The Thorned Rose

11

I was in a hospital gown when I woke up, in a hospital bed, but not in a hospital room. The room was stunning, it had oak floors, a gorgeous wardrobe and chest of drawers, beautifully ornate curtains and pictures dotted the walls, and there was a huge brick fireplace in the middle with a mirror next to it. The sun was just setting in a warm, orange sunset, and I could hear the birds chirping and the sound of the water features in the garden, as the window was open, which also let in a slight breeze. I slowly got out of bed and went to the mirror, to see the damage that had been done. What first drew my attention was the bright green cast on my right arm. All over my body were half-faded bruises and cuts that were in the later stages of healing. I had a number of bandages all over me covering stitched up cuts, but they looked almost healed, like the stitches could come out in a day or two. My face wasn't even that bad. Previously it had been swollen beyond recognisability, but the swelling had gone, and all I was left with was some discolouration from the bruises and a couple of cuts halfway in-between being a cut and a scar. I must have been in some kind of coma for at least a week, based on the amount the cuts had healed.

I walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, wanting to get out of the hospital gown as soon as I could. I found some grey joggers, a white t-shirt and a blue hoodie. My phone, computer, weapons, or anything I had bought with me, wasn't anywhere in the room, so I needed to go look around the house. If I am still in Fabricio's house, they would probably be in his office, and I knew exactly where that was from the blueprints I once had. The door wasn't locked, so I opened it with ease. I walked through the hallways, up some stairs, until I finally found the door to his office. I wondered whether or not I should knock, but fuck it, I don't care, and I opened the door. There was Fabricio and some men I did not recognise all sat around his fireplace, above it the TV where I used to send messages to on my laptop. They all got up and looked at me, some with confusion, some with anger, Fabricio with a facial expression that I didn't know.

"Hello Phoebe," said Fabricio. Wow, I have been out cold for nearly a week, and they still haven't found out my real name.

"Where is my stuff?" I asked.

"Very demanding," he laughed, "come, sit." He gestured to one of the spare seats on one of the sofas.

"I'm okay standing. Can I have my stuff please?"

"We are in a meeting, just about to watch a little film. One of you and Vivaldo, would you like to stay and watch?" The words he said sounded evil, but his voice was genuinely asking, maybe concerned if I wanted to leave, in case it would be too much.

"Me getting tortured? My favourite type of film," I smiled, and sat down. All of the men watched me, and then watched the screen, playing back every punch, every kick, every cut. There were three things that stood out to me: I looked fit when I was being beaten up, I took every punch gracefully, as though it was a kindness, and I didn't flinch once, except a tiny one when they broke my wrist. I think the people watching also thought the same. Then then watched the CCTV footage of me when I killed Giovanni, again, I think they must have already seen this footage though. Once it was over, they all stared at me with intrigue in their eyes.

"The Thorned Rose..." one of them said. The man sat next to me grabbed my hand, complete adoration painted on his face and told me I was hand-made by the devil himself, but he said it in an adoring way. These men were odd.

"Fun film, but can I have my stuff now, I want to go home." They all watched me in silence as I got up, headed over to Fabricio's desk, checked the top right-hand drawer (a very obvious place to put important things, because it is the first one you go to usually) and grab my laptop, phone and purse. There were hundreds of missed calls, mostly from Nadia, many from my father or mother.