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FORTY-FIVE

FREYA

I woke up in a single bed in an unknown house. The sheets smelled faintly of lavender, but the air held a sterile, unsettling chill.

My body felt different. I looked down, seeing pink pajamas. Someone had dressed me. My hands trembled as I reached for my hair, feeling how it was braided into two neat pigtails draping over my shoulders, then to my forehead, touching the short strands. They cut my bangs too. My stomach twisted.

In front of me was a large mirror, slightly dusty, making my reflection unsettle me. To my right side, there was only one wooden door, with its knob taken from the inside.

“Hello?” I called, my voice breaking the silence. “Where am I?”

No answer. My words just echoed between the empty walls.

A soft knock came as I reached the middle of the room.

I flinched as the door creaked open. A girl stood there, dressed in a pink dress that looked stuck in time. Her blonde hair, tied into two pigtails, framed her pale face. But as she turned, my breath hitched in my throat.

Her lips were sewn shut. Thick, black thread crossed over her mouth in three tight Xs. And the doll makeup on her face only made the image of her more haunting.

I gasped, stumbling back, but she didn’t lunge. Instead, she shook her head as if trying to calm me. Her fingers trembled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

I hesitated before taking it, my fingers were stiff with fear.

At the bottom, a tic-tac-toe grid was drawn, the letters A and O filling the boxes in a game with no winner.

The girl took a step back, then another, before slipping out the door, closing it gently behind her.

A shiver ran through me. My chest filled with regret. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have let my pride get in the way. If I had just stayed with Lucius, if we had just talked, maybe none of this would have happened. Now, I was alone, trapped in this nightmare.

The door creaked open again.

This time, another woman entered.

She wore a white dress, the bottom hem and sleeves lined with a thin strip of red. Her steps were light and slow, and as she moved, a soft melody hummed from her lips. My heart clenched. I knew that tune. It was the same lullaby from the music box I had found in Adeline’s room.

She walked backward, wheeling into a table with a dollhouse on top. The house structure was detailed, and its rooms were made like a perfect miniature replica.

And when she turned, my stomach dropped.

“Blue?” I whispered, my throat tightening. “What the fuck?”

She grinned. “Surprise,” she said with a chuckle, tapping the dollhouse roof. “Do you like it?” She pointed at the rooms, her voice light, almost playful. “This is your room. This is Ava’s. And this one—this one was for Luna. Since Stella had to be all smart and figure things out.”

A chill crawled up my spine. “You—“ My voice cracked. “You killed Stella?”

She rolled her eyes, amused. “I just gave her a little push.” She flicked her wrist in a casual demonstration.

My breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. “You’re sick.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

“Are you A?” I forced out, my voice barely a whisper.

Her smirk widened. “Oh wow, you finally got it, Sherlock. Congratulations.” She let out a small laugh before pulling something from her pocket. It was a needle and thick black thread.

My body tensed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” My voice was barely controlled by panic.

Blue twirled the needle between her fingers, her eyes getting darker. “Let’s just say some secrets are better sealed .”

“No,” I whispered, turning to run. But before I could take more than a step, something jerked me back.

I collapsed onto the cold floor with a painful thud.

That’s when I saw I was chained to bed. They were locked around my ankles. I hadn’t even noticed them until now.

Blue crouched down beside me, her needle poised. “Now, let’s fix that little mouth of yours, shall we?” she whispered, winking.

I screamed.

She moved closer, standing over me, her shadow swallowing what little light was in the room. Her breath was warm against my skin as she leaned in, needle glinting between her fingers. I thrashed harder than I ever had before.

But two men came in, their hands were like iron clamps around my wrists, pinning me down.

Blue hummed the lullaby again, slow and sweet, as she pressed the needle under my upper lip. A sharp sting, then a deeper, burning pain as the thread pulled tight, binding my lips together. The needle piercing through flesh, pulling, tightening. Up, and down, until she sewed the first X.

The worst feeling in the world isn’t screaming, it’s learning how to scream and having to keep it inside. It’s choking on the pain, swallowing it down until it rots you from within.

Lucius, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

I should have stayed. I should have chosen you when you wanted to change. I should have believed in you. Instead, I called you a monster. I ran. I left you alone. But you were never the monster, not even close. You were just a man who needed love, and I failed you. I failed myself. I was blind. I was stupid.

When she finished sewing the last X, she stood back, admiring her work. The men released me, and my body slumped as they carried me back to the bed, my limbs weak, my face burning with pain.

Blue turned, smoothing her dress, and sighed as if bored.

“Lucius never learned his lesson,” she mused. “He was supposed to let you go, but he never did. So now, you’re paying for it.”

I couldn’t respond. I could only let my tears spill down my cheeks, mixing with the blood slowly dripping from my sealed lips.

“He will learn now,” she nodded to herself. “And if you think he’ll come for you, you’re wrong. This place isn’t easy to find.”

He’s alive.

Thank God, he’s alive.

She turned around, the men followed her, the door closed with a soft click. The silence that followed was deafening.

I lay there, motionless, everything sinking into my bones.

You never really know someone. You think you do, you laugh with them, cry with them, share secrets and dreams. You love them, you build memories, you trust them. But you never truly know the mask they hide beneath.

Look at the person beside you.

Do you really know them?

Do you know if there’s even a sliver of darkness inside them? Do you know if they would snap when you say the wrong thing? Would they shove you against a wall when things turn bad? Would they stay by your side when you’re sick, when you can’t speak when you can’t even get up?

And even if you think you do—do you? Do you really?

My friend. My friend played the part so well. My friend stalked me, manipulated me, gaslighted me, and played a game with me. My friend killed our friend. My friend sewed my mouth shut and stole my words, my voice, my ability to scream. My friend took me away from the man I love and locked me away so he would never find me.

My friend smiled at me and told me everything would be okay, all while she was the reason I was not okay.

My friend betrayed me. And I learned my lesson.

And the hardest lesson I learned today?

How to be alone again.

Stuck in this endless game of lessons learned, my mouth shut for the first round of secrets sealed.

To be continued...