Feigning Sleep

Though there was nothing but darkness, it was warm and comfortable.

Wake up...

As consciousness started to rouse to the surface a dull aching pain started to rear itself with a gruesome clarity. To escape such a pain, one should fly further from a wakeful state into the peacefully warm comfort brought by the silent uncluttered darkness.

WAKE UP!

The sound was a deafening holler and immediately brought her eyes to snap open. As an unfamiliar view filled her vision, Nastasia did not dare to move a muscle. The voice that had screamed in her head to encourage wakefulness, the very same one that spoke to her during a similar bout of unconsciousness, applauded her decision.

"Look, my dear," a rich and smooth baritone crooned somewhere to her left. She resisted the urge to turn her head at the sound, forcing herself to feign sleep. "I wanted to capture the bastard you call son, but instead ended up with the Red Demon you brought here to save him."

"Master," another voice, rough and uneven, chimed in, "I wasn't given a large enough sample to study and couldn't quite find the answers you wanted. Now that we have the living material before us, can't I harvest some pieces from her?"

"Hnn," the man hummed his agreement, "but only a bit of blood and a bit of energy. It shouldn't take more than that to test for what I need to know. Once we know whether or not she can serve the purpose I need then I may say you're free to take whatever you want."

Hearing such a horrifying conversation it took everything Nastasia had not to show any form of reaction. Keeping her breathing regular was the most trying part of the whole process. There was nothing she could do about her irregularly beating heart except to hope that, in this world of the supernatural, super-hearing wasn't a thing.

"I understand, master," droned the second voice.

"Well, I suppose, since my velichaysheye kop'ye brought back such a prize, I should reward him." His words didn't sound happy at all and were drenched in reluctance. "Now, what to do in order to not breed any more arrogance in that head of his." He pondered.

"Why reward him, master? Aren't you already being kind in not punishing him for failing to carry out the simple task you assigned him?" The other, rougher voice added as if he were trying to be helpful. "It was the thief he was to bring back, but instead he brought you this girl that wasn't needed yet."

There was a dangerously sharp smile in that soft baritone of the first speaker as he replied to the second. "My, aren't you unusually helpful." The first voice paused for a moment and then drawled out. "Don't think that by telling me this, I'll let you butcher the girl for your experiments."

"Of course not, master," the rougher second voice easily denied without sounding the least bit hesitant. "Whether punished or rewarded, as long as I can continue to research new things, all else fails to matter. The blood and energy given earlier are sufficient; I'll test them right away."

After those last words, the sound of quickly escaping foot steeps faded into the distance.

Even though silence suddenly filled up the air around her, Nastasia did not relax her feigned sleep in the slightest. That man, with that familiar soft voice, by his tone and words was a dangerous and mad creature.

To be caught by him, she didn't think she'd be able to survive the consequences.

A time later, after he cooed about this and that, once again silence reigned after his footsteps too disappeared into the distance. Nastasia did not open her eyes right away. She waited until the sound of his footsteps faded beyond her hearing. Even then, she waited a few seconds more, just to be safe.

As her eyes popped open what filled her vision was an unfamiliar room bathed in the slight light offered by the fire of a single brazier situated just outside the entrance of the room she had been left in. There was a penetrating and dull ache coursing through the center of her right shoulder to radiate outward.

It was quite painful and rather distracting that it wasn't until after the pair left for her mind realize they were speaking in English. This new insight brought about several questions. The foremost she desired to answer was whether the English spoken here was from her world or something that had already existed in this realm, but had been hidden.

Weakened by her injuries, it took Nastasia a bit of time to rise from her prone position against the rock slab beneath her. As she did so, with her eyes adjusted to the low lighting, she first checked over her person. Though she wasn't aware of who had taken care of her injuries, everything was properly bandaged with a strong medicinal scent wafting toward her nose.

While checking herself over, she had been calling out to the voice. Hoping to receive a reply, she was disappointed with silence. Swinging her legs down, she got to her feet quite intent on attempting to leave as quietly as she could.

As she stood Nastasia came face to face with a deathly pale beauty. Her long silky lavender locks fell unrestrained down her shoulders to flow around the stone bench she sat. Her red-eyed gaze was so unfocused that it was unsettling. A delicate, yet eccentric, beauty like the porcelain dolls Nastasia's mother collected.

There was something familiar about this red-eyed woman.

Leaning closer, she whispered as low as she could to still be heard by the one in front only. "Were you also-!" Her words cut short. After getting a look at the woman from so near a distance, Nastasia couldn't help noticing something strange in her, almost, sightless stare.

Reaching out a hand, she felt the woman's face that still retained a bit of warmth. However, the heat of life did not radiate from her and, going a step further, she found that breath did not flow through the woman's lungs.

Such a beautiful woman that appeared to be full of life and completely unlike a corpse was, "dead," she whispered in disbelief. Pulling back her trembling hand, Nastasia swallowed back her unsettled nerves.

It was time to leave.

However, as she turned her body was obstructed by a broad chest, nose smacking into a hard shoulder. Big, strong hands, gripped her arms and pressed her back to her original spot upon waking. She refused to tremble, shake, or show any signs of fear toward her captor.

Upon catching a good look at his face, she breathed, "you..." It was the spitting image of the portrait she drew, intending to find the man who had spoken her English.

That man threw out a wicked grin, his dark eyes speaking of a deep madness. He pressed her until she was laying upon the rock slab, his body nearly resting above hers as he securely pinned her down. "Did you think that you could feign sleep and I wouldn't notice?" He brought his hand to trace down her cheek, burning a path of revulsion along her skin. "Did you think that I would allow you to escape again?"

He chuckled mockingly, "I won't make the same mistake twice."