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His voice was cold and lifeless, like a dead man was speaking to me. The icy look in his eyes became deeper.
"You can’t keep doing this. You have to let us go. There’s no—"
"You demand something from me? You command me? You think you can tell me to stop?"
I fucked up. Again. His face grew red as he spoke, anger flushing his cheeks and made his lip curl in belligerence as he went on. "You are not in charge, Dahlia Belrose. You would do well to remember that."
Without another word, he aimed his remote at me and pushed a button. I would have screamed had I been able to. The shock that burst from my cuff sent a cascade of agony through my nerves. Every vein in my body filled with gasoline and the man struck a match. I sagged to the ground as I lost all control; Drake managed to jump to my side and catch me before I cracked my skull open.
My brain was misfiring, spastic thoughts running through my mind as my body jerked and seized while the current flooded my body. The pain didn’t end, it continued to go on, unending. Hours seemed to go by, days, years, an eternity of agony. Finally, blessedly, he turned the shock off, and I collapsed into Drake’s arms like jelly. My breathing came in ragged gasps, and a wave of shame washed over me as I realized I’d pissed myself. The crotch of my sweat pants was wet and warm, but rapidly cooling. Disgusting.
The man glared at us. "You know what? I think you’ve had enough to eat. Back to your rooms. All of you. Now."
The man strode out of the dining room, and vanished down the hall. Drake helped me get to my feet and put an arm around me to hold me up. He assisted me back to my room, the others followed in silence.
Drake helped me pull off my soiled pants and underwear before settling me on my bed. He took my hand and looked me in the eye. "Stay strong." He hesitated for an instant, then added, "I’ll see you soon."
A few moments after he left, the door swung shut and locked. It remained locked for the next forty-eight hours.
I passed the time by pacing the floor, lying in bed, and taking multiple hot showers. Anything to keep my mind off the hunger. The hunger came anyway. Like a gnawing, grating agony that built with each hour, clawing at me from the inside. When the door finally clicked open two days later, I was almost mad with starvation.
In the hall, the others had a similar look on their faces. Relief that we’d been let out, but ravenous desire to eat. Sam had other plans for us. The dining room was locked. Our devices buzzed and gave us orders. We were sent on typical daily tasks, like nothing had changed.
"Jesus, I’m fucking hungry," Bri grumbled as she walked of to the music room.
Drake and Liam were sent to workout, Payton had been instructed to go to the library, and Elise was made to go work on lunch.
"Maybe I’ll be able to snack on something there," she said hopefully. I doubted that would be allowed. She may have gotten the worst task of all if that were the case. Working with food while starving and being unable to eat would be miserable.
To my horror, my own cuff messaged me to go to the viewing room. Not wanting to be punished for lack of compliance, I hurried to the room. The observation window was dark, the lights off inside the torture room. Below the window, three buttons had been attached to the wall, the wires still showing where the led into the torture room. It was almost haphazard in its installation. The door behind me swung closed and locked.
Bong. "Good morning, Dahlia. Have you enjoyed your fast? I’ve learned that hunger can be a good way to focus one’s thoughts. Hopefully, you are focused today. I have a lovely surprise for you. For all of you, really, but you will be the first to experience this new game."
I swallowed hard. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good. Sam sounded almost giddy. His madness was really starting to show through.
"You worked at a diner, did you not?" Sam asked.
"Uh, yes. Why?" Where was he going with this?
"Is it true that the owners of that diner are close to you? I believe their names are Clint and Maria? Almost like surrogate parents to you?"
For a moment, I almost thought the infinity symbol tattooed on the back of my neck tingled. The cuff on my arm taking the spot where the watch Clint and Maria had given me used to sit, the same symbol on its face. Even though my stomach was as empty as it could be, nausea gurgled in my guts. What was he planning? Fear made it impossible to ask.
"I asked a question, Dahlia Belrose," Sam said, his voice now harsh and scolding.
"True," I whispered. "They, uh, they are like parents."
"Then this should be very interesting indeed. Through this window, your fake father Clint has been strapped to a table. In front of you I have installed some interesting buttons to play with."
"No, no, no…" I muttered the word over and over as tears sprang to my eyes. Clint? He was here? In this hellhole? No. It couldn’t be.
Ignoring my words, Sam went on. "There are times when the imagination can be worse than what your eyes show you. You will push all three of these buttons in sequence, each one sending some sort of agony to your friend. Bloody, painful, and exquisite."
Tears dripped from my face, as I jerked my head back and forth in denial. "I won’t do it. I’d rather die. No. Fuck you."
If he was angry at my response, his voice didn’t reveal it. "I thought you would say that. A strong willed beast, you are. I planned for such a refusal. You see, I understand now. You are all revolting because I was not firm enough with you. I need to take a stronger hand in your development. If you choose not to push the buttons, then I will have one of the housemates do some, hmm, very interesting things with you. I have many ideas on how my dolls can punish one another."
Tears smeared across my hand as I wiped my face. "Fine. Fuck it. I can take whatever it is." I sounded confident, but terror and fear welled up within me. Images flashed through my mind of all the awful things the others had done.
