In Fury Lies Mischief (Midnight Mayhem 2)

I pause, holding my breath. She’s weird, she talks funny, and her eyes are those of a corpse. Who is this girl?

She kneels down beside me, watching for my reaction. As if a child has just given you something they’re proud of, without understanding how to express themselves. That is her. Her eyes are wide, her mouth agape, as if she’s fascinated.

“What?” I ask, searching her face. The more I look at her, the more I find her fascinating. I’ve never encountered a girl like this before.

She points to the dollhouse and I follow her gesture until I look closer. The doll is standing in a bedroom, wearing the exact clothes that I have on. The house looks familiar, but I can’t touch the surface of what it is.

“Is this yours?” I ask, still unsure on how old she is.

She shakes her head.

I look closer. The bedroom where the doll is has a four-post bed pushed against the wall with boy band and rock band posters on the wall.

My mind wants to reach for the similarities, but just as I squeeze my fist around it, the memories disappear in a cloud of fog.

“Do you know what they want from me here?” I try my hand at asking the question I want to know.

She smiles again, nodding her head.

“What is it?”

She shrugs. “You.”

The girl leaves not long after that, and I’m back curled in a fetal position, my eyes closing.

The door opens again and I slowly raise my eyes up, hoping to see the girl from earlier, only it’s not.

The same man dressed in the suit is back in my room wearing a different suit, and two armed guards on either side of him.

He kneels down in front of me. “Saskia, such raw beauty. The finest. So untouched.”

I flinch away from the way his finger runs down my cheek.

He laughs smugly. “Oh it’s too late for that, Little Doll, for I already took you when you were of age.” The man stands, clicking his fingers to the shackles around my ankles. “Unleash her, she will not leave me, and I have a gift for her.” I don’t move as the men unlatch my ankles and handcuffs. I squeeze my wrists and stand to my feet.

“Why are you letting me out of the shackles?”

He leans forward. “Because the gift that I’m about to give to you, will ensure you remain here.” I don’t answer. I can’t.

“What is going on?”

He grins, walking out of the room as the two men step behind me. They shove me forward when I don’t follow him.

Black walls and red trimmings. It’s a rude awakening from the soft pinks of the room I’ve spent however long in. We pass doors, similar to the one I came out of, only when I take peeks inside them, they’re all either pink or blue. Nothing else and nothing more. We reach a set of stairs and walk down them, landing in the lobby where glass white tiles are spread over the floor. Gold trimmings line the stark white walls. It’s immaculate and reeks of opulence. You wouldn’t know that just upstairs, there are rooms where this sick fuck must lock people in. My heart sinks. I miss Midnight Mayhem. I miss my friends.

I miss Killian.

Just the thought of Killian has my throat tight.

“Come on, Saskia, your gift might expire…” The old man directs us to an area where a white U-shaped sofa greedily owns the room.

“Sit.” He points to the sofa, and it’s then that I see the young girl standing behind the only other chair in the room that is sitting opposite the U-lounge.

I do.

“Lay down.” He points. “On your stomach.” I hesitate, and he raises a dark eyebrow. “Do I need to inflict force?”

I shake my head, dropping down.

As soon as my face hits the cushions, hands are clenched around my head. He massages my scalp as another tune starts playing. One I don’t recognize.

I feel myself getting tired. My eyes are heavy, my brain struggling to form any sentences.

“Saskia, there’s a box. Can you see it?” the voice starts. I don’t recognize the voice, and I know it’s not the old man’s. “Grab it.”

I squeeze my fists together, fighting the frustration. “I—”

“Shhh…” A hand caresses my cheek. “Just unleash yourself, Little Doll. You can do it. Grab the box.”

In the corner of the room, a bright light illuminates, revealing a worn, old leather box. It looks more like a chest.

“Do you see it?” he whispers, his breath invading the side of my cheek.

I flinch away from him, but find myself reaching for the box.

“Open it.”

My fingers flick the metal claw, flipping the lid open. I’ve lost my ability to speak, but the scream that tears out from my lips is primal and unnatural. My scream is loud enough to reach Hell, which is good, because all of my friends live there. My limbs shake, my lips trembling as every single memory infects my brain at once…