"WHERE AM I?"
I woke with a gasp.
My mouth tasted of copper.
As if someone had shoved rusty coins down my throat.
Another taste, bitter this time, rose in waves.
I sat up sharply, and the headache wasn't a pulse—it was a hammer strike behind my eyes.
I rubbed my temples.
When I looked around, I frowned.
Disoriented.
"Where am I?"
It wasn't the office.
I was… in a bedroom.
A huge bed.
Golden canopy, silk sheets.
I slid my fingers over them, feeling their texture.
They were cold, as if my body had never been between them.
I shivered involuntarily.
The air smelled of expensive incense and fresh paint. That chemical scent that hides something rotten underneath.
I got up.
I was wearing a blue lace robe.
It wasn't mine.
But it smelled like me.
And it fit me too perfectly.
I looked ahead.
There was an open wardrobe.
Dresses hung on hangers.
All my size, all my style. Shoes lined up like soldiers. Cosmetics on the dresser: my favorite lipstick brand, my favorite eyeshadow…
And…
A pill bottle with my name on it.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I walked to the window and yanked it open.
Still confused.
Outside, the morning was gray and damp, like an unpainted canvas.
It rained in intervals.
Mist curled around the garden bushes like claws.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to remember.
I dug through my thick mind.
The last thing I remembered was Hugo leaning over me, whispering something. Then… darkness.
But there was something I was missing.
And that bothered me.
Because it scraped at my memory like a sharp, dirty fingernail.
I scanned the room slowly.
Ivory-painted walls, a huge mirror, a crystal lamp that cast no shadow.
I shuddered.
I remembered the room I found that night.
The monster.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
"Shit."
I didn't understand how I had gotten here.
It could only have been him.
I bit my lip at the thought of his hands undressing me.
My breathing thickened.
I had to figure out how it happened.
I pulled my hand away.
That's when I noticed the bandage on my cut.
And I smiled, not quite sure why.
"I need a shower," I told myself out loud, as if saying it could chase away the silence.
In the bathroom, an oval tub waited for me, filled halfway.
The water had no bubbles.
But steam rose in spirals, as if someone had just stepped out of it.
I undressed without thinking.
Slowly.
"Hugo?" I called, but my voice dissolved into an echo.
I closed my eyes and sank in.
The heat relaxed my muscles, but the lavender scent mixed with something metallic.
As if the water had…
I shook my head and surfaced.
I could get used to this, I thought, resting my head against the edge.
But then I imagined his hands on me, undressing me… and the pleasure twisted into nausea.
I didn't know why.
If he was everything I wanted.
A little later, the unease faded.
I convinced myself he was only taking care of me.
THE VOICE.
I slipped on the dark blue velvet dress from the wardrobe.
It hugged my curves like a custom glove.
The neckline was too precise, as if it had been sewn straight onto my skin.
I combed my hair and put on makeup.
Using the new red lipstick that tasted like strawberries and sin.
My confidence returned. Or so I wanted to believe.
I had to see Hugo, so I walked to his bedroom.
I knocked. No answer.
It was locked.
I bit my lip, annoyed.
But I didn't let it discourage me.
I went down to the kitchen on the ground floor.
Before I even reached it, the smell of coffee and freshly baked croissants made my stomach growl.
I hurried.
It could only be him.
But the emptiness of the room hit me the moment I stepped inside.
My eyes went straight to a plated meal and a steaming cup of coffee on the table.
Breakfast.
"Hugo?" I called, but my voice drowned in the silence.
I looked at the plate and cup again.
I hesitated, but assumed it was for me.
And I devoured it.
Without sitting down.
Then I went for more coffee.
When a noise behind me made me spin around.
Everything was still silent.
An almost obscene silence.
No trace of life.
"Is someone there? Hugo?" I raised my voice. "Hugo?"
Nothing.
I drank more coffee, thoughtful.
This mansion was always desolate.
But that morning there was something different.
I had never been here during the day.
I hadn't thought it could be even more unsettling.
After washing the cup and plate with maddening calm, I thought about my purse.
It should still be in the office.
"Damn."
I needed my phone.
To call the office and make an excuse.
And Hugo too.
My eyes landed on an old wall clock.
It read 11:47.
My eyes widened.
Was that the time?
How could I have slept so long?
I wiped my forehead. The headache was still there.
I had painkillers in my purse.
So I headed toward the place where it all began.
As I walked down the corridors, I could feel something.
A presence… or…
Someone watching.
Lurking.
"Strange."
Finally I arrived.
A shadow slid behind me.
"Hugo?…" No answer. Everything too still. "What the fuck?" I muttered.
I had never been easily spooked in my life.
But something wasn't right.
I was supposed to be the one in control.
So I took a deep breath.
The moment I turned the doorknob to enter, a sudden memory hit me.
My hand froze.
There had been someone.
Last night.
I was drunk.
Lying on the sofa.
Hugo talking…
And…
"What are you doing?"
That voice sounded behind me.
The voice.
The one that had said a phrase last night that I couldn't place.
I didn't turn around.
"Come on, tell me what you're doing and turn around already."
I let go of the doorknob.
Sweat chilled my skin.
I clenched my jaw.
"Turn around. Now," the voice insisted.
I swallowed.
But not from fear.
It was curiosity.
And a small, steady fury.
I turned.
And I couldn't believe what I saw.