The world is spinning.
I open my eyes to a mess of shifting shadows and flickering lights, my body aching as though I've been shattered and pieced together with jagged glass. The air is damp, heavy, and reeks of smoke and earth. I try to focus, but everything feels off—wrong.
I groan, my voice a hoarse rasp, and shift slightly, feeling the sharp sting of cuts and bruises across my skin. My fingers curl into the dirt beneath me, the sensation gritty and cold. Somewhere in the distance, I hear voices.
"She's here!"
The shout pierces through the fog in my mind, jolting me into awareness. My heart pounds, adrenaline flooding my veins, but I'm too weak to do more than lift my head. Blurry shapes move closer, dark figures against the backdrop of smoldering wreckage.
Who are they? Why are they coming for me?
My breath comes in shallow gasps as panic flares. My body protests every movement, but I grit my teeth and try to pull myself up. The attempt is pathetic. My arms buckle, sending me crashing back to the ground.
Rough hands grab me, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. My head lolls to the side, my vision swimming, but even through the haze, I sense their menace.
"Careful," one of them mutters. "She might bite."
I want to snarl, to lash out, but my body betrays me. My limbs dangle uselessly as they carry me away. The world tilts, blurring into darkness, and the last thing I hear is my own shallow breathing fading into silence.
~◇~
When I wake, the first thing I notice is the rain.
It drums steadily against the roof above, the sound blending with the steady drip, drip, drip of water leaking into puddles on the floor. The air is damp and suffocating, the smell of mildew and decay clawing at my throat.
I blink, disoriented, the dim light revealing a room that feels like a half-remembered nightmare. Cracked walls streaked with grime, a sagging ceiling, the faint sound of distant voices.
Where am I?
My head throbs as I sit up, each movement slow and deliberate. My body feels small, fragile, and wrong. My hands shake as I press them to the floor, trying to steady myself. That's when I hear it—a whimper.
I freeze, my senses sharpening despite the fog in my mind. Slowly, I turn toward the sound.
In the corner, two figures huddle together. A small girl clings to an older one, her face buried in her chest. Their eyes dart toward me, wide and filled with terror.
Something stirs deep within me, a flicker of recognition.
This place. These faces.
It hits me like a blow to the chest. The memories come rushing back, sharp and brutal, flooding every corner of my mind. The kidnapping. The cold, unfeeling men. The endless nights of pain and fear.
This is where it all began.
I look down at my hands—small, delicate, childlike. My breath catches in my throat as the realization sinks in. I'm not just back here. I'm back then.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, raw and unsteady. I press a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle it, but it escapes in jagged bursts.
I've been given another chance.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I won't live like this again. I won't let them break me, not this time.
A low growl rumbles in my throat as my lips curl into a feral grin.
This time, I'll be the one breaking them.
~◇~
The door creaks open, and my head snaps toward it.
He walks in.
My stomach churns as his face comes into view. Memories crash into me like a tidal wave—the man who destroyed me, the man who broke me into pieces and reveled in my suffering.
I shrink back, clutching my knees to my chest. My hands tremble, my breathing quickens, and I make myself look as small and terrified as possible. It isn't hard; my body feels fragile, and my skin prickles with fear despite the rage bubbling beneath the surface.
He scans the room, his cold eyes moving from girl to girl, lingering on each of us. When his gaze lands on me, I force myself to meet it, wide-eyed and trembling, like a deer caught in headlights.
He smirks.
That smirk. The one I've seen so many times in my nightmares. It makes my stomach twist, my nails digging into my palms.
Die!
DIE!
DIE!
That's all I see, him dead. He's blood dripping everywhere, painted on the walls like a beautiful painting.
But as much as I want to rip him apart, I can't do anything yet. I'm too weak, too small, too vulnerable. I feel the sting of my powerlessness, but I shove it down.
There will be a time.
And when it comes, I'll savor every moment.
He steps closer, his boots echoing against the damp floor, and I instinctively recoil. My heart pounds, fear and hatred warring inside me, but before I can spiral too far, something strange happens.
He stops. His smirk fades, replaced by a look of confusion.
"What—" he starts, but the word cuts off as he stumbles. His hand flies to his chest, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He looks down, as if expecting to see something, but his legs give out beneath him, and he crumples to the floor.
The room erupts in screams.
The other girls scramble away, pressing themselves against the walls. I follow their lead, shrinking into the corner, my small frame shaking like a leaf. My wide eyes dart between him and the others, my heart racing—not from fear, but from exhilaration.
Inside, I'm celebrating.
I don't know what happened to him, but I don't care. Maybe someone poisoned him. Maybe karma finally caught up to him. Whatever it was, it wasn't me—how could it be? I'm just a helpless girl trapped in this nightmare.
A small smile threatens to creep onto my lips, but I bury my face in my knees, hiding it. I can't let anyone see the triumph in my eyes.
The door slams open, and more men rush in. They stop short at the sight of their comrade convulsing on the floor. One of them kneels beside him, trying to assess the situation.
"What's happening?" one of them barks.
The man checking him shakes his head, his expression grim. "I don't know. He's—he's gone."
Gone.
The word sends a shiver down my spine, but not from fear. It feels like justice, like the first crack in the foundation of the hell they've built for us.
The men argue among themselves, their voices a mix of anger and panic. They don't even glance at us girls, too focused on their fallen comrade. Finally, they lift his lifeless body and carry it out, the door slamming shut behind them.
The room falls silent, save for the muffled sobs of the other girls.
I stay curled in the corner, keeping up the act of a terrified child, but inside, I'm practically vibrating with excitement.
He's dead.
Whatever killed him, it saved me from enduring his cruelty again. I can't help but think of all the times I imagined his demise in my past life, how I fantasized about making him pay. To see him lifeless on the ground fills me with a dark, giddy satisfaction.
The other girls whisper to each other, their voices trembling.
"Do you think someone poisoned him?" one murmurs.
"Maybe he made someone angry," another replies, her voice shaking.
I nod along, feigning confusion and fear. "Maybe it was someone outside," I whisper, my voice quivering.
They don't notice the glint in my eyes, the way my mind is already racing. If one of them could fall so easily, the rest can too.
Suddenly, a crimson screen flickers into existence before me, faint and glowing in the dim light.
Welcome, Host.
This is the Deadly Rose System.
My breath catches, my heart pounding as I read the words. A slow, feral smile creeps onto my face, hidden behind my trembling hands.
My time has come.
They thought I was powerless, that I was prey.
They'll learn soon enough.