𝑽𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂 [M.Kaiser x reader]

• Chapter 44 •

"They were just kids..."
-Y/n

*(Warning: inappropriate photos, raw bodies, suggestive topics, murder references, etc.)*
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The long dark hallway gave way to walls painted in a soft rose hue, their brightness a stark contrast to the unsettling events that had led Y/n and Michael there. The walls were adorned with photographs in ornate golden frames, depicting serene landscapes, smiling faces, and scenes so idealized they seemed almost artificial.

Y/n tightened her grip on Michael's hand as they walked, the sound of their footsteps absorbed by the plush carpet beneath them. She glanced at him, his eyes scanning every inch his eyes could take, jaw set in determination.

"It feels too... calm," Y/n whispered, her voice purposely low.

Michael nodded but didn't speak, his gaze narrowing as they reached a series of polished expensive looking doors. He stopped at one, examining the intricate carvings on its surface before gripping the handle.

"Ready?" he asked, glancing at her.

She nodded. "Let's go in."

Michael pushed the door open, revealing a sprawling room filled with luxurious beds arranged in neat rows. Each bed was a work of art, its canopy draped with silken curtains that shimmered faintly, casting sparkling dust into the air. The pillows were embroidered with names, marking ownership.

Y/n stepped forward, her curiosity outweighing her apprehension. The shimmering dust caught her attention, its particles floating lazily in the air. She reached out hesitantly, brushing her fingertips against it. The sensation was immediate. Her skin felt itchy and her eyelids heavy.

"I think it's a type of sleep drug," she stumbled, pulling her hand back and wiping it on the bed frame.

Michael walked up beside her, studying the dust with a frown. "Ignore it," he said firmly. "We need to find anything to help us get out of here."

Together they began their search, patting the ornate floorboards and examining every corner of the room. Y/n's eyes drifted to the walls, where more photographs hung. This time of young girls, their faces bright with forced smiles.

Plush toys and personal trinkets were scattered across the beds , mingling with inappropriate and unsettling photographs that made her stomach churn.

"They were just kids," Y/n whispered, her voice thick with sorrow.

Michael didn't open his mouth, but his clenched fists spoke volumes.

Y/n's eyes landed on a massive wardrobe in the corner of the room. Its meticulous design seemed out of place, even among the extravagant decor. Was there something the designer was trying to hide?