Ch. 5: Room

Astrella's point of view

I'm in a room now. I don't know if someone already used this room but I don't care. It's dark, but I like it still. Honestly, it feels like heaven, well, my version of it. The kind where you can hide from everything and everyone. No loud noises, no Dax looming over me with his dramatic speeches about "justice."

But seriously, how do people live like this? What’s next? Will I get a manual on how to endure this endless circus? Or, better yet, do they have an escape route hidden in the walls, like in those fancy spy movies?

A loud noise suddenly shatters my thoughts.

"What in the actual hell are they doing?" It sounds like, I don’t know, a broken chair? Is someone getting beat up? Is there a boombayah happening in the background? What kind of messed-up shenanigan is this?

I freeze, my heart doing a shitty sprint in my chest. "Okay, Astrella, breathe. It's just a really bad game of musical chairs, right? Yeah, totally normal. Totally. Oh my god, who's dying out there?" I whisper to myself, clutching the edge of the bed like it’s a life raft.

The noise gets louder, thuds, muffled yells, and something that sounds suspiciously like a door being slammed. "Oh no. Nope. I am not peeking out there. Curiosity killed the cat, and I am not about to audition for that role tonight," I mutter, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

But then there’s a guttural groan followed by another loud crash. My stomach drops, shibal. "What if they’re coming for me next? Oh, hell no. I am not the main character in this horror movie," I hiss under my breath, glancing around the room for anything remotely weapon-like. A lamp? Too bulky. A pillow? Useless. My shoe? Yeah, because I’m really gonna defeat Dax's minions with a stiletto.

"Great. Just great. I'm in a mansion full of psychopaths, and all I have is sarcasm and zero upper-body strength," I grumble. But then another noise, a sharp crack, makes me jump out of my skin.

"Okay, whoever's out there, just know I’m staying right here. You do your thing, I’ll do mine, quietly surviving. Deal?" My voice is barely a whisper, but the desperation in it feels loud enough to echo.

And yet, despite my better judgment, I inch toward the door. Just a peek, I tell myself. Just to make sure no one’s about to break it down. My hand hovers over the knob, shaking slightly. "If this gets me killed, I’m haunting every single one of these jerks," I mutter, trying to psych myself up.

I press my ear against the wood, holding my breath. The noises have stopped now, replaced by an eerie silence. My heart thunders in my chest, and for a split second, I wonder if I should open the door or just crawl under the bed and wait for the morning.

"What the hell is going on? Get a grip, Astrella. You’re not dying tonight. Not before you figure out how to fly out of here like a butterfly," I whisper, half laughing, half terrified. But the truth is, I’m scared out of my mind.

I swear, if I have to hear another one of those bone-crushing sounds, I'm just gonna stick my head under the pillow and pretend it’s a regular Friday the Thirteenth.

I lean my back against the door, sliding down until I’m sitting on the cold, hardwood floor. I could just lock myself in here and wait. Wait until they get bored. Wait until whatever the hell they’re doing ends. But I know better than to just sit here and hope.

I need a plan. I need something to make them forget I’m here.

I need to disappear.

But there's no way out, is there? I can’t just leave. No more flying away like a butterfly. That fantasy is gone. My thoughts flicker back to Dax. The bastard. He’s still the same manipulative prick. He’s willing to consume everything in his path to get what he wants.

And I’m on that path. His path.

I shiver despite myself, glancing around the room. The shadows seem to close in a little more, the darkness pressing down like a heavyweight. I hate the way it feels like the walls are closing in on me.

But I’m not going to break. Not yet.

I push myself up, standing tall, even though my legs feel weak. There’s a fleeting moment of doubt in my mind, should I just run? Should I make a break for it? But where would I go? I can't trust anyone in this place. Not a single soul. They’re all just pieces on Dax's board, waiting to be moved around for his sick amusement.

And that’s what makes me want to puke.

There it is again the pounding continues, faster now, and I feel it in my chest, in the pit of my stomach.

I turn away from the door, walking to the window instead. The view is breathtaking. Or it would be if I weren't so fvcking angry about everything that’s happened. The city lights stretch for miles, too far away to ever feel real. A false sense of freedom, teasing me from the distance.

I press my forehead against the cold glass, taking a deep breath. I know I have to get out of here. But for now, it’s just about survival. Playing the game. Letting Dax think I’m weak while I figure out how to destroy everything he’s built.

“Hoping my manager and Gaia are already on the move to find me,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. “Because my father? Oh, he’s as useless as a glass hammer in a war zone. Actually, scratch that, he’s worse. At least a glass hammer might give someone a nasty cut before it shatters.”

A loud banging on the door startled me out of my rant, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. What the hell? Can’t these people learn how to knock like civilized humans? Gosh, this might just be my early death—death by heart attack, no less, without a single wound to show for it.

"Hoy! Astrella, open the door!" An extremely loud and annoying voice yelled out. I think that’s Keyu. "Ciejill wants to play with you so bad."

"Leave me alone, ásshole!" I yelled back, not caring if the entire mansion heard me.

A moment of silence followed before Keyu’s voice came again, dripping with amusement. "Well, unless you’re in the mood for a dinner like flesh and blood, I suggest you open up."

My eyes widened, and I bolted to the door faster than I thought possible. I might not like them, but the idea of being dinner was way worse than dealing with whatever this Ciejill was.