Dark Embrace

8

DAISY

The sunlight coming in between the huge curtains shone on my eyes. I didn't take my eyes away from it and just lay helplessly on the bed.

I heard the door creaked open, and a figure stepped in. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered if it was him - the deranged man who claimed to have taken me because he "fancied" me.

I turned my head, my eyes scanning the room. It was the young lady who always brought me breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner. She carried a tray with a steaming cup and a plate of food.

"I brought you brunch."

I stared at her, unsure what to say. Was she in on it? Of course, she was.

"Who are you?" I asked.

The lady set the tray down on the bedside table. "I'm just a servant," she replied. "My name is Giulia."

I watched her, searching for any sign of deception. But her expression remained impassive.

"What am I locked up? And who is that man?" I asked, my eyes locked on hers.

Giulia's gaze dropped, and she busied herself with arranging the food on the plate. "You're a guest here." She said quietly.

A guest? I was a prisoner, taken against my will. But I didn't correct her. Instead, I asked, "What does he want from me?"

"I don't know," she said. "But I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." She immediately left, and an older lady walked in. Her hair was neatly packed like Giulia's and a terrifying look crossed her face.

"I will be back in fifteen minutes to dress you up for lunch so take your time to eat." She said calmly but her face said otherwise.

"Lunch with who? That deranged man?" She didn't reply and just left, locking the door on the other side. I was trapped, again.

I stared at the food- hot tea and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in a while. But the thought of eating, of accepting their hospitality, felt like surrender. I pushed the tray away, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of escape or clue about my situation. But there was nothing. Just the same cold room that looked like something vomited from the 1950s. The bed I lay on had a weird, curved headboard. The huge curtains hung from the high ceiling, making the room feel even more outdated. Floral wallpapers, candlestick holders, a wooden table with curved legs and a dresser with big, old-fashioned knobs. It all felt like a time capsule or something. Even the clock on the dresser looked ancient. Everything was spotlessly clean, but that only made the old-fashioned decor feel more eerie. Oh, petal.

I heard the sound of the door unlocking and the old lady walked in again, it was then I realized I had been staring at the food for fifteen minutes.

This time, it wasn't the old lady that was in the room, two young ladies, their hair neatly packed like the old lady's were behind her and were holding a clothing rack full of weird-looking clothes— short shirts that didn't look like they'd fit me, skimpy dresses that look like they'd show my butt-cheeks.

"You want me to wear those?" There was no way I was putting myself in those w***e looking clothes.

"You didn't touch your food." The old hag ignored my question.

"Cause I didn't want to." I retorted.

She gave the ladies behind her a nod and the ladies started approaching me. They lifted me by my arms.

"What—what are you doing?" I struggled but their grip on me was strong or maybe I couldn't release myself because I was weak.

The old hag starts taking my clothes off. "Hey, stop." She didn't listen and continued till I was fully naked.

"The sooner you accept, the easier it is for you." She said.

"What does that even mean?" I asked

"Take her to the bathroom."

"Let me go." I kept struggling but my efforts were in vain. They started bathing for me like I was some kid. I eventually gave in and stopped struggling.

From the bathroom, they prepped my hair and had it down, I didn't say anything even though I preferred my hair up in a bun. They dolled me up, applying different cosmetics to my face. Next was fitting me into those w***e looking clothes. The old hag picked out a white, tight and short gown, extremely short. They were able to put it on me but they couldn't zip it up.

"It's too tight." I said but they didn't listen. After minutes of grunting and breathing heavily, they were able to zip it up. I felt like a stuffed sausage. The dress was so tight it felt like it was choking me. I couldn't breathe properly. The old lady stepped back and examined me like I was some kind of doll. She handed one of the ladies white heels, they looked about six inches. I don't wear heels and if I did, it doesn't even look like I could walk in them.

"Escort her out, it's almost time for lunch." She said to the two ladies behind me. Who was I having lunch with? That deranged man? I tried to ask again, but the old lady just turned and walked out, leaving the two younger women to escort me out of the room.

I walked out of the room, my heels clicking on the floor. The two ladies followed me to the stairs. I looked down and saw a lot of steps - like 30 or something. At the bottom of the stairs, I saw him - the deranged man. He was talking to another guy in Italian. I knew it was Italian because I'd treated an Italian before, a prisoner to be precise. The deranged man was wearing his usual black suit and white shirt. The other guy was facing him, so I couldn't see his face.

I started going down, one step at a time. My heels felt wobbly and my dress felt like it was going to rip at any moment, and I was scared of tripping and falling. The two ladies stood at the top of the stairs, watching me with blank expressions. The deranged man was still talking to the other guy, but his eyes were on me, scanning me from head to toe. I felt weird.

I took another step, but my heel caught on the last step. I stumbled, my arms flailing wildly. But before I could fall, he caught me. His broad shoulders and chest pressed against me, and I could smell his cologne. It was overpowering.

I quickly pushed myself away from him, trying to maintain some distance. His brows creased slightly, which surprised me. His face was always like a statue - expressionless. His eyes, his chin, everything was always still.

"Rosa." He called and the old hag that dressed me earlier rushed in. His eyes darkened further as he examined the dress on me.

"Why did you dress her like w***e?"

She replied him in Italian and he talked back to her in Italian, I just stood there, feeling uncomfortable and confused. I didn't understand what they were saying, but his tone was angry. The old lady, Rosa, looked sorry, and his face was still expressionless, but his eyes seemed darker, colder.

Rosa turned to me, "Come with me."

"No, she can't walk in those." He said, referring to the heels. "Bring the dresses here, she will change here." Rosa nodded and left. The deranged man muttered something in Italian to the guy next to him and the guy left. It was only the both of us in the room now.

We stood there, staring at each other. The silence was uncomfortable, but I didn't look away. I took a deep breath and asked, "What are you going to do to me?" My voice was shaking, but I tried to sound brave. He didn't respond, he just kept staring at me.

My legs were starting to ache really bad.

"Take them off." He commanded.

I looked at him defiantly, refusing to obey since he didn't answer my question. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being disobeyed. Without a word, he bent down and removed the heels from my feet himself. His fingers brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my feet back, trying to create some distance between us.

Rosa and the other ladies returned with a bunch of dresses. The deranged man sat down in a nearby chair, his eyes fixed on me. I felt weird as the ladies started removing the dress. "Why does he have to be here?" I protested, trying to cover myself. But they just ignored me.

They removed the gown, leaving me in just my cream lace pant and bra. His eyes scanned me, his gaze making me feel like an object. He rubbed his chin, his face still. I hated him.