Page 3 of Sadistic Obsession (Rise of Phoenyxx #1)

P hoenyxx

I had forgotten what traveling in a car was like. The whir of the tires, the clicking of the turn signal, and the sound of the breeze flying by. The lull of the road and the occasional bump is making me drowsy. The last thing I want to do is fall asleep when I have no clue where I’m being taken.

I sit up straighter in my seat, in the back of this fancy-ass Mercedes. All chrome and leather, it smells crisp and clean. It's all black...like their souls.

“So, when will we arrive?” I tentatively ask.

“When we do,” Betty quips, lips thinned in a frown as she glances back at me. Matthew's hand slides on top of hers, and he surprisingly responds, “We will be there in a few hours.”

I perk up in my seat, taking in the surroundings. All I can see is forest all around, and the lonely, empty stretch of the road ahead. I casually roll the window down a bit, smelling the crisp scent of the vast stretch of trees everywhere. There's not much traffic on the small, one-lane road.

“Can you at least tell me where...” I start to plead, when Matthew cuts me off.

“The Pine Barrens.”

What? I ponder to myself. New Jersey? Why don’t I remember where the hell I even came from? Still, New Jersey seems...familiar.

Realizing there isn’t much more to look at, I sit back in my seat and close my eyes. What seems like minutes pass before I hear Matthew mutter, “We’re here.”

I peer closer as I see an enormous building looming ahead, amongst the trees. It's so isolated, there’s nothing else anywhere for miles! What is this place?

My eyes widen as I take in the biggest structure I’ve ever seen! It's easily three times the size of the ginormous mansion I’ve been in most of my life. There is a large sign sitting to the right of a large gate, complete with guards in a small building.

“The Retreat: Reformation & Education for Troubled Youth”

What in the ACTUAL FUCK is going on? Am I getting pawned off to some fucking reform school? I'm eighteen now, for fuck’s sake!

I bite my tongue hard as we pull up to the front of the building.

It is absolutely MASSIVE! Made up of pale, reddish, older looking stone and brick, it looks like it’s got several stories and is longer than it is wide.

There is a beautiful, manicured lawn and bushes, sprawled out perfectly in the front.

The driveway is circular, winding around from the road that led us to the front doors.

I can see the profiles of other smaller buildings on each side, along with what looks like small courtyards.

I am losing my shit internally. My fingers curl into claws, raking the skin of my upper arms. I pull my hands back to see streaks of crimson.

Mesmerized, I put my fingers in my mouth, swirling my tongue over every drop.

The metallic, slightly sweet taste rushes through me, and I have to bite back a groan. What the hell is wrong with me?

A tall man dressed in a fine grey suit, grey tie knotted perfectly, walks towards the car. He has silver—almost white—hair, and a silver full mustache that turns up on the ends. He leans over to open my door. I rear back in defense, but he just says, “Hello, Dear! I’m Director Stanley Augustine.”

Matthew clears his throat, nodding towards the door.

With a sigh, I reluctantly open the car door and step out, clutching my meager bag to my chest. I look up and close my eyes, savoring the feel of the sun on my face.

It feels like the perfect temperature out here.

It's September, my birth month.It's cool out, neither hot nor cold.

It feels like heaven on my deprived skin.

Betty and Matthew follow me out. “Right this way,” the director gestures towards the front door. I swallow hard as I follow them through the large, heavy doors.

I almost come to a screeching halt when I see the mass of students milling through the building.

The only time in my memory I’ve seen this many people at once was the times I was rewarded for “good” behavior with some monitored DVD movies.

The fucks never let me out of the house.

I avidly devoured every movie I could. I got a thrill every time something beyond a ‘G’ rating was thrown in, unbeknownst to them.

Betty grabs my upper arm and hisses through her teeth, “Don’t fall behind!” I yank my arm back with a glare.

I force my leaden feet to move, following them into an office. The director ushers me into the lone chair sitting in front of his desk.

“Now... Phoenyxx…What is her last name?” he asks.

“Is that really necessary?” Betty bites out.

“Now, Mrs. Solomon, we must have important information about each student. Therefore, if there is no other name known, I will put her down as Phoenyxx Solomon.”

Mr. Augustine clucks his tongue, furrowing his brow. “She has never attended public or private schooling, is that correct?”

“Yes, that is accurate,” Betty replies.

“Well...this is a bit unorthodox, as most students have had some kind of schooling and can acclimate faster,” he replies.

Matthew clears his throat to reply, “Well, the decision to homeschool was a matter of safety. The girl is a danger to herself and others.”

“WHAT?” I jerk my head up, glaring at Matthew.

“I am not dangerous!” Betty shoots me a look that used to scare me.

Key words—USED to. She opens her mouth to threaten me yet again, so I look her dead in her eye.

“Oh, shut it, you old bird!” Her eyes go comically wide, and the director cuts off any reply.

“Of course, Dear. They all say that in the beginning. Now, Miss Solomon, I have your class schedule, required books and notebooks, a map of the campus, a booklet of rules for The Retreat, and a mobile telephone, pre-programmed with important contacts. Please note that the phone cannot be accessed anywhere outside of our campus.” He hands me a large black backpack, loaded down with all the supplies.

“This is the keycard to your room. DON’T lose it.

” He hands me a plastic card, like a credit card.

“I have a question. Why are there older students here? It looks like some of them may be over high-school age.”

He scoffs with dismissal. “You DID read the sign, Dear? This institution helps all young adults. Most are under twenty-six, which is still a decent college age.”

I roll my eyes to myself, nodding at his answer. I go to unzip the top of the backpack and take out the map.

“Now, here is your dorm room assignment,” Augustine hands me a slip of paper with a map and directions to the building my dorm is in. “Kindly locate your room and get comfortable,” he suggests. “One of our female students will be along shortly to give you a tour of the grounds.”

“Wait!” Betty yells as I turn to leave the office. “She DOES have a private room, per our request, yes?”

“Absolutely. I have honored every request,” Augustine confirms, adjusting his tie. He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. “Now run along!”

Without one single fuck given, I head straight out the door, not looking back once at either Matthew or Betty. I am finally free of those sick bastards! FREE!