Pandora’s POV
The darkness of the room pressed in around me, thick and suffocating. My hands were tied tightly behind the chair, the rough ropes biting into my skin.
Hours had passed, but the ache was becoming unbearable now, my wrists were numb, and I could feel the blood circulation cutting off.
Panic twisted in my chest, but I fought to keep it down, knowing that showing fear would only make things worse.
Ms. Edna was a psychopath. I knew that much the moment her laughter had turned cold, and cruel, as if she enjoyed watching me suffer. There was no reasoning with her, no chance of escape without risking something far worse.
My face still stung from the slap she had given me earlier, and the swelling made my skin feel tight like it could split open at any moment.
The door creaked open, and my heart leaped into my throat as she entered the room again. Her presence felt like a storm gathering in the small space, her wild eyes fixated on me.
She was holding a tray, but I couldn’t make out what was on it in the dim light.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Her voice was sweet, but it was the kind of sweetness that masked something vile underneath. She set the tray down on a small table beside me, her eyes never leaving mine.
“My hands…” I rasped, my throat dry. “They’re starting to swell. Please… if you don’t untie me, I might lose them.”
Ms. Edna tilted her head, studying me with a twisted curiosity. Then, she laughed a shrill, manic sound that sent chills down my spine.
“I’ll untie you when I feel like it, Pandora. I don’t care about your hands.” She waved dismissively, her eyes gleaming with something dark. “You’ll be just fine. Or maybe you won’t. It really doesn’t matter to me.”
I swallowed hard, the fear twisting tighter in my gut. I needed to keep her talking, to find out if there was any way to get through to her. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “You were… kind, once. What happened to you?”
Ms. Edna’s face shifted, her smile fading. For a moment, I thought I saw something human in her eyes, a flicker of the woman she might have been before all of this. But then it was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow expression.
“You want to know what happened to me, Pandora?” she whispered, stepping closer until I could smell the sharp scent of sweat and madness on her. “I wasn’t always this way. No. But life has a funny way of twisting people into things they never thought they’d become.”
I remained silent, my throat tight as she continued.
“I was married once, you know,” She started, her tone almost conversational. “A long time ago. I was even happy, or so I thought. But then I found out my husband was cheating on me. While I was pregnant.”
She laughed again, that awful sound that seemed to reverberate off the walls.
My stomach twisted at her words. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, though the words felt inadequate.
Ms. Edna’s face twisted into a grotesque smile, her eyes gleaming with something close to delight. “Sorry? Oh, no, Pandora. Don’t be sorry. You haven’t even heard the best part.”
She leaned in close, her breath hot on my face. “I took care of the problem. I lost the baby… by my own hand.”
I blinked, my brain struggling to process what she was saying. “What… what do you mean?” I whispered.
“I got rid of it,” she said, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. “I took an iron hook and ripped it out of me. Then I cooked it.” She grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light. “I served it to my husband for dinner. The bastard deserved it, don’t you think?”
A wave of nausea hit me so hard that I almost doubled over, but the ropes kept me upright. My stomach churned violently, but there was nothing in it to bring up, only bile. I gagged, the bitter taste flooding my mouth, but nothing came out.
I struggled to catch my breath, my head spinning. I had to keep my composure, had to stay calm, but the horror of her words was like a physical weight pressing down on me.
What kind of person could do something so monstrous?
“You… you need help,” I managed to choke out, my voice weak. “You’re not well, Ms. Edna. This isn’t who you are. You don’t have to keep doing this.”
Her face darkened, the playful glint in her eyes vanishing. “Help?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. “You think I need help? You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she didn’t give me a chance. Her hand lashed out, striking me across the face, hard. My head snapped to the side, and the pain exploded through my skull, stars dancing in my vision.
“Don’t you dare try to psychoanalyze me, little girl,” she hissed, her voice venomous. “I know exactly what I’m doing. And I don’t need your pity.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. “You don’t have to do this,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “You can still stop.”
She stood over me, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, her expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, slowly, a cruel smile spread across her face.
“Stop?” she said softly. “Oh, Pandora. We’re just getting started.”
She reached for the tray beside her, and for the first time, I saw what was on it. A collection of knives, sharp and glinting in the dim light. My heart stopped, dread pooling in my stomach.
Ms. Edna picked up a blade, turning it over in her hands as if admiring its craftsmanship. “This,” she said, her voice almost reverent, “is where the fun really begins.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat, the full weight of my situation crashing down on me. There was no reasoning with her, no talking her down from this madness. She was too far gone, consumed by whatever demons had taken root in her mind.
And now, I was at her mercy.
“Please…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but she either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, the knife poised in her hand.