Chapter 5

The first day, she waited.

She stayed near the door longer than she meant to.

Not pacing. Not moving much at all. Just sitting there, knees pulled in slightly, head tilted toward the silence beyond it.

Listening.

They always came back.

That was the pattern.

That was the only thing she had.

So she waited.

At some point, she started counting again. Not time. Not steps. Breaths.

“In,” she whispered.

A pause.

“Out.” Again. “In.” Out.

Her voice sounded wrong in the room.

Too loud.

Too close.

She stopped

The silence rushed back in, heavier than before “Don’t,” she muttered to herself.

Her throat was already dry.

The word scraped on the way out. “Don’t start that.”

She swallowed.

Winced. “Just… wait.”

The second day, she didn’t mean to speak “They’re late.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

She blinked. Stared at the door.

“They’re late,” she repeated, quieter.

Her fingers curled into the mattress. “No,” she corrected quickly. “No, there’s no ‘late.’ You don’t know that.” Her voice cracked slightly.

She exhaled, shaking her head.

“Stop talking.”
A pause. “…just think it.”

She let out a weak breath.

“That’s better.”

It wasn’t.

The third day, the hunger settled in. It wasn’t sharp at first.

Just there.

A slow, constant pull inside her, tightening and twisting every time she shifted. She pressed her hand lightly against her stomach.

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “You’ve handled worse.”

A pause.

“…right?”

Her brow furrowed. The answer didn’t come. Her fingers tightened. “Doesn’t matter,” she repeated quickly.

Her stomach twisted harder.

“Shut up,” she muttered. She froze. Then let out a small breath.

“Not you,” she whispered.

Silence.

“…just—everything.”

The fourth day, she laughed. It slipped out of her without warning. A sharp, broken sound that echoed too loudly in the empty room.

Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes widened.
“Oh—” Her voice trembled. “That’s not funny.”
Another breath.

Unsteady.

“That’s not—”

Her voice broke.

Her chest tightened.

Her eyes burned.

“No,” she whispered. “No, don’t”

Too late.

The first tear slipped down her face. She sucked in a breath. “…seriously?” Another followed.

She laughed again, but it was uneven now, tangled with something else.

“This?” she whispered. “This is what gets you? Her shoulders shook. She pressed her hand harder over her mouth, trying to hold it in.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

The lie fell flat.”I’m fine,” she repeated. Her voice cracked completely.

“I’m—” A small, broken sound slipped out instead.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Stop,” she whispered.

But she couldn’t.

The room didn’t care. It stayed silent.

The fifth day,
She didn’t try to stop the talking anymore.

“Okay,” she murmured, staring blankly at the wall. “Okay. Think.”

Her voice dragged.

Slow.
“They want something.” A pause. “They always want something.”
She nodded slightly.

“So what is it?”

Silence.

“Control?” she guessed.

A small shake of her head.

“No. That’s too easy.”

Her lips pressed together.

“Reaction,” she said after a moment.

Her gaze shifted toward the door. “They want a reaction.”

A weak smile flickered.

“Well,” she whispered, “that’s working.” Her stomach twisted again. Hard. She curled inward slightly, pressing her arm against it.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Ignore it.”

It didn’t work.

“I hate this,” she muttered.

Her voice cracked

“I hate this.”

Louder this time.

The room swallowed it whole.

She laughed weakly.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Good talk.”

The sixth day—

The lock clicked.

Her body reacted instantly.

She sat up too fast, the chain snapping tight with a sharp metallic sound. Her breath caught. Relief hit her.

Sharp.

Immediate.

Her expression twisted.

“No,” she whispered, But it was already there.

The door opened.

Light spilled in.

Viv stood in the doorway. Elara just behind her. They didn’t move right away. They watched, And she knew, They saw everything.

The tear tracks.

The uneven breathing.

The way she’d moved too fast. Elara tilted her head slightly.

“Oh,” she said softly.

27 forced herself to still.

To slow her breathing.

To pull something, anything, back into control, But it didn’t come as easily anymore.

Viv stepped inside.

In her hand

Water.

Food.

27’s gaze dropped to it instantly. She couldn’t stop it. Elara noticed. Of course she did.

“There it is,” she murmured.

27 looked away.

Too late.
Viv stepped closer.

Set the glass and the plate down within reach “Eat,” she said.

No teasing.

No delay.

27 didn’t wait.

That was the worst part.

She moved immediately, the chain dragging as she dropped to her knees.

Her hand reached for the glass

Shaking now. She drank. Fast. Desperate.

Water spilled down her chin, her throat. She didn’t slow down. Didn’t care. Elara watched quietly.

Something in her expression had changed.

Less amused.

More… intent.

27 set the glass down with unsteady hands.

Reached for the food.

She ate too quickly.

Barely chewing.

Barely breathing between bites.

Her control—gone.

Viv watched everything. “Slow,” she said.
27 didn’t. She couldn’t.

Elara crouched slightly, closer now. “God,” she murmured softly, “you were doing so well.”

27 froze.

Food still in her hand.

Her breathing uneven.

Her chest rising too fast.

She realized.

Too late.

Elara smiled faintly. “You didn’t even hesitate,” she said.

A pause. “Not this time.”

27’s fingers tightened.

Viv stepped forward.

Her presence cut through the moment instantly.”You’re responding,” Viv said.

Not a question.

A statement.

27’s jaw clenched.

She forced herself to slow down.

To breathe.

To swallow properly.

To take control back.

But it felt… harder now.

“You needed it,” Viv continued.

A pause. “And you took it.”

Silence.

Elara tilted her head slightly. “Careful,” she murmured.

A small pause.

“You’re starting to look forward to us.”

That hit.

27 flinched.

Small.

But real.

Her fingers stilled.

Her breathing caught.

Viv saw it.

Of course she did.

She stepped back.

“Finish your food,” she said

Then turned toward the door.

Elara lingered.

Watching.

Studying.

“You cried,” she said softly. 27 stilled. Her throat tightened. Elara smiled. “Don’t worry,” she added lightly.

A pause.

“I liked it. I can’t wait to lick them off your face once day.”

Something in 27’s expression shifted.

Then Elara straightened.

“See you soon,” she said.

The door shut. The lock clicked. Silence returned, but it wasn’t the same.

Because now, Her body felt heavier. Her mind quieter, and something worse had settled in.

She looked at the empty glass.

The plate.

Her hands still slightly shaking.

Her jaw tightened.

Because this time..

She hadn’t just reacted. She had needed it,
and they knew.