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This is it. Right here and now, I need to take my power back.
But right when I think I might be able to do that, an orgasm rips out of me, taking a scream with it that shatters the air and splinters me into a thousand sharpened pieces. I imagine them raining down over us, cutting these men, slicing them up and shredding them just like they’ve shredded me.
This isn’t pleasure that’s come from a place of care and attention. My orgasm has been coerced, fooled, dragged out of me by men who don’t deserve to bask in it. My body trembles, shaking, utterly at their mercy as I ride the wave, floating on the ebbing tide of my orgasm as it ripples over every inch of skin.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Konrad whispers, still stroking my dripping core, dragging out the orgasm as much as possible.
I don’t answer, I can’t. A heavy fatigue settles over me and any moment now I’m expecting it to pull me under, to make me forget, to leave me vulnerable and at their mercy. God knows what they’ll do to me now that I’m like this. I hear their voices as though far away, capturing words here and there. They’re discussing what to do next. Leon and Konrad argue that I’m ripe for the taking, Jakub protests. Like cowards they want to steal my virginity whilst I’m not awake enough to protect it, and there’s me thinking they want the fight.
Well, fuck them. Fuck that.
“NO!” I roar.
Something inside me shifts, clicking into place. My mouth fills with the sudden, sweet taste of honey, reminding me of Thirteen’s kiss. Her eyes had told me a truth I didn’t understand at the time, but as I lay here weakened by their touch, a sudden, potent, oxygen-stealing inferno rages inside my chest, eviscerating The Quickening’s power over me.
I realise then, with utter clarity of mind, body and soul, that Thirteen had given me something to counter the effects of the drug. The sweet liquid she’d trickled into my mouth with her kiss has finally freed my muscles, my lips and mouth. I can now move without the heavy weight keeping me pinned to the table.
I canfight back.
Courage flares. “Get your motherfucking hands off me, you sick, fucked-up excuse for men!” I scream with every last ounce of disgust and rage I feel, kicking out and landing the heel of my foot on Jakub’s chin. His head snaps back and I see the surprise in his eyes before he stumbles backwards from the force of my rage. I don’t think, I act, and crash my head back against Konrad. He cries out, probably in shock more than pain, but it’s enough for him to release his arms. Without thinking I raise my fist and aim it square at Leon’s cheek, pain radiates from my knuckles all the way up my arm, but I ignore it.
Then I leap off the table and run.
My feet slap against the cold stone as I run blindly towards a shadowed corner of the hall. Behind me The Masks get to their feet and I hear the shock in Leon’s voice. “How thefuckis she awake? The Quickening is supposed to knock her the fuck out after she comes.”
I don’t bother to listen to the response. I need to get out of here.
The first door I come across is locked, but I refuse to give up. I move to the next door, my torn dress flapping out behind me like a boat sail in the wind, but that’s locked too.
Still I run, this room becoming another cage I can’t escape from. I’m aware of The Masks watching me, their greedy eyes devouring my fear. I know this is exciting for them, that I’m feeding into their desires, but that innate need to escape, to get as far away from them as possible won’t allow me to sit back and wait for them to hurt me further, not now that I’m thinking clearly. I need to give myself a fighting chance. I can’t allow myself to give in like I had in Jakub’s bedroom.
Running, I keep trying every door until I’ve made a full circle of the hall. Panting and angry and scared, I press my fists against the first set of doors I came across and start pounding against the wood until my fists are bruised and my voice is hoarse. Tears stream down my face, and I swipe at them not caring that I’m rubbing away the makeup I’d so carefully applied earlier today. Not caring that they’ll be able to see my true face.
Drawing in a deep breath, I realise that’s the only thing I have left. The true me. The ugly scarred back, the port wine birthmark. The strange eyes and fiery red hair and freckles that mark me as different.
I thought that by hiding, I would regain control, power, but that was before I understood what motivated them. If I disgust them, then I may save myself from the worst kind of torture. Sure they could kill me, but at least they won’t steal my virginity. At least I’d be spared the pain and degradation of that. The Masks thrive on beauty. Feed off of it, capture it, contain it. They sell beauty to the highest bidder. It’s what theywant. Well, my beauty is fake. It’s a lie.
Ripping off what’s left of my dress, I spit onto the material and use my tears and spit to wipe away as much of the foundation as I can, then discard it before stepping out of the shadows, completely naked.
My head is tipped down slightly as I pad across the floor to where the three of them stand, my hair covering my face in a shroud. I’m shaking so hard with anger that my teeth chatter, adding to the lie. My stance is one of defeat, but that too is a fabrication. Let them think I’ve given up. I want to see the shock on their faces when they finally see who I really am in all my naked glory. They wanted to strip me bare? Well, they’re going to get more than they’d bargained for.
“Have you given up so soon, Nought?” Leon goads, buying into the lie.
“I must say, it was fun whilst it lasted,” Konrad adds, his thick voice as cruel and as sharp as the snap of the leash as he slashes against my bare leg. I barely register the pain.
Jakub steps forward. I know it’s him because I recognise the shoes he wears: expensive leather loafers that kiss the floor lightly as he moves.
“For a moment there, I thought we’d finally met a worthy foe. Alas, jestes po prostu rozczarowanie, Nic.” He reaches for my hair, fisting it. “You’re just a disappointment, Nothing.”
“Oh, I hope so,” I reply, stoic, strong, unflinching in my determination to reveal my true self as I lift my head and meet his gaze.
