Page 33 of Devoured

“The speculum opens them up nicely,”Dr. Alan chirped, cheerful. “Let’s see how wide we can go.”

Behind me, Tobias choked out a moan. “Fuck, gonna—”

He finished with a grunt, hand buried in his pants. The sharp, sour smell of semen filled the hallway as he wiped himself off on his uniform without shame.

The noises from inside the office got worse—slapping, choking, the raw percussion of power and cruelty.

“They’ll go for hours,”Tobias murmured, eyes glassy. “Sometimes all night.”

I staggered back, the floor tipping beneath me. I was going to be sick. My mouth filled with acid.

Sela was suddenly beside me, like she’d stepped out of the shadows. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a strange flicker—something that might have once been empathy. Or survival.

“Seen enough?”

“They’re torturing her—”I gasped.

“Yes. They are.”Sela took my elbow. Her touch was steady, grounding. “And if you burst in there playing hero, they’ll do the same to you. Maybe worse. Tonight was supposed to be your turn, but Marion volunteered herself instead.”

“Why?”I asked, voice breaking.

“Because she’s an idiot who thinks she’s protecting you.”Sela’s grip tightened as she steered me away. “Don’t waste what she’s giving you by getting yourself thrown in there too.”

She guided me down the hall—but not before I heard Marion scream again. Real this time. Raw.

“How—”The words scraped out rough. “How can you work here? How can you let this happen?”

Sela’s expression hardened. “Because someone has to be here when girls like Marion need patching up afterward. Someone who actually knows how to set bones and stitch wounds without asking questions.”Her grip remained on my arm. “I can’t stop them. I tried that my first year here. You know what happened? They made me watch while they worked on my roommate. Six hours.”

“But Marion—”

“Marion made a choice. She went to them knowing what would happen. She’s been here long enough to know their patterns.”Sela paused, choosing her words carefully. “They won’t kill her. They never kill them. Death ends the fun too quickly.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”I let out a mirthless laugh.

“It’s supposed to make you smart.”

We reached my room. As she unlocked the door, she met my eyes. “Every patient here gets their turn in that room. Some sooner, some later. But everyone goes eventually. The only choice is whether you go on your feet—or get dragged.”

“So you want me to just accept it?”

“I want you to survive.”She replied.

She pushed me inside, but her hand lingered on my arm. “That’s all any of us can do. Survive. And remember that this place... it’s older than it looks. And some things that happen here aren’t what they seem.”

Before I could ask what she meant, she closed the door.

I stood there shaking—not with fear, but with rage so pure it felt like fire under my skin. Marion was being torn apart just because she cared for me. Because in this place, caring about someone was a weakness they exploited.

The dream pulled me down like an undertow, but this time it felt different. Not like falling asleep—like being dragged backward through time itself.

The room around me flickered. My cell. Then stone. Then my cell again. The walls seemed to argue about which century they belonged to. My head spun violently, and then—

I stood in a stone chamber.

My feet were bare on stones worn smooth by countless footsteps over countless years. I was still in my hospital scrubs, but no one looked at me. No one saw me. I was there—but not there. A ghost watching the past..

People in brown robes filled the chamber. Hundreds of them, packed against the walls. Their hoods hid their faces, but I could feel their fear.