Classified || 2 || ✔️ mature

23 | Holland

I try to open my eyes but it's hard, and even when I squint only darkness stares back at me, my mouth feeling dry as I try to speak.

Noise comes to me in disjointed bits, filling my head with nothing and everything after living in such a silent cage.

Shifting on the bed, I try to reach out but something stops me, the sound of metal clanging against metal bouncing against the four walls of my mind and I stop, curling my hands into fists.

A palms rest on my upper arm and I flinch, turning my head to where I believe the person is, feeling as they prod the area below my elbow, pushing at the tender skin before I feel the prick of the needle.

For a second nothing happens before I open my mouth to scream but no sound exits, the feel of the wounds on my back on fire,like someone was dragging a knife through my flesh over and over and over again. The echo of the pain to real to be anything but.

Within another slip of the needle in my flesh, it stops and once again I hear the murmur of a voice but this time I can pick out the difference.

Three people.

They whisper between each other, the sound of a pen on paper before I hear their footsteps fade away, the swing of my door opening and closing and I relax.

Too soon, I hear his voice and  I tense all over again.

"Hello, Doll." Dimitri's voice causes an ache to begin in my head, flashes of memory shifting through my mind. I hear him stop at the end of my bed, the mattress dipping as he takes a seat.

But still, I can't see anything, relying on my ears to warn me of anything.

I shiver as I feel a pair of hands slide down my arm, his touch unwanted. He speaks in a low voice, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "It's been awhile, Holland." he says, like we're friends catching up, his voice filled with a disturbing sense of pleasure.

Not long enough, I want to tell the words.

He chuckles as if he can hear the words, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. "Don't worry, Holland, I'm not here for you."

I try to speak again but still nothing happens, frustration eating away at me.

His hands resume their explorations, skimming along my arms before they get to my wrists and he hums low under his breath. "You'd be the perfect doll." He whispers, his hands lifting before I feel them on my face, "Almost perfect, I'd just change a few things."

I try to pull away from him, but I'm trapped. He continues sweep his hands over my features before finding my hair and I feel him grab a piece, as if he's inspecting it. "Have you ever been a brunette?" He asks seriously, like he's expecting answer. "If thing don't work out, I might try it. Then you would look just like her." He talks as if I'm not even in the room anymore, his voice wistful.

I can feel as he lays a hand against my forehead, smoothing it down my hair in an almost calming gesture but my heart is pounding like a drumbeat in my chest.

"But don't worry, I've found my perfect doll again." He continues smoothing his hand over my head while he speaks almost reverently about this woman, and I hope for her sake, she has the chance to run.

"She is perfect and I lost her for a bit, but now I have her again. I just have to wait."

He stands up, the matters lifting under the disappearance of his weight and I feel him undo one of my binds as he says his last words, "I'll introduce you to her when she's back in my possession."

I don't move as I listen to him leave, the hiss of the door and then blissful silence.

Sitting up, I rip the blindfold off, my eyes instantly finding Archer on the other side of the wall c watching me with a desperate anger that dispenses as soon as I look at him and Clay, pacing on the other side like a caged animal, his gaze on the hallways Dimitri just entered.