A Little Out There

Chapter 33

Chapter 33 (Keeley POV)

“Put this on.” I had a white dress shoved in my face by one of the daemons.

“What if I refuse?” I asked snarkily. That earned me a backhand across the face. I knew it was coming that was how things worked around here. I’d been here a week and now adorn triple the bruises and cut. I know Wes would come. He had to, unless he did something stupid.

“Oh Wes, you’ve gotta stay strong, for me” I whispered.

“What?” the daemon growled.

“Nothing” I replied. Another slap connected with my face.

“Stay in your place doppelganger” he growled. “Put the dress on, your prep team will be here shortly.”

“Prep team?” I asked.

“Of course, we aren’t complete savages. We’re going to make you look pretty before we spill your blood.” I shuddered at the harsh words.

“Spill my blood?”

 “No one told you about the ritual?” he said with a harsh laugh.

“That’s rich.”

“What is the ritual?” I asked weakly. I figured it would be painful but I did cling to a small hope that I’d live through it.

“Well, we dress the doppelgangers in white, and then we’ll spill all your blood, and then the others too. Then we mix it together and drink it to return to gods” he said simply, as if he wasn’t talking about ending my life.

“Why all of it?” I asked.

“Because my dear, there at a lot of daemons” he smirked before leaving the room.

We’d been transported in the night and now in an actual mansion. But I wasn’t focusing on the fine detail of the house, but rather my now very near death. Tears spilled down my face. I was going to die without seeing Wes one more time. Wes, the man I loved. I remembered the look on his face when I almost left, I can't imagine what it’ll look like when I’m dead. Will he be able to move on, or would he tune out again like with Kiara, or worse. No, I couldn’t think about that. Wes would be fine. I would die. I slowly began to accept it as I slipped into the white dress. Suddenly the door burst open and two female daemons entered.

 “Are you done crying? Cause we only want to work once” the taller one said. They could’ve been twins, same dark, matted hair, black soulless eyes, and pale skin.

“Yes” I replied evenly.

“Good. Take a shower, the bathroom is right over there” the taller one nodded to a door on her right. This was the last shower I’d ever take. I cleared my mind of all thoughts as the lukewarm water pounded onto my damaged skin. I took my time washing my body, it wouldn’t be mine much longer and I wanted to cherish it. I washed my hair tenderly; I wanted to be myself when I died, with a fishtail braid on my right side.  I stepped back into the room, and one daemon went immediately for my hair.

“No, if you’re going to kill me, at least let my hair be” I snapped. She nodded and I was shoved into a chair. My face was attacked by brushes, curlers, pencils, tubes of lip gloss and god knows what else. They obviously felt no need to be gentle with me either, practically stabbing my eyes with mascara and pounding foundation in my pores.

“Your skin is horrible” the taller daemon complained. I said nothing in return, just tried not to grimace. Finally after what seemed just short of forever, the taller daemon commanded that I look in the mirror. When I saw my reflection I gasped, as horrible as those two were, damn they knew how to do make-up. My green eyes were surrounded by a tan-brown shadow and they were lined with a distinctive gold/ my fishtail was intact, but a few loose waves hung out next to my seemingly flawless skin. Well, at least when Wes finds my body I’ll be pretty.