Release In The Dark (DARK erotic romance series) (5 page)

A small side door opens and two
middle-aged women enter. One of them is carrying a broken basket
overladen with bread, while the other has two pitchers in her hands.
The women shuffle round the table, placing a large roll of bread on
each plate and pouring water into the glasses.

I stare at the two ladies, who
keep their eyes and heads down as they finish their tasks in silence.
So the serving and cleaning staff are kept separate from the girls.
I wonder how many of them are in the castle. How many of us.

Just as I am bending forward to
sniff at the bread and squint at the glass of water in front of me, I
hear chairs being scraped back as the girls rise in unison. I leap
to my feet, catching the back of my chair just in time to stop it
from crashing to the floor.

A tall woman with jet black hair
which she wears in a long braid has stepped through the double doors.
She closes the double doors silently behind her, and with a snap of
her fingers, dismisses the two serving women. They bow low and hurry
from the dining room, ducking through the side door.

This must be the new Warden. I
tilt my head slightly to watch her out of the corner of my eye. She
is wearing a long-sleeved, black military shirt without any insignia.
Her legs are clad in dark pants and combat boots. Just like the old
Warden. But unlike the old Warden, she is not wearing a cap and a
mask.

The Warden who received me last
night was a member of the resistance. I cannot assume that this new
Warden would aid me. In fact, I cannot depend on anyone here to help
me, not even the girls in my room. Pam? Pam has her own problems,
her own demons. I am here for a purpose. And if anyone finds out
who I am or what I am here for, I am royally screwed. And I can't
screw up. For Jaxon's sake. For all our sakes.

The Warden walks with unhurried,
measured steps towards the head of the table. Everyone keeps their
head down. As she moves down the table, she drags an electronic
tablet from her belt and logs onto the database of the Red Lantern.
Reading off the name list, she calls out our names one by one,
“Aabin, Kara.”

A petite girl with auburn hair
standing just opposite me lifts her right hand and answers, “Kara
Aabin here, Warden.” The Warden nods and Kara sits down
stiffly.

“
Brown, Mia.”

“
Mia Brown here, Warden!”
Mia shouts from the head of the long table and sits down after a
beat.

“
Crow, Sally.”

As the Warden goes down the
list, I realize that she is calling out the names in alphabetical
order. Their last names, from A to Z. I am Ana Zen, so I'll should
be one of the last to be called, if not the very last.

My nervousness grows as the
names roll by and one by one, the girls sit down. There are less
than ten of us left standing.

My eyes flit round the table.
Kylee is still standing, and I see her eyes dart to me before
flicking away.

The roll call continues, and
more girls sit down.

The Warden looks up from her
tablet. “Winter, Kylee.”

“
Kylee Winter here,
Warden,” Kylee raises her hand and drones.

She sits down slowly, leaving
just me and one other girl standing. I can feel frowns and stares
being thrown my way. The girls from the other rooms would not have
seen me before. I am a new face to them, and for a moment, I wonder
why the old Warden had chosen this name for me. Why didn't she
choose Ana Matthews or Ana Linn or something that would place me
smack in the middle of the list, where no one would notice me?

“
Young, Jennifer.”

“
Jennifer Young here,
Warden,” the tall brunette at the corner squeaks and slumps
into her chair.

The Warden looks at her tablet
then cocks her head at me.

“
Zen, Ana.”

My knees almost give out.

“
Ana Zen here, Warden,”
I say, willing my voice not to tremble.

The Warden frowns at her tablet.
“You...are new here.”

I gulp. “Yes, Warden.”

My palms are starting to sweat
as I clench and unclench my fists. Please don't ask me anything
more. The old Warden had told me that the database would record that
I joined the Red Lantern two nights ago. But I only came in last
night. What should I say? What does the database really reflect?
Am I about to be busted?

I wait for the death blow,
staring straight ahead.

“
Sit, Ana.” The
Warden puts her tablet away and waves me down.

I collapse onto my seat, sitting
on my hands to stop them from shaking.

The Warden clasps her hands
behind her back and surveys us. “Eat.”

The girls all reach out and grab
the bread roll with their hands. With heads bent, they start gnawing
and tearing at the bread with their fingers and teeth. They seem to
be trying to eat as fast as they can, but the bread looks too tough.

I test the bread with my
fingers, trying to peel a piece off my bread roll but it is as hard
as stone. I knock the bread against my knuckles. It feels like a
rock. This is stale, dry bread, hardly edible but it is the only
thing we are given.

I watch the girls gulp down
water and try to choke down their bread. I grab the glass and
swallow a mouthful of cold water. Inhaling sharply, I attack the
bread with a vengeance. Clamping my jaws around one corner of the
rock hard bread roll, I twist the roll round and round with my hands
and jerk my head to try to bite a damn piece off. I keep at it,
biting, twisting, chewing, swallowing, forcing the bread down my
throat bit by bit. Eating has never been such hard work but I am not
giving up. I will eat this, finish every stale crumb to stay alive.
I need the strength, but at the moment, it feels as though I am using
up all my strength just to finish the bread.

I don't look up until I am done.
I drain my glass, washing down the last morsel of tasteless bread
with cold water. Most of the girls have finished eating as well, and
are sitting quietly with their hands on their laps. May seems to be
struggling to finish her bread, but Lilin is whispering to her,
urging her on. I am guessing that there is a penalty for not
finishing what is on your plate.

The Warden raises a whistle to
her lips and blows. May stuffs the rest of the bread into her mouth
and rises with the rest of us. Her mouth works frantically, as her
eyes water and bulge out of her head. With supreme effort, she
forces down whatever is in her mouth and brings a fist to her lips to
stop herself from retching. Have they been eating this every single
day?

“
All right. Move to the
Pit now,” the Warden commands as she flings the double doors
wide open.

The girls step away from the
table and follow the Warden out of the dining room. Behind me, I see
the two women emerge silently from the side door and start clearing
away the plates and glasses.

The Warden walks to the grand
spiral staircase behind the fountain. We wind our way down the
stairs, descending deeper and deeper down the castle. Finally, the
stairs end and we spill out into a huge, cavernous hall. There are
shielded booths all over the hall, surrounding a round stage. The
stage is shaped like a doughnut, with a hole in the middle.

The Warden walks to the side of
the stage and presses a button. All the lights come on, with
multicolored spotlights trained on the stage. The circular stage
slowly whirs to life, rotating slowly.

“
I want to see your
poses,” the Warden calls out.

The girls immediately shuffle
into a line at the corner of the stage. The first five girls step
up onto the revolving stage and spread out so that they are evenly
spaced around the stage. The Warden blows her whistle and they
immediately remove their tank tops and shorts, letting their clothes
fall to the stage floor beside their bare feet.

They stand naked with their
hands at their sides and wait. When the Warden blows her whistle
again, they all fall to their knees with their hands cupping their
breasts. They maintain this pose until the stage has made one full
revolution. Then they sit and spread their legs wide, exposing their
cleanly shaved pussy. Some of the girls look away, while a couple of
them stare defiantly at the Warden. Once the stage has moved one
full circle, they change their pose again, this time standing up and
bending down to grab their ankles, giving the audience a clear view
of their naked butts. The next pose involves them dropping to all
fours and arching their backs. Finally they kneel again with their
hands behind their heads, their chests thrust forward.

The Warden nods once, and the
girls grab their clothes and clamber off the stage. The next five
girls move up the stage and repeat the poses. I watch the girls,
committing their poses to memory. There are another five groups
before me, so I have ample time to watch and learn.

It isn't so hard. It is easier
than that degrading dance that I had to do with the Sirens at the
Palace. We were draped in grapes and desserts, and we were
essentially dancing fruit and dessert platters for the Emperor and
his guests. We had to dance in front of them, without flinching or
whimpering even when they grabbed and pinched, and bit and suckled
us. Here at least there would be no hands and mouths on us while we
are on the stage. I think. I hope.

The five girls move off the
stage, and I move up the line, closer to the stage. I watch the
girls strike their poses, and by the third batch of girls, I have
fully memorized all the positions. I can do this.

The Warden's whistle sounds.

It is my turn.

I blink against the bright
lights on the stage and stumble up the steps. The girls
instinctively spread out so that we are equidistant apart on the
stage. The spotlight is in my eyes so I can't see the Warden or the
other girls. At the Warden's whistle, I strip quickly and try to
stand tall. My heart is thudding so loudly I can hardly hear my own
labored breathing. I glance to the girl on my right and see that she
has dropped to her knees. I follow suit and clumsily cup my breasts
with my hands. I have to remind myself not to grimace, and just keep
my face blank. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the other girls
moving to change poses and I imitate their movements as best and as
smoothly as I can.

The stage revolves endlessly and
I have to fight to keep my eyes open. I am growing so dizzy I am
afraid I might just topple off the stage and land face first on the
floor.

Spreading my legs
self-consciously, I have to close my eyes to stem the rising nausea.

“
Stop!” The Warden's
voice rings out.

The stage grinds to a halt, and
I scramble up in a daze.

“
Remain in position!”
the Warden orders as she marches up the stage. I tense as she stalks
towards me.

“
You.” She prods my
back with her knee. “Spread your legs wider. This is what
they came to see. Show it off. Put your hands on the inside of your
thighs and stretch your legs wide apart. Wider!”

“
I...I c-can't,” I
stammer, wincing from the sharp cramp in my leg.

“
You can't?” the
Warden asks in a dangerous tone. “Or you won't?”

“
I can't!” I cry,
struggling up. “Really, I'm trying but it hurts...”

“
You're not trying hard
enough.”

She pushes my shoulder down with
her knee and pulls out a gun. Pressing the gun to the back of my
head, she says, “Now. Try again.”

Blinking away the cold sweat
trickling down my forehead, I pull my legs apart, placing my hands on
my thighs. The cramp down my right leg is twisting my muscles into
knots. I just can't move my leg a single inch more. This is killing
me! And if this cramp doesn't kill me, the gun at the back of my
head would finish the job.

Gritting my teeth, I force my
legs as wide as they would go. The Warden stoops down suddenly and
puts her hands on my knees. She wrenches my legs back, and I scream
in pain. “This,” she hisses into my hair. “This
is how far you have to go.”

Tears spurt from my eyes as I
nod mutely. She releases my legs and I maintain my position, my
whole body quaking.

The Warden steps away from me
and strolls down the steps. “Good, very good.” She
presses the button and the stage starts to revolve once again. I
hold the position until the stage rotates one full circle. The girls
start to change their poses and I limp up, hissing out a curse under
my breath at the stab of pain up my leg. I stand up and bend over,
gripping my ankles with shaky hands. The next pose is relatively
easy, and I drop to my hands and knees almost with relief. Finally I
kneel and lace my fingers together behind my head, staring up at the
blinding spotlight.

The next group of girls are
already getting into position on the stage. Someone passes me and
reaches out a hand to help me up. I grasp the hand gratefully.
“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing my clothes off the floor.

“
You did all right,”
the girl whispers. “The Warden always picks on the new girl.
I think it's their Standard Operating Procedure,” she adds. I
recognize her as Kara Aadin, the girl whose name was the first to be
called by the Warden this morning. She is a petite young thing with
curly auburn hair, lively eyes and dimples.