Clutching the photo tightly to my chest, I whispered, "Don’t touch my daughter. Please... don’t touch my daughter."
"I’ll behave. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt her."
I lay on the floor, holding the photo like it was life itself.
"Elise, Elise... Mommy will protect you. I’ll protect you, no matter what."
Since my daughter was taken away, this photo has been the only thing keeping me sane.
More and more, I could not tell the difference between what was real and what was not, between the real my daughter and pictures.
Damien grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the wall.
"Still pretending to be crazy? You just love acting pitiful, don’t you? Addicted to lying now?"
"The training staff may not dare lay a hand on you, but I will."
A large clump of my hair was ripped from my scalp and sharp pain tore across my head.
Blood ran from a fresh gash.
Dazed, I could only think, I’ve been so obedient, so why do you still want to hurt me?
Suddenly, it dawned on me. I remembered some guests had peculiar tastes. They enjoyed beating people as they found pleasure in humiliation.
With that in mind, I dropped to my knees without hesitation.
My body trembled violently, mimicking the desperate wagging of an invisible tail.
I was already degrading myself beyond measure, yet Damien’s rage only deepened.
He clenched his jaw, his voice low and threatening, "So you want to humiliate yourself, huh?"
"Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep this act up."
He turned and shouted at the mentor, "Bring your guard dog."
The dog they brought out was vicious and temperamental. Thick chains restrained it, but it snarled and lunged toward me.
Damien slapped me hard across the face. "Didn’t you want to perform? Didn’t you want to act deranged? To disgrace yourself?"
"Why stop now? Is your act wearing thin?"
In this place, a guest’s request was law.
I stared at the beast and slowly sank back onto my knees.
It growled louder, more savagely.
Perhaps... it really was starving.
Without a second thought, I bit down hard on the back of my hand, tearing off a chunk of flesh. I spat the bloodied meat into a bowl and gently slid it toward the dog.
"Sir, your dinner is served."
That was the last straw for Damien. He seized a chair and brought it crashing down on me.
I shrieked as the blow slammed me against the wardrobe.
The heavy piece of furniture rattled violently and then toppled forward with a deafening crash.