An abyssal darkness reigned within the cold walls of the room where Janab opened her eyes. Trapped in a heavy silence, she was unable to distinguish anything within that oppressive, uncomfortable blackness.
The air was dense, carrying a faint scent of wood and wax. The only certain thing was that she lay upon a bed far too soft, far too luxurious to feel real. For long minutes she couldn't understand her surroundings: her mind tangled memories with hallucinations, making it impossible to separate questions from answers.
The silence stretched until it felt absolute. With every passing second, her thoughts seemed to fracture a little more. When at last her eyes adjusted to the dimness, nearly an hour passed before she found the courage to move. Slowly she extended her hands, brushing through the empty air with uncertain gestures, restrained by a fear that kept her frozen in place.
The pounding of her heart thundered in her ears while her eyes strained to search the darkness. At last she left the bed. Her hands met smooth, cold walls: there were no windows, and time inside that place seemed to have lost all meaning.
She moved with agonizing slowness. Her trembling steps were the only thing disturbing the unmoving silence, until her fingers found a switch.
Light burst into the dim room, revealing a spacious chamber: a table, a pair of chairs, austere armchairs, and the immense bed where she had awakened. Modern furniture contrasted with classic lamps and subtle golden details. At the far end, near the only two visible doors, another space could be glimpsed.
The smaller door stood open. Beyond it, a luxurious bathroom followed the same decadent aesthetic as the room. The main door, however, was sealed. The thick, solid wood was impossible to damage even with her nails.
There were no clocks. No sign of day or night. Uncertainty was a pit in which she could drown, and panic began to circle her like an invisible predator.
After cautiously inspecting the room, she returned to the bed. The fear remained—both physical and mental—like an anchor sunk deep within her chest. She closed her eyes, resigned to letting time pass without measure.
Then a dry sound shook her.
Her lungs forgot how to breathe, and something in her chest nearly burst.
The door handle turned with a metallic click that echoed through her soul like an omen. The seconds that followed became unbearable.
—I'm glad you're awake. I brought something for you.
A tall figure slipped into the room. Brown hair, falling in soft waves over firm shoulders, hid his face for a moment. When he brushed it aside, it revealed pale, luminous skin and lips curved in a carefully charming smile. His voice was neutral—yet hypnotic.
—You must be hungry.
Janab found herself lost in that poisoned beauty. Her breathing grew clumsy; though she didn't feel openly threatened, a corrosive distrust tightened her stomach.
—Your name is Janab, isn't it? I'm Astilbe.
The lights in the room dimmed slightly, as if obeying the sinister elegance of his voice. In his green eyes lived a coldness that clashed with his gentle expression, and deep within her instincts Janab understood she was facing something that did not feel human.
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