The tightness in my stomach relents, but only slightly. I’m being paranoid. Ever since the incident, things haven’t made sense the way they used to. My brain twists things, darkens the light, projects horrors onto daydreams.
My mind is my worst enemy. Irena is a friend.
She ushers me into the dining hall. I blink,momentarily blinded by sudden light. The room is awash with ochre light, walls and ceiling flickering brightly, illuminated by an immense fire in a brazier at the center of the room. And it’s hot. Unbelievably hot. Almost like a sauna, that claustrophobic thickness in the air, the way heat wraps its tendrils around your body and squeezes, unrelenting, slowly suffocating. Steam rises from my body, my rain-heavy clothes already beginning to dry.
‘Irena –’
But she pushes me forward, and before I can protest, dozens of hands reach for me and pull me in.
The room is full of sisters. The entire village, it seems, has gathered here, all dressed in white, their eyes shining with reflected flames. I realize the tables are gone; there is no food to be seen.
‘Wait,’ I say, struggling weakly, knowing I’m already overpowered. ‘Wait, wait …’
What do I want them to wait for? I have no idea what they’ll do; I can’t understand why they’re pulling me in among them, surrounding me, until I am ensconced on all sides by women in white.
Hot liquid rolls down my neck and spine. Whether it’s sweat or heated rainwater, I can’t tell. My hair is still drenched. My feet squelch in my ruined leather shoes. I’m too hot and too wet and my dress is clinging in uncomfortable places, and I can’t breathe, and I want out.
I want out.
‘Letgo.’ My voice is tight, betraying my fear. A rush of a memory comes to me, and I hear an all-too familiar voice in my head. I hear the jangle of a belt buckle. I hear men’s lazy laughter.
A coil of unwanted sensation unfurls within my chest, the memory of that day whetting me like a blade. I drive my teeth into my lower lip, pushing it away, the gnawing ache. I don’t want to let it out. They haven’t hurt me. Theywon’t.
The nearest sisters begin pulling at my clothes, unlacing, unbuttoning.
The incident was unplanned. An accident.
Bare knuckles slide against my nape as my dress is dragged open, removed, discarded. I am in my wet underdress, plastered to my skin.
It was a mistake. I couldn’t help it.
It’s not in my nature to fight back.
I smell blood. I smell death. When I speak, my words are too polite. ‘I want to go outside.’
But no one seems to hear me. A low chant catches my ears. The sisters’ voices tangle all around me, repeating the same unintelligible phrase over and over, words rising and falling like waves. It tickles my skin, pricking me with unseen thorns. My throat tightens and my eyes water, my lungs struggling to overcome a sudden pressure.
Stop, I want to say, but I can’t speak anymore. There’s nothing but the sisters and their endless chant, swallowing me whole.
They surge into me, firelit eyes gleaming, their fingers undressing me with practiced speed. The underdress falls to my ankles. In a second, they’re unhooking my underwear. Sliding them down my thighs. All my clothes, a wet pool at my feet. I’m naked, helpless in the firelight.
That’s when I finally lose it.
10
The scream that tears through me is sandpaper in my throat, painful and ragged, but bolstered with rage. It’s a roar. It’s a declaration of war. Whatever they’re going to do to me, whatever depraved ritual this is, they won’t have me easily.
Irefuseto give in.
I bolt for the door.
My explosion of energy and movement takes the sisters off guard, freezing them momentarily in shock. I elbow my way through the throng, clawing my way through what feels like an ocean of sisters until I slam against the door.
I grab at the handle, but my palms are slick with sweat. My vision blurs with tears, the hot drip of my still-wet hair.
‘Please,’ I beg, grasping at the handle even as they pull me back. ‘Please, don’t. Let me go.’
But they have me now. They’re lifting me bodily, carrying me toward the fire, their hands hot, my skin drenched in fear-thick sweat. I struggle weakly, but quickly realize there’s no point. Where would I go?
