Mistress of Time & her 12 Mates

5. no homo bro

I expected to wake up around white. Not the funeral-esque white,  no of course why would I wake up at my funeral?! But the plain white of our school's infirmary, surrounded by the smell of room cleaner and repulsive balms applied on injured athletes.

But I did not expect to wake up in a room representing posh extravagance and filthy richness.

What scam was the owner of this house running?

The sparkling chandelier overhead, the queen sized bed adorned with silk sheets, the obnoxious imperial windows overseeing an enormous garden — one could never afford this luxury without owning a country.

I wanted to sit up, but the riches intimidated me. I felt too out of place and uncomfortable to even raise my head or speak a word but the longer time I spent on the bed, the more indebted I felt.
.
.
.
But...

Where am I?

Why am I here?

How was I here?

What if they demand money for letting me stay here?

What ha— nevermind, my beautiful blunder of a morning rushed through my brain like a cheap low budget theater movie glitching on repeat. Cringing with my whole body, I curled up to my right and buried myself inside the spectacularly warm fleece quilt.

At least my drowsiness was gone and I didn't feel light headed anymore. What had even happened...? Did I imagine all of it up? The voice and the time...people freezing up...no,I couldn't have. The pain I felt was so real, there's no way I was deluding myself.

A lucid dream?

It was too erratic to be true...maybe I passed out from nervousness when Aedion was asking me questions. Yes, that sounds plausible. But— why would my brain make up a scenario where I am tortured for rejecting to babysit, that too a prophet.

Whatever the hell that meant. My mother has always been into fantasies and my father is also now on the sanest side of the spectrum...made I did brew it all up like a fever dream.

But, more importantly, where am I?

The surroundings, other than being extremely aesthetic, weren't much help on tracking my location down. Nor were there any personal items to determine that I was invading someone's privacy.

Whosoever brought me here surely had means and resources to get this through.

The doorknob turned and the lock clicked open. I gasped, shutting my eyes close.

Play dead. Play dead! PLAY DEAD!!

CONSISTENT BREATHS.

PLAY DEAD!

DON'T LET THERE BE CREASES IN YOUR EYELIDS!

PLAY DEAD.

The footsteps neared closer to my bed.

WHAT IF THEY KEPT ME HERE TO FEED ME WELL AND THEN STEAL MY KIDNEYS?!

My eyes flung open as instant horror washed over me. My hands instantly flung  over my stomach to feel any evident scars of secret surgeries. The handsome man in front was fidgeting with the drip irrigation stand and I realized there was an IV cannula tapped on my right wrist.

ARE THEY DRUGGING ME?!

I screamed.

The man in front, tall and lean, dressed in black formals with white gloves typically looking like an anime butler, jolted and screamed right back at me.

He was too loud!

Hastily, I lunged at him with a pillow and shoved it on his face, tackling him on the ground as I straddled him. My butt on his heaving chest, and my hands evidently trying to suffocate him and break out.