When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Seventy - Vivian

SEVENTY

Vivian

As soon as the secret door to the hidden passageway clicks shut behind her, Catherine finds herself in pitch darkness, since her eyes can no longer register anything down the corridor, not without the other room’s borrowed light.

What am I doing? What have I done? She wonders, as panic now rises within her. She thinks of turning back towards the door and of commanding her fingers to reach out and find a way to open it again, but does not budge, since her mind insists on opening up a file of options instead. Her first alternative is indeed to turn, find a way to open the door from this side of it, and to then return to Tristan. Her second option is to extend her arms outwards and to slowly walk along the dark tunnel, sending one foot ahead of the other, on the lookout for dips. Her third is do nothing and therefore just die there, which sounds absurd, but, with darkness enveloping her, paralyzing her, and whispering terror to her -- as darkness is much skilled at doing -- that option seems momentarily realistic.

I can’t escape. It was just exciting, for a moment, to believe that I could. But I have to go back, be satisfied with tasting this small step that could never take me all the way.

The unexpected sound of a female voice breaking the silence of the passageway as it is raised to emphasize one word, however, makes Catherine re-evaluate her decision, and the situation. She did not make out the word, since her heart is drumming its rapid rhythm so loudly in her ears, but she most definitely heard a word.

 It’s female, so it has to be friendly, right?

Friendly like those non-refundables? Healer counters.

How could a non-refundable have ended up here?

How could a true?

It could be a woman who’s been here before, in this mansion, either during some other weekend event here, or maybe just to service the master of the house, which would indeed make the woman in the passageway a true or a non. Right. I see. But I myself just stumbled upon this passageway, and if I were back here for another weekend of all this so-called play, I’d remember it. So, maybe the television in the secret room got the woman’s attention the first time, like it did mine, and she’s just . . . daring? Her voice slips-up and adds more volume to certain words, so I wonder if she’s upset with herself and talking to herself, or if someone’s there with her. A master? Another woman? What’s going on?

Go back.

I have a mind, to make decisions with, and it would be nice to be able to use it again, because it’s use it or lose it, right? And I don’t want to lose my mind. I . . . I saw something, along the wall, to the right, before all the light was sucked out of the tunnel.

There are small flashlights there, on a rack. Convenient, in an emergency tunnel.