Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Emilia
Make it stop!” I scream, voice barely human.
My hands shake as I press them over my ears, burying my stinging, bloody face into my knees. A guttural sob slips through my lips. The noise is relentless—a mechanical, droning hum that keeps growing and growing, vibrating through my skull until my teeth ache.
It’s fucking inside me. It’s in my bones.
I don’t know how long it’s been… seconds, minutes, hours.
The darkness consumes all sense of time.
My body trembles uncontrollably, pressed against the cold, hard floor, the scent of something rotten saturating my senses.
The darkness is so intense that I can’t even tell if my eyes are open anymore.
Sometimes I try to blink, seeing vague flashes… but I think it’s all in my head.
My throat is raw from screaming, and my cheek throbs from the earlier beating.
Then, without warning, the noise cuts out.
A shuddering gasp leaves me. The sudden silence is almost worse, deafening in its stillness.
I stay frozen, hands still clamped over my ears, terrified it’s another trick.
They’ve done it before. Waited until I started to calm down, until I dared to believe it was over, then turned it back on, louder and longer.
Elissa fucking Germain can go to fucking hell.
My pulse thunders against my palms. Every sound—the drip of water, the footsteps beyond The Cell, my breath—is amplified, unnecessarily loud.
I don’t move. I can’t. I refuse to trust the peace in this place.
A sudden clattering makes me jump. I flinch so hard my head cracks against the wall.
A sliver of light slices through the dark, and I shoot upright as the doorway illuminates. I gasp again, my whole body vibrating with aches, cuts stinging.
A figure falls inside, and not a single second later, the door slams, throwing both of us into the pitch-black abyss.
“Hello?” I whisper hesitantly, so thin that I barely make a sound. I wait, straining to hear something that isn’t my own breathing or the incessant drip of water.
Nothing.
“Hello?” I try again, louder this time, voice trembling. I’m not convinced that this isn’t another one of their tricks, but I have nothing to lose. I’ll take my chances if there’s the smallest possibility of having company through this hell.
“Hello,” a female voice calls back, cautious but real. “Where are you?”
My chest tightens. “I’m... I’m over here,” I manage.
I hear shuffling as they move across the floor. Blood roars in my ears.
“Emilia?” The voice is higher now, familiar in a way that makes my stomach twist. “Emilia Burton?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “How do you know me? Who are you?”
Something brushes my arm, and I flinch hard, instinctively pulling back. Warm fingers find mine, shaky but sure, and I grab on before I can think better of it. The body slides close to mine, and we cling to each other—strangers, sure, but not alone.
“We went to school together,” she says softly, voice trembling. “Kayla Downing.”
“Kayla?” I breathe out.
All of a sudden, her voice clicks in my head. Of all the people it could be—Kayla. Two long forgotten enemies, complete opposites who used to fight for most popular. It was pathetic.
“Why are you in here?”
“I broke one of the rules,” she says quietly. “I went to pick up my rations without Jace.”
“Jace?”
“My husband,” she says.
She can’t see, but my brow lifts. “Jace Thomson?”
“Yeah.”
“Rayden’s roommate?”
She hesitates this time. “Yes.”
I frown into the darkness as her crime sinks in. “You aren’t allowed to collect rations without one another?” I ask quietly.
She stiffens beside me. “Didn’t you read the laws? The rules?” I grimace.
Fantastic. The fucking rules.
“That’s why I’m in here,” is all I say. Despite everything, a faint laugh escapes me—half-snort, half-sob. “What are they?”
“A booklet came in the envelope,” she explains. “Jace got the rules; I got the… marriage certificate.”
“Me too,” I say. “My delightful husband decided to throw his envelope away without checking the contents,” I say, bitterness coating the words. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me.
“No way,” Kayla breathes out. “So you haven’t even seen them?”
“No.”
“Oh, Emilia,” she murmurs, hands coiling tighter around my arm.
“Only twenty-four hours in here as penance,” I say. Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I blink, forcing them away.
“Hell,” she mutters. “I’m in for eight.”
“Can you tell me about the rules?” I ask quietly, letting my spine rest against the cold wall.
The rough stone bites into my spine, but it’s better than the other side where metal spikes jut out, sharp and deadly.
Kayla shifts beside me, voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’ll tell you what I remember.”
A shiver runs through me. I stare into the black void as Kayla begins.
“They’re just Germain’s way of keeping us in line,” she says quietly.
“The laws are the most important ones to remember. Number one, more important than anything else, is that whilst married, you must remain faithful to one another. Infidelity at any level will be punished in a manner befitting the crime,” Kayla says.
Immediately, my head falls to my chest. I can one hundred percent, without a doubt, confirm that I’ve already broken that one, and a large part of me believes Zac probably has, too.
“Great,” I murmur.
“Spouses must share the same address. If you’re caught sleeping somewhere else, or not inhabiting your given home, they call it suspected separation.”
My stomach turns.
Suspected separation. The phrase sounds harmless, but it reeks of a threat.
“Any argument that disturbs the neighbours, or any complaint that’s filed, goes straight to Court. They decide whether the couple needs re-education on State ideals.” She pauses. “And, if one partner goes missing, the other is automatically considered complicit until proven otherwise.”
For a while, neither of us speak. The silence is heavier than before, pressing against my chest. I’m trapped, stifled by illusions of marriages that aren’t even ours to begin with.
“The rules are a little less strict. But still punishable, so how they’re different from laws is beyond me,” Kayla says softly.
“At least one baby must be born within three years. If you haven’t conceived after two years, you must report to the State health facility so they can run tests.
” She takes a breath. “Homes must be maintained to a tidy, clean standard, and they will carry out inspections. Rations must be collected together. Every day off will be the same for both spouses. There will be a monthly city meeting for the Married Sector. Attendance is compulsory. You are equally responsible for everything your partner does,” she reels off.
I nearly smirk at that one; I’m certainly paying for what Zac’s done so far.
“There are more, but I forget,” she murmurs. Her head drops, hair tickling my shoulder. I sigh, resting my head against the cold stone behind me. It’s wet and smelly, but I don’t care.
“That’s okay,” I reply softly. “Thanks.”
“Sounds like your husband’s a dick.”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Yours?”
“He’s… good in bed,” she admits. Despite everything, I almost laugh; I’m glad one of us is having fun these days.
“That’s why I went to the shop without him.
” Her voice wobbles. “Thought he deserved a lie in after our… strenuous activity last night.” I don’t know what to say to that.
My throat’s raw and my tongue heavy, weighed down by all the hope I can’t offer.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” I whisper, but I think we both know I’m lying.
A sudden squeak from the far corner cuts through the stillness, sharp and shrill. My stomach drops.
“What’s that?” Kayla exclaims, hand clamping tighter than a vice around mine.
“The rats,” I reply bluntly.
“Rats?” she squeals.
“Yeah,” I murmur, closing my eyes, trying to slow my breathing as I rest my head against the wall. She doesn’t even want to know what comes afterwards. The squeaking grows louder, joined by the faint scurry of claws. The air feels damper now, and I shiver as it soaks into my bones.
Kayla whimpers beside me, and I squeeze her hand. I know what’s coming. The noise. The scratching. The disgusting probing.
So, I breathe in. As calm as I can muster.
And when they surround us, we curl up together, as small as possible. Kayla’s sob tears through the dark.