couldn’t keep my mind from drifting back to Drake. As I alternated between the chapters on the page and him, I thought of those furtive moments a few days before. His fingers deep inside me, and my hand wrapped around his cock. Knowing I’d probably never get to experience that again, deep disappointment filled me as I continued to read until my time was up.
My fantasy of getting free with him seemed even more distant today.
At dinner, Drake had fresh bandages wrapped around his hand from the stab wound. That was good to see. As we ate, I nodded at his hand.
“When did you get that?”
Drake shrugged. “They gave me medical attention during the evening activity.”
Before I could ask who ‘they’ were, the chime went off, ending all conversation. My heart hammered. Were we in trouble, or were we about to have to do some sadistic game again? It went off right as I was asking about Drake’s hand. I was a little panicked that I’d gotten everyone in trouble by talking about it.
“Good evening,” Sam said. “Tonight will be movie night. Please finish your dinners and proceed to the theater room.”
Everyone else took a few last bites of food and stood. I followed suit, but was confused. Movie night? That sounded too simple. Reading in the library was a calm and simple activity, but I doubted our host would have more than one of those in his little dollhouse.
Drake saw my confusion and worry and put a reassuring hand on my lower back as we walked. His device buzzed and he took his hand away quickly, but I could still feel the warmth of his fingers after he’d removed it. We took the stairs near the dining room and headed to the next floor. I was at the back of the line as we entered the theater. The seats were massive and upholstered in soft fabric. The screen took up one whole wall. It really did look like a movie theater, all the way down to the plush carpeting.
“What’s the deal?” I finally asked.
“Every week or so, we get a late night. To stay up and watch a movie or read or play a fucking board game or some shit,” Liam said.
My eyes narrowed. I knew nothing was simple in this house. “There’s a catch, right? There always is here.”
Jeffery chuckled. “Oh, just wait. We’ll know soon.”
A second later, the door of the theater swung closed and locked.
Bong. “Tonight you will choose a movie to watch. To your left you will find a small bowl. Inside are folded slips of paper. On each slip is a movie title. Each of you will pick the title. Beside the bowl is a small cat-o-nine tail.”
My legs wanted to shake as I turned and saw what he was talking about. The ornate glass bowl and the sinister-looking lump of black leather beside it. The handle was about eight inches long. From the tip hung nine thin leather straps that each ended with a heavy knot. The whole thing must have been about eighteen inches.
“You will take turns,” Sam continued. “Whipping each other’s forearms. The last one to bleed is the winner, and their movie selection will begin playing.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Elise muttered.
“Please begin,” Sam said.
Jeffery stepped forward first and shoved his hand into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. He read and gave a look of disgust. “Good god. Please let me bleed first. It’s The Sound of Music. I’d almost rather get knocked out than watch that shit. This,” he held up the paper, “is real torture.”
