𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎 — THE CONDITION
Faint groans and muffled sobs filled the four corners of the dim, confined room. At the middle of the room, three ladies in formal gowns were tied each on a rusted pole, facing their backs, looking so miserable — disheveled hairs that once perfectly tied in place; ripped hems of once glittering gowns now full of dirt and crease. The tight blindfold in their eyes did nothing to stop the tears wetting their cheeks for quite a while now.
The lingering smell of dead rats assaulted their noses, making them wanted to puke everything they've got in their stomach. The continuous dripping of water from the ceiling sounded like the ticking of a clock, reminding them how long they had been locked up in that filthy room — without any idea as to why and how they ended up in such a place.
They were whispering reassuring words to each other a few minutes ago when they've had woken up in such a dire state, but eventually forced into silence when a gruff man waltzed into the room and started beating one of them. They shouted and cursed all the cusses they knew, but they knew better that it won't help at all. Cries of pleading followed after. Knowing how helpless they were, all they could do was to follow what they were told so. Or else . . .
"It hurts," the lady in peach mermaid gown cried softly, bringing more tears to her other friend. The side of her lips was bruised and busted. "I-It h-hurts."
The lady in a blood-red balloon gown to her left shifted, sniffing. "H-Hang in there. I-I'm sure someone will come for us."
"I'm going to kill that bastard!" valiantly spat by the last lady in a black-laced free-flowing dress.
As long as she uttered the last word, a loud bang from outside the door startled them.
"Silence!"
Deafening silence instantly fell over the ladies. It wasn't long live, though, when the lady in peach mermaid gown's soft cries yet again filled the room. As if on cue, the second lady in a blood-red balloon gown joined her friend. And though the third lady fought her best not to shed a tear, to keep grounded for their sake, hot tears began to well up in her electric blue orbs and streamed down her reddening cheeks as she realized that acting tough wouldn't save them from their predicament.
"Tessa . . ." she softly called out for the lady in peach mermaid gown to her left. "H-Hang in there, love," she choked, "we'll get through this."
"I w-wanna go h-home. It hurts so much." The lady's cries grew even louder, hiccuping in the process. "I don't wanna die!"
Tessa's desperate cries crushed her heart to pieces. Had they weren't bounded and blindfolded, she would surely encage her in an embrace to console and soothe her somehow.
"You will not die!" she managed to hiss. "None of us will! Am I right, CC?"
The lady in a blood-red gown to her right shifted on her seat, sending mild shaking on the rusted pole they were bounded. "R-Right. Help will come, Tessa." Her voice cracked in between. "I-I'm sure s-someone will."
Thank you, my dear.
She may not say it out loud, but she badly needed that reassurance as much as her two friends. Celestine's undying positiveness was what they all needed at the moment. It might be a loose talk in their current case, but for her, it was more than enough to harden herself and stay grounded . . . for them.
"Hear that, love?" she cooed. "So be strong. I need you guys to stay strong. Don't give up on me. Don't you dare give up or I'll curse your progenies of eternal bad luck!"
It was a vain attempt to lift their crushed spirits at such state they were thrust into.
She swallowed the huge lump in her throat.
She knew. She knew too well.
Vain, it may be, but it somehow did the work. Tessa somehow calmed down, and she could no longer hear Celestine's stifled sobs. She bit her bottom lip, fighting another round of hot tears threatening to soak her blindfold yet again.
Just it then, a loud bang boomed around the confined room, startling them. An ear-piercing squeaking sound of a metal door opening from outside followed after. Heavy footsteps rushed into the room, stopping close to them.
Her face hardened as she strained her ears to focus.
A prolonged clucking of the tongue. She pictured the person shaking ahead along with it. She was amidst imagining the features of the menacing presences standing before them when her blindfold was yanked out of her eyes, wincing when it grazed the stinging small cut in her left eyebrows.
Adjusting her eyes, she squinted at the figure a meter away from her. Her narrowed eyes gradually widened as she took in the appearance of the Spanish man sitting crossed-legged at an arm-length-sized pipe protruding from the concrete floor.
Her jaw almost dropped to the ground. Instinctively, her head whipped to the lady on her right who was uncontrollably trembling. A poignant sensation crept into every fiber of her body as realization dawned upon her. The cries she fought so hard to reign slowly bubbled up in her throat, almost choking her. She turned her attention back to the man.
His gaze lingered for a while to the lady on her right before it fell back on her. Blood seemed to escape her face as her inside quavered at the devious smile plastered on the Spanish man's well-defined face.
"Hola sigñorita, Stella."
NUMB. AN APT WORD to perfectly describe Celestine as tears endlessly streamed down her cheeks while staring right through the glass windows of a balcony to her left with her eyes devoid of any emotion.
Sitting with her back against the headboard, she was motionless. Her puffy eyes seemed to weigh a ton already from crying, but she didn't give a damn. Her sudden change of clothing which she had remembered a black blouse and skinny jeans yesterday, was now a burgundy sweater and cotton shorts. That, she didn't bother to question at all.
Exhausted. She was too exhausted to even care about the brain-wrecking pain of her head due to excessive drinking yesterday. Even the unfamiliar room she had woken up didn't give her that much of a hysteric.
Too tired to give a damn.
She tightly shut her eyes.
I just want to rest.
She remained in that position for
some time. A hollow space growing bigger and wider in her chest as seconds trickled by. Hallow it may be, yet its weight seemed to pin her down the ground. Tears finally stopped from falling in her eyes, and all that was left was the dried path they had carved in her pale cheeks.
Just then, the door swung open from outside. Light footsteps waltzed into the room towards her direction, but she seemed not to hear anything at all, even when it stopped just at the foot of the bed. Her eyes fluttered. From the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of an extremely familiar figure standing like a sentinel there.
"Milady, it's time for breakfast."
Blinking once, she swung her feet out of the bed and set it on the well-polished wooden floor matted with a soft reddish-brown rag by the bedside. She stood up, grateful that she managed to steady her wobbling knees.
"Would you like to use the toilet before heading to the breakfast table, milady?"
She connected her lifeless gaze to Lucas'. For a fraction of second, she wondered if the emotion that promptly crossed his jade orbs before it mirrored hers was that of sheer pity or mere compassion. She shoved it both aside and just nodded in response.
"This way." Lucas sauntered towards the door parallel to the bed. Twisting the knob, he pushed it and turned to face her again. "Come inside, milady."
Her limbs acted on their own. Lucas stepped aside as she passed by and went straight to the sink with a rectangular mirror. Absentmindedly doing her business, she failed to notice the sink's plug was still on and the lashing tap water was already flowing over the top.
With her lower abdomen leaning against the sink, the lower part of her burgundy sweater got soaked as well as her cotton shorts.
Someone sighed behind her.
"Come on, milady."
Celestine let Lucas dragged her out of the toilet after he removed the plug and turned off the faucet.
Lucas let go of Celestine at the foot of the bed, and took the maroon paper bag in the solo cushion seat by the glass window, then handed it to the still spacing out Celestine.
"I'll leave you to change, milady. I'll be waiting outside."
A nod of a head. It was all he needed to get out of the room and patiently wait outside.
Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty . . .
Lucas blew a deep breath out of his mouth. Raising his balled fist mid-air, he was about to pound it against the door when it opened up from inside. His gaze instantly connected with Celestine's set of brown orbs narrowing into slits.
"What are you doing?"
His eyebrows twitched. Something about her demeanor shift. Gone was the lifeless gaze she had earlier. All he could see was the glint of determination swirling in her eyes.
Bringing down his hand to the side, he stepped aside. "I was about to check on you, milady. Breakfast is served at the kitchen."
Nodding, Celestine stepped out of the room, and walked over the six-step concrete stairs, following Lucas' lead. Descending, they turned left to an arching entryway, and a long table enough for six people greeted her sight. A topless man of tall stature and fit physique with a white apron wrapped on his waist was maneuvering in the kitchen stove, flipping something with the pan in the air which she presumed pancakes.
Celestine abruptly stopped on her track, feet glued by the entryway into the kitchen, as she took in the familiar figure who still had his bare back on them. Eyes gradually widening, she watched as his short, tousled dark curly hair seemingly bounced as he expertly flipped the pancakes on the pan, muscles at the back flexing at every turn.
"L-Leo."
The man's back stiffened, momentarily freezing on the spot, and missed the pancake tossed midair. He clucked his tongue. "What a waste." Looking over his shoulders, his brows furrowed as he trained his sharp, chocolate eyes on her. "Why don't you sit down and not just stand there like an absolute idiot? Did my godly features render you speechless again this time?"
Her eyes narrowed into slits, burning holes at the back of his head who went back working.
Someone cleared his throat beside her. "Watch your words, Leo."
Leo scoffed, bringing the three plates of four-layered pancakes each glazed with syrup over the table. "Quit staring, Celestine, and just eat up before I change my mind and give it to Dundee instead."
At the mention of the dog's name, the soft thumping of paws against the polished wooden floor drew closer to the kitchen and then appeared Dundee from behind. The dog stopped by Celestine's side and lied on the floor close to her feet.
"It was really you, then," she muttered, earning a pointed look from Leo. "The one I saw who was jogging down the trail in gray hood upon my arrival here."
"Congrats, Sherlock," he snickered, rolling his eyes.
Her lips pursed as she slowly could feel the heat gradually accumulating in her head. "Despicable as always, I see."
"Oh, don't start me, Celestine. We both know we're equally the same, though just shown differently," he said, pointing a fork to her.
She jabbed hers to her pancake, smiling sickly sweet at him. "Not all the time birds with same feathers flocks together, eh? Indeed, Leo. Indeed." Her jaw clenched. "But at least I'm no coward. Don't you think?"
"I was not."
"Then, where the hell were you when Stella—"
He set down the fork on the table with a force. "Don't you dare say her name," he said with a gritted teeth.
"It was your name she uttered the last," she almost whispered.
Leo's fist turned white as he shot her a murderous glare.
Celestine didn't have to guess what Leo could have possibly doing in such an isolated place called Marsh Island. After all that happened from the past hours, she seemed to cynically connect every single thing to Esotera Court, and the limited people residing in it. Somehow, her instinct told her that Leo was in the same line of servitude as Lucas and not the dickwad she always thought he was before everything went spiraling to the abyss. If that was so, then no wonder he was always around Stella before.
But then and again, if she would consider such speculation, then would that also mean that her best friends were once had a connection to the Esotera Court and the people in it? Then, would that also somehow explain the application letter of her forged handwriting?
Her stomach churned at the thought. If that was indeed the case, she could somehow pin the blame on them as well. But no, she almost forgot, it wasn't even their fault. It was hers. All hers.
But . . . how did it be because of her? What did she do to those people who wanted her dead?
Wild guesses ran wildly through her mind as she cast her head down, glaring at the syrup glazed over the pancake.
She had to know. She had to know or else she might ultimately kill herself for the overflowing guilt stabbing every living will of her system.
Beside her, Lucas yet again cleared his throat, dragging her back from her deep thoughts. Sighing, she took the fork stabbed over her pancake, and started digging.
She definitely needed it for what about to happen next.
CELESTINE'S RIGHT HAND hesitantly reached out to grab the golden knob of Victor's office just to drop it back to her side yet again for the fifth time.
Lucas heaved a sigh behind her. "Would you like me to do it for you, milady?"
"N-No." She gulped. "I can manage."
Bringing her balled hand against the door, Celestine knocked thrice. The familiar voice urging her inside resonated from the other side.
Her body froze, unable what to do next once she had finally said the magic words to the vile manager of Esotera Court.
The lines she had to say . . . She had already rehearsed them over and over again in her head on their way there. Yet, the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to continue its somersault without a rest.
"L-Lucas," she drawled.
Lucas shuffled behind her. "Yes, milady?"
"Do you remember what you promised last night?"
Lucas's shoulders tensed. His almost bulging eyes fixated on her back, astonished by the fact that she remembered the things that happened the other night. He quickly caught himself and answered. "Which of those, milady?"
Her head whipped back to him, eyebrows furrowing and lips slightly protruding. "That you're—" She paused, cheeks beet red. "Nevermind," she said, turning back to the door. "Just please don't leave me inside with him. His enthusiasm scares the living cheese out of me."
The side of his lips tugged into a small smile. She was back. Lucas didn't know what kind of pep talk she had with herself before they headed to the breakfast table, but he was somehow relieved. "Duly noted, milady."
Celestine mumbled a quick thanks before finally twisting the golden knob. Lucas, who was already by her side, had to push it inside when her body went frozen on the spot yet again.
Inhaling every air of courage, she audibly exhaled and waltzed inside with Lucas trailing behind.
"Ah, it's you again, Miss Vasquez!"
Her eyes fell on the figure seated behind the mahogany desk, eyebrows cocking up at its sight. His once unorganized table was now clear of the stack of papers and towers of thick books. Only the silver-white laptop, a white mug of black coffee, and a rectangular picture frame facing its back on her were there.
At the corner of her eyes, she caught a movement on her right side. Her gaze briefly shifted there only to catch the soft slamming of the door.
Diverting her gaze from it, she regarded Victor with a slight nod of a head. "Morning, Mr. Ferreira."
Victor hummed. "I'm assuming you came here for your answer."
She grimly nodded, bringing a wide grin on Victor's face.
"So, what's your decision, Miss Vasquez?"
"I will do it," she answered in a heartbeat.
Victor beamed. "Excellent choice!"
"But in one condition."
The radiant expression in his face immediately flickered out as he leaned back to his swivel chair, turning it ever so slightly side to side. "Miss Vasquez," he sighed, massaging his temple. "I think you're misunderstanding something here. You don't get to have a choice. We made it, not yours to formulate."
Her teeth gritted at the message he was trying to send across. She was also well aware of the deadly glares she was shooting at him. One more word from him and she would surely snap. Victor Ferriera seemed extremely skilled at pushing people's buttons.
Before she could even ruin everything, she reigned herself. "I'm well aware of the situation I'm putting myself into, Mr. Ferriera. I know all too well, too, that the moment I agreed to this bullshit your humble office forcefully impose, I no longer have the freedom to decide for myself in almost any matter. Now, if you'd really want my cooperation; before you made me do things I surely don't wanna do, you'd grant me this only condition I'm asking."
"And why would I do that?"
"Because you already implied it the last time we talked, Mr. Ferriera," she paused, "I'm here for a reason. And whoever pulling your strings surely won't go on extreme measures just to bring me here in my own volition. And you said it yourself as well that you no longer had to pretend for my sake." She tilted her head to the side as she crossed her arms to her chest. "Then, it's safe to assume that I'm someone with great importance, wasn't I?"
Victor chuckled, seemingly amused at what she had said. He clasped his hands together, placing it over his cross-legged knee. "I commend your thorough analysis, Miss Vasquez. What you said is indeed true. But don't you know that I could easily eradicate you in just a snap of my fingers?"
I'm getting into your nerves now, don't I?
She laughed at the back of her mind.
"You could have done it right at this moment, but seeing your aide didn't do anything yet, you just can't. Am I right, Mr. Ferriera?"
At the mention, the door to the right swung open from the inside, and then stepped out the same man she saw trailing behind Victor at buffet hall. Her eyes widened for a second before briefly looking at Lucas behind her.
Lucas only gave her a small smile.
Victor's aide nodded his head to her. His long, white hair set in high ponytail falling to one side, and walked off by the mahogany tale where laid a stack of few books. Taking it, he slightly bowed his head to her and sauntered back on the door he emerged from.
Victor chortled, cutting her off from her wonder. "Your arrogance is overwhelming, Miss Vasquez."
A frown instantly made its way to her face. She no longer going to deny it; she dislike Victor. As seconds trickled by, the mere dislike she felt for him gradually turned to utter hate. And she wouldn't be surprised if that would eventually be replaced by a passionate loathness in the future. The four-eyed manager did have a knack for pissing people off with just a few words.
"Had this conversation happened in an entirely different situation, I might apologize." She almost reveled at the scrunching of his face as he scowled at her, showing how much she was getting under his skin. Good. At least, she somehow got back on him. "But I'll save it later, Mr. Ferreira." She shrugged her shoulders. "I hope you don't mind, though."
"Tread with utmost care around me, Miss Vasquez." It was like the last time. Every hint of emotion in Victor's face was stripped off as he stared back at her with dead eyes. His enthusiasm that irked her dearly dropped to zero. "Lemme hear your condition, then?"
Celestine knew that from there then on, she would be constantly scrutinized by him. The man was obviously pissed at her but preferred to handle the matter professionally instead of straight out strangling her on the spot. She knew he was dying to watch her miserably tumbled in whatever situation he had set for her. She knew. She knew 'cause she felt it either way.
Way to keep me alive from this mess.
Without breaking eye contact, Celestine fired away, crossed fingers behind her back.
"Let me go home."
✴