Release In The Dark (DARK erotic romance series) (7 page)

Spluttering and coughing, I gulp
in greedy lungfuls of air. My head starts to clear and my senses
return in a rush. I push myself up, choking and breathing hard. The
sounds of my own thundering heartbeat and frantic breathing are like
music to my ears. I am alive. I am bloody alive!

I raise my head and glimpse the
metal claw swaying slightly from the ceiling. That glinting metal
claw had dipped down and retrieved me from that cold, watery hell.

When I am finally able to catch
my breath and focus, I turn to see the Warden ordering a handful of
girls off the stage. The front of their tank tops are wet. So are
their arms and hands. These are the girls who have helped turn me on
my side and thumped me vigorously on my back to get me to cough out
the water.

Pam's wet hands are covering her
mouth. She lowers her hands to flash me a quivering smile.

“
Not bad.” The
Warden's voice floats down to me. I force myself to stand up so I
can look her in the eye. I expect to see some sadistic pleasure or
cruel derision in her eyes. But she simply regards me
dispassionately. She claps a hand on my shoulder and nods. “You'll
have to do a little better tonight. Your costume will take a minute
longer than this to dissolve completely. Only then will you be
fished out. Got it?”

“
Y-yes.”

She hands me my clothes and
dismisses me. My head spinning and my body still shivering, I
somehow manage to stab my shaking limbs into my clothes and fumble
off the stage.

“
Next.” The Warden
looks around and picks a girl at random. “You. Up here.”

I hug myself tightly to try to
stop my shivering. There are some whispered words of encouragement
from the girls around me, but my teeth are chattering too much for me
to answer. I just nod and try to smile but I think it comes out as a
grimace.

As I watch the Warden fasten the
harness around the girl on stage, I see her checking the wire to make
sure it is secure. Once the girl is completely submerged in the
water, the Warden holds up her watch and starts timing her. The
Warden's eyes dart between the girl and her watch, her brows furrowed
in concentration. I suddenly realize that the Warden is simply doing
her job. It is not her aim to torture or kill us. She is just here
to oversee us and train us for our routine. She is just a soldier on
rotation to the Red Lantern, doing her duty, carrying out her orders.

The Lantern chain of novelty
brothels is run by the State, not the Army. I should think the
Emperor, or more likely, the Empress, has a hand in designing these
sadistic themes and routines. The Warden is just one of their
soldiers.

In the Palace, the Empress had
made me watch, using metal clamps to force my eyes open, while a
Slave serviced her. The Slave had become hard enough to service her
only by using my body, forcing his mouth and tongue between my legs,
while I was hung up by my wrists in the Empress's dark chamber. I
close my eyes, rocking on my feet as the image of that Slave comes
crashing unbidden into my mind. The Slave with the white hair,
predatory green eyes and scarred, powerful body. Owen Vesparr. Owen
had wanted me. He had used me, abused me and tried to take me.

I shudder at the memory of
Owen's bestial hunger. But maybe he had no choice. As a Slave, he
had been forced to fight a fellow Slave to the death for the Emperor
and Empress's entertainment. The Empress had chosen him, the victor,
to service her in her chambers. And he had chosen me—for his
pleasure and torment.

“
Ana. Ana!”

I snap my eyes open. “Wha-?”

Pam is holding me firmly by the
arm. “Are you okay? You've gone all pale!”

“
I'm fine.”

I gaze at her anxious face and
see the faint lines and shadows around her eyes. Pam, so kind and
caring, despite all the hardship and suffering that she has gone
through. She has endured indescribable pain and torment, both mental
and physical. It shows in the lines on her face and the scar on her
shoulder.

“
When you have teetered on
the brink of death, memories sometimes rise from the abyss to haunt
and taunt you. The horror of your recent ordeal brings back memories
of past hurt and suffering. You have to be stronger than your mind.
Be strong, Ana,” she says softly, without looking at me.

I turn to her. She has gone
through this before. Teetered on the brink of death and faced her
nightmarish memories over and over again.

I reach out and touch her
lightly on the arm. Her skin feels cold, so very cold. “Thank
you,” I whisper. “You...you're right.”

She closes her eyes briefly and
nod. There is a sudden movement from the stage and I jerk my head up
to see the Warden rushing to the control panel at the side to type
furiously.

The girl is twisting in the
water, her face contorted in pain. The Warden stabs at a button and
the glass lid slides back from the top of the column to allow the
metal claw to plunge in.

The sputtering, screaming girl
is fished out and laid on the stage. The Warden orders the four
girls standing nearest the stage to attend to her. Once the girl had
sat up and has stopped coughing, the Warden shakes her head and tells
her solemnly, “You won't make it tonight if you don't hold on
longer. You have to last another two and a half minutes. Do you
understand?”

The girl nods miserably, swiping
at her eyes. Gathering herself and her clothes up, she limps off the
stage and bursts into tears as another girl is called up to take her
place. One by one, the girls are dunked in and fished out. There
are some who do worse than me. They are crying and shrieking
hysterically even before their toes have hit the water surface.
Others are calm, resigned, showing not a trace of fear as they are
lowered into the glass column.

When it is Pam's turn, I inch to
the front of the stage. My eyes never leave her as she is slowly
lowered into the water. I find myself holding my breath together
with her, my whole body thrumming with anxiety.

You can do it, Pam! Be
strong.

The harness detaches from her
naked body, leaving her suspended in the middle of the tall column,
her brown hair fanning out in a halo around her head. She stops
herself from floating up by pressing against the curved glass surface
with the tips of her fingers. Her eyes are wide open, her expression
calm. She looks straight ahead, staring placidly at something only
she can see. There is a slight smile on her face, a smile tinged
with pain and longing.

The seconds and minutes tick by.
Not a bubble escapes her nose and lips. Her lips quiver but still
there is that eerily serene smile on her face. I am gripping the
edge of the stage, unable to breathe, unable to look away. Gulping,
I blink up at the Warden. “Is it time...why is she not
moving...why...?” I rasp.

Why is she still in there?
Isn't it time to get her out? Goddamn it! Do something! Something
is not right. Get her out of that water now!

The Warden looks at her watch,
her fingers drumming against her leg. She is watching Pam closely
as well. Finally, the glass lid slides back from the top of the
column and the metal claw descends to pluck Pam from the watery
depths. Pam doesn't blink even when the claw closes around her body
and starts to pull her out of the water. But once she emerges from
the water, she let out a strangled sound and slumps like a rag doll
in the gigantic claw. Crying out in fear, I clamber up the stage and
reach up to support her dripping body as the claw lowers her onto the
stage.

I help her sit up and thump her
hard on the back. “Pam! Breathe, Pam! Breathe!”

There is a sharp inhale and Pam
jolts upright in my arms. She doesn't even choke or spit out any
water. She just blinks a couple of times and pushes herself up
stiffly.

I stagger back. “Pam!”

She turns and looks at me
strangely. She doesn't seem to recognize me. Then she looks up at
the Warden with eyes that are blank and unseeing.

The Warden's eyes widen a
fraction, before she nods to dismiss her.

As I help Pam down the stage, I
glance over my shoulder to see the Warden look away with a small, sad
shake of her head.

I hold Pam tighter. It is
obvious even to the Warden that Pam must have endured this grueling
routine many, many times, and come face to face with death so many
times that she is now numb to the prospect. Maybe she even welcomes
it.

Pam is as still and silent as a
statue, her eyes glazed as she stares at that glittering column of
water. Tentatively, protectively, I wrap my arms around her, hoping
to comfort her and assure her.

As I watch the rest of the girls
move up the stage to be dunked into the water column, I have to turn
to counting the bubbles to distract myself from their terrified faces
and struggling, thrashing bodies.

For now, there is that metal
claw to save us from our near deaths. But tonight, if our breaths
run out before our costumes have fully dissolved from our bodies,
there will be no claw to save us.

We will be left to drown in the
harsh spotlight, under the glare of all these glowing red lanterns
and the stares of soulless, sadistic eyes.

From the whispers and murmurs
around me, I know that bets will be placed on who will make it out of
the column and who will drown.

All part of the entertainment.

If we drown, no one will feel
anything. Oh, wait. The patrons who've just lost exorbitant amounts
of money betting on us may feel something. But after our wet, limp
bodies are dragged from the stage, the show goes on. The
entertainment continues.

Now I know why Irin said that my
experience as a Siren in the Palace would either steel me or break me
in the Red Lantern.

Watching us drown is just part
of the sadistic, exotic entertainment provided at the Red Lantern.
But that surely is not the worst of it.

There will be more savage and
deadly games to play in the night.

After a late lunch of stale
bread and water, we are herded off to shower and shave. We are to
head back directly to the Pit. All of us are completely naked, but
no one seems to bat an eyelid or raise a hand to cover themselves.
The girls simply follow the Warden in a straight line down the
corridors and through a small door at the back of the Pit. Everyone
and everything moves like clockwork, obviously accustomed to this
pre-show routine.

The room is much larger than I
expected. Larger, and darker. There are circular grooves on the
floor, and the girls automatically step into the circles and stand
still, with their arms held straight, slightly away from their
bodies. I follow suit, picking a circle in the middle of the room
and mimicking their stance. The Warden walks round the room,
checking that all of us are standing within our circles and
maintaining the correct stance. I don't blink when she looks me up
and down, and kicks my legs further apart. What kind of rehearsal is
this? And if this is a rehearsal, then where are our costumes? The
Warden did mention that we would be wearing some sort of soluble
costume.

The Warden makes her round
slowly, her thick brows furrowed in concentration. Finally, she
steps back against the wall, and pulls a lever. With a boom, a light
comes on above every circle, shining a narrow beam of white light
down on each girl. I gasp as a glass tube descends swiftly and locks
down onto the groove in the floor. I am entirely encased in a tall,
narrow glass tube. So are the rest of the girls.

The girls maintain their
positions in their glass prisons, showing no trace of alarm on their
faces. I force my fists to unfurl and my limbs to remain frozen.
Stay clam. This is just part of the routine.

There is a loud hissing sound
above me, but before I can look up, the entire glass chamber is
filled with smoke. I blink furiously and see that the other glass
tubes are similarly swirling with smoke of various colors and
textures. I cough slightly, and inhale against my will. The smoke
is odorless and feels almost thick and wet. The hissing sound
continues as different colored smoke pours down on me, drenching me
in glowing neon colors. I can feel beads of moisture clinging to my
skin and I shiver at the chilly sensation. With a final spurt of
viscous smoke, the hissing stops abruptly.

As the smoke gradually clears, I
look down at my body and start. My body is covered with glittering
body paint. My entire body is a riot of colors, which sparkles and
ripples with my movements. I turn my arms over and watch the colors
slowly merge and change, creating different patterns all across my
skin. I'm like a walking kaleidoscope.

Amazed, I look up to see the
glass tubes rise and release the girls from their smoke chambers.
Each girl sports a different pattern and mix of colors on her body.
Some have been spray painted a uniform midnight blue with shimmering
diamonds dotting their bodies, so that they look like a human shaped
piece of night sky. Others have gold and silver scales over their
skin, or animal prints decorating their bodies.