Chapter 7
When I came to, it felt as if the world was breathing. As if a thousand small sighs were whispering at me from every direction.
My shoulder burned, and for half a second, I thought I was still on the table. But the dusty scent in the air told me otherwise. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Was this their next act, or was the nightmare over? And did I want it to be over?
I should probably be scared—most people in my situation would be—but I wasn’t.
I was waiting for it to be over. Or for my suffering to be enough, if it ever would be.
Maybe I was waiting for my sister to come back and exact her revenge?
I didn’t know what. I only knew that for some reason, I was still here, and she wasn’t.
Death didn’t mean anything to me because I was already in hell. And apparently, there was a ringmaster and a mime here with me.
I wasn’t naked anymore. I could feel clothes on my skin.
It felt like a dress, maybe, and I was lying on something cold and smooth, like a tile floor.
But it was the sound that sent a shiver up my spine, or lack thereof.
It was quiet. So quiet that the air pulsed through my ears.
And that was terrifying, not because of my situation, but because of who was there with me.
I could feel them watching.
Something wasn’t right with Flynn and Felix.
They were clearly crazy, but there was something else.
Something is missing in that sparkle in their eyes.
Almost like they lacked humanity. Maybe they were avenging angels?
Maybe they were demons? And maybe they were something else. Whatever they were, it wasn’t human.
I was tempted to lie there and feign sleep—that seemed like the safer choice—but not being able to see anything only made things worse.
The ache in my shoulder crawled over my entire body while the smell of blood filled my nostrils, and the silence became a deafening whoosh sound until I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling open.
The first thing I saw was the black-and-white checkered pattern on the floor. When I pushed myself up, I saw the mirrors. Walls and walls of them. They stretched high into the darkness, multiplying my reflection into a dozen pale ghosts. And that wasn’t the strangest thing.
The girl staring back at me from those mirrors wasn’t me.
It was a doll-like version of me.
My skin was a chalky, powdered white, and a rosy circle hid the tan normally on my cheeks.
I frowned at the perfect crimson bow painted in the middle of my lips while rolling my eyes over the auburn braids someone had tied off with bright red ribbons.
The frilly white dress I was wearing wasn’t too uncomfortable, especially since the puffy sleeves hung off my shoulder and away from my fresh wound. But I could’ve done without the white thigh-high stockings with delicate red bows, and black Mary-Jane shoes.
What the fuck?
I cocked a brow at the blood staining my collarbone.
Why on earth would anyone dress me up like this? Why would they dress anyone up like this? Not sure that I wanted to know the answer to that. I looked like a living porcelain doll.
Okay, now I was scared.
A groan drew my attention to a figure on the floor beside me.
Austin was also no longer naked, at least not from the waist down.
He looked like he’d been run over, beaten with a bat, and tossed to the side.
Besides, for the many, many bruises covering him, there was an angry cut across his chest. His wrists were raw from the restraints, and a trickle of dried blood crawled out of the corner of his mouth.
Horror movie victims didn’t have shit on him.
I was about to ask Austin if he was okay when he sat up and cocked a brow at my dress. “What the hell did they do to you?”
“Apparently, we’re now in the land of mirrors, and I’m the resident doll.”
What kind of answer did he expect? I didn’t know what those two psychos had planned. I didn’t want to know. But I would like to know where my underwear went. This dress was not very long.
“Right…” he paused to look around at the mirrored walls. “This ah… doesn’t look good.”
Did any of this look good? That wasn’t what bothered me. Austin’s demeanor was… calm, which was an odd reaction, to say the least.
“I’m sorry about your wife.” Although I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, I gave him a quick scan and added, “She didn’t deserve that.”
“No one deserves this.”
“Some people might.”
Austin turned and looked at me. “Do you deserve it?”
Yes. “Do you?” I asked back.
He didn’t respond. He just stared at me for a second before saying, “We should try and find a way out of here before they come back.”
“There’s nowhere to go.”
Austin’s brow rose. “Do you always give up this easily?”
What did I have to fight for?
“You know they’re going to fuck you, right?”
I figured. Our fucked-up feast tipped me off to that.
“That explains the costume change,” I muttered while tugging at the skirt of my dress.
“Really?” Austin said. “That’s all you have to say?”
What else was there to say? No? Stop? Let me go? Even if I wanted to fight, I highly doubted it would do any good.
“You act like a victim.” Austin got up and walked over to the left wall, where he began feeling along the seam of a mirror. “But you don’t smell like one.”
That was a weird thing to say. “What do you mean, I don’t smell like a victim?”
“Victims smell naive,” he said while moving to the next mirrored pane. “Like hope and sunshine wrapped in desperation.”
There was something about the way he said that which made me second-guess how safe I was around him. “How do you know this?”
“I’ve met a few victims in my life.” He paused what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at me. “You move like prey, but you smell like the aftermath.”
“And what do you smell like, Austin?” I stood up and took a step back. “You don’t seem very upset about your wife’s death.”
He stopped and turned around to face me. “You met her. Did you like her?”
“She was still your wife.” He should feel something.
“Look—”
A slow clap echoed down the corridor, cutting him off.
Austin and I turned as Felix stepped into view.
His ringmaster’s coat and top hat were gone.
Now he was in nothing but a pair of black pants.
He might be a monster, but he looked like a god.
Sconce light stretched across the lean muscles on his broad chest, highlighting a few silvery scars.
Dark hair curled at his temples, making the grin on his mouth sharpen with cruelty.
It was wrong how I soaked up the sight of him, but I couldn’t stop looking, even when he bowed and spread his arms wide.
“Welcome to Act Three.”
Act three? Did that mean there would be an Act Four? “Why did you dress me up like this?”
“Every maze needs a prize worth chasing. And you, Poppet…” His grin spread. “Will make an divine prize.”
Maze? That was when I noticed the corners and turns where the mirrors met. It was hard to make out at first, but they were there.
As if on cue, Flynn then emerged like a shadow peeling from the glass surrounding us.
His bare torso gleamed with a sheen of sweat.
Without the gloves or striped shirt, the mime looked less like a caricature and more like a statue brought to life.
A perfectly cut torso that was horrifyingly still while his painted-on grin smirked back at me.
“Perfect, isn’t she?” Felix said to Flynn. “Our little doll. So fragile. So tempting.”
Flynn’s piercing eyes dragged over me in a way that felt like both a threat and possession.
His silence carried a weight that was heavier than Felix’s words.
I should’ve been scared, and I was. But the flex of Flynn’s jaw as he bit down on some unspoken hunger made my skin prickle with heat.
I was suddenly very aware of how little this dress covered.
I looked over at Austin, who arched a brow, as if saying, now what?
Felix’s voice dropped lower. “Run, little doll.”
“Why should I?” There was nowhere to go. I couldn’t win a rigged game.
“So quick to give up.” Felix tsked. “Very well. If you won’t run for you, perhaps you will run for him.”
His stare snapped over to Austin.
The insinuation was clear. If I didn’t do what they said, Austin would pay the price. And still, I couldn’t make myself move.
“Tick tock, Poppet.” Felix sang. “Midnight approaches.”
Why midnight? What happened then? Did I only have hours to live?
Austin staggered over and grabbed my wrist. “Come on, Mazie.” He pulled me down the corridor. “We need to move.”
Felix’s laughter rolled after us. “Act Three begins. Let’s see if the doll can survive her own reflection.”
The maze stretched forward and split into endless images.
A thousand Mazie’s decorated in ribbons and lace stared back at me as a thousand Austins frantically tried to pull her to safety.
The air was claustrophobic and thick with dust and candle wax, while our footsteps bounced up from the checkered floor. It was endless hallways of shiny glass.
“Stay with me,” Austin ordered. “Don’t let go no matter what.”
We stumbled down a corridor to the left, then turned right when it split into three. Our reflections staggered in every direction. Some running, some walking, and some who did nothing but smile back as we ran past.
And some…
My stomach dropped at the bright stare on the figure in the background. It had been three years since I saw those eyes.
No, it couldn’t be her. I was imagining things.
I ignored it and continued running through the maze with Austin, except that figure got closer with every turn we took until she was right there. So close that I could see the water dripping off her pigtails.
At first, I thought it was someone pretending to be her. It had to be, right?
But it wasn’t. I could smell the chlorine and see the green flecks in her hazel eyes. She was here. She was really here.