Numb
Hannah
I was led through winding alleys. The reptilian in front of me held onto the rope, guiding me like a dog on a leash.
Staring at my once again bound wrists, my mind had gone completely blank. I didn’t notice the lively surroundings, didn’t notice the passersby. Didn’t hear any merchants advertising their goods. Didn’t notice the strange scents wafting from nearby restaurants.
I kept staring at my hands. There was already a thin red line where the rope dug into my skin.
Not thinking. Not feeling. Only putting one foot in front of the other.
After countless sets of stairs, the area slowly fell quiet. Crowded buildings gave way to nature, a narrow stone path leading toward a structure made entirely of dark, polished stone. We passed its massive iron front door. Instead, the reptilian knocked on a small, inconspicuous side entrance.
I didn’t look up when it opened. What did it matter?
“Got your goods!” the reptilian shouted.
He yanked me forward, pulled a knife from his back pocket, cut the rope, and shoved me inside. I collided with whoever stood in the doorway.
I finally looked up.
An Orc woman stared down at me, her expression grim. Her face was wrinkled, her bright blue eyes cold. White hair was tightly pulled back.
“Follow,” was the only thing she said before turning away.
I obeyed.
I followed her through corridors made of the same dark, polished stone. Candlelight flickered along the walls, reflected in a way that made them almost seem alive. Smaller iron doors lined each side of the corridor. The air was damp, thick with humidity.
We descended another flight of stairs, and soon stone gave way to old wooden floors. Splinters threatened my bare feet. I was too exhausted to care. Whatever happened to me would happen.
Inside a small room lined with shelves and boxes, she stopped. “Take your clothes off.”
I let my shift fall to the floor.
From one of the boxes she handed me loose grey pants that reached my knees, followed by a shapeless shirt in the same dull colour. She twisted my hair into a painfully tight knot at the base of my neck.
“This is the Thermonion,” she said while working on my hair. “A bathhouse for locals, tourists, merchants, and travelers. You have been bought. You will work. Your job is to clean. You will not serve the guests. You will not talk to the guests. If a guest passes by you will bow.”
The instructions came fast, like gunfire.
“You will do as you are told. Wrongdoings will be punished.” She tightened the knot.
This was my punishment, I thought.
I didn’t response. She didn’t wait for one.
“Follow.”
We walked through another hallway that opened into a vast hall dominated by a large pool in the middle.
Orcs bathed alongside other species—some reptilian like the one who brought me here, others completely foreign.
Spindly blue creatures with long limbs or shapeless boneless beings that reminded me of slugs.
Are we still on the same planet? The flight hadn’t seemed that long.
Steam rose from the water, hazing the room. I lowered my gaze to the floor.
“This is the main hall,” she said. “Guests swim here, stretch their limbs after long travels. A natural hot spring feeds it.”
We exited into another hallway lined with iron doors.
“Behind these are private baths. Our most popular option. Each bath must be cleaned after every guest. This will be your task.”
After brief instruction I was given cleaning utensils and left alone. The room held a single bath and stone benches carved into the walls. A small fire pit sat at the far end.
Unwilling to be consumed by thought or feeling, I went to work.
I drained the bath. Once empty, I stepped inside. It was nearly as deep as I was tall. Careful not to slip on the slick surface, I began scrubbing. Removing every trace of the previous guest.
The Orc woman returned from time to time, watching with a stern expression. Scolding me for stains that weren’t there. I said nothing. I scrubbed where she told me.
I worked myself into a trance. Pushed everything aside. Made my mind a blank slate. Thinking would do nothing.
The sharp, acidic smell of the cleaning soap burned my eyes. When the room was deemed clean enough, the bath was refilled. The water shimmered in iridescent greens and blues, its heavy sulfuric scent burning my nostrils.
I was sent to clean another room. And then another.
I scrubbed and scrubbed. My skin burned. My hands were raw. I kept going. The humidity made my body sticky, my clothes clinging to me.
“You will address me as Mistress,” the Orc woman said once I finished the last bath.
I followed her back into the older wooden part of the bathhouse. It was run down. Poorly kept. Shabby. Enough for people like me.
Dinner was a tasteless greyish gruel. I ate in silence beside others dressed like me. No one spoke. That was fine.
After the bathhouse closed, we were ordered to clean the corridors and main hall. Three others and I scrubbed the corridors while the remaining workers drained and cleaned the pool. We worked in silence.
Our sleeping chamber was small. Cobwebs clung to the walls, dust everywhere. My bed was a thin, worn mattress on the floor, stained and torn, its insides spilling out. We were packed together, mattress to mattress.
I barely noticed.
I pulled a scratchy dark-brown blanket over myself and closed my eyes. The bedding smelled old and musty. No one said good night. The candle was extinguished. Silence fell, heavy and complete.
Only then—motionless in the dark—did thoughts begin to creep back in.
What had happened.
What was.
What could have been.
Him.
I pushed it all down. Put a lid on it.
Numbness spread through me. I wanted it that way.
Seal it.
Don’t think.
Forget.
I closed my eyes and let exhaustion pull me into a dreamless sleep.