Chapter Twenty-Seven
The grimy beige walls of my drab cell have been swapped for an austere but spotlessly clean room with walls of sparkling white and a shining tiled floor of crystal blue. It is enormous, and though my surroundings have brightened, my existence continues to be that of extreme boredom interspersed with moments of terror and slow anguish.
At the factory a gleeful Ilona had hooked her leash to the rings hanging from my nostril cord, tugged with firmness to send an initial message of control, then led me out of my cell for the last time. Following behind at a respectful distance was a guard with a cattle prod, but the incapacitating device was certainly not necessary to assure my utmost compliance to Ilona’s mischievous hand. The slightest pull sent waves of pain through m
