Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
When I’d first stumbled on this room a couple of weeks ago, I’d thought it was some sort of odd torture chamber. A tomb with no windows, one door, and a single chair beneath a domed white ceiling. I’d never seen anything like it, and it wasn’t until I’d been dusting the control panel, tucked behind a booth by the wall, that I’d accidentally pressed a button and it all suddenly made sense.
“I want to go to bed,” he grumbled but went inside anyway, his black coat whipping behind him, cloaking his black trousers and shirt.
He’d dressed when I had, but unlike him wearing actual clothes, I wore the only thing I’d found in the changing room—the thickest, cosiest white robe that was miles too big for me. The hood hung down my back, the sleeves swallowed my hands, and the hem drowned my feet. I probably looked ridiculous, but my God, I was toasty beneath the fluffy wonderful fleece.
Following him, I closed the door and flicked the switch.
A single lamp by the control panel sprang to life, granting enough illumination to spy the single recliner right beneath the apex of the dome. “Go sit over there.”
He turned to glower at me. “Why? What are you up to?”
“The fact that you’re asking means you don’t know what this room does, do you?”
“I’ve lived here twenty years. Do you honestly think I don’t know every inch of this cage?”
“Just sit.”
His hands balled. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”
I grinned. “Do as you’re told. You can scold me after.”
His gaze shot to the door and my heart stopped as he swayed to leave. But with a huff, he obeyed and reluctantly made his way to the recliner. His bare feet made no noise on the thick black carpet, the white domed ceiling falling to meet it, giving the impression we existed in the middle of a sphere.
Whisper went to sit by the chair, his ebony pelt making him become one with the floor.
“I don’t like surprises,” Lucien warned as he sat down, arranged his coat to cover his legs, and gripped the armrests. He winced a little as he reclined—the cut on his shoulder pressing against the chair.
I hoped he’d at least put a bandage on it because he hadn’t allowed me to tend to him.
“You don’t like anything,” I muttered, heading toward the control panel.
He glowered at me.
I smiled. “Which is completely understandable and not at all your fault.”
His growl was soft but threatening. “You have two minutes before I’m leaving.”
Tapping the master button to wake everything up, I thanked my past of working in a high-tech company like Snowflake Corp and regularly playing with projector screens when I should’ve been studying. I might not be good around people or feelings, but technology was different. It wasn’t messy or complicated but logical and didn’t stress me out.
Lucien made a noise as I flipped the switch to make the chair recline so he was almost lying down, his eyes locked on the domed ceiling.
“What are you doing?” Raising his arm, he shook down his coat sleeve, revealing the silver cuff around his wrist. “If you’re wanting to siphon my blood, you’ve brought me to the wrong chair in the wrong room.”
I ignored him and the way he made my insides scrunch with pity.
“Just relax.” Even as I said the word, I knew he wouldn’t be able to. Probably didn’t know the meaning of it.
Flicking another switch, my ears caught the quiet whirr of the program kicking in and the projectors preparing to play.
Lucien fought to sit up. “This is a waste of my—”
The entire dome flickered to life, transforming the room from a claustrophobic chamber into the wild tangled jungles of Borneo. Birdsong erupted, loud and crystal clear. Frogs croaked, adding wonderful percussion, while sunlight poured through huge umbrella trees, turning the light faintly green.
Lucien sucked in a breath as an orangutan ambled down a forest path, a little stream babbled past complete with jewelled dragonflies zipping over algae-slick rocks. Everywhere we looked, in every sense and corner, trees and vines and flowers swallowed us whole.
With the trick of immersive panels, we were transported from his prison into the world he hadn’t been allowed to step foot in for ever so long.
I couldn’t look away from him as the camera started to pan, moving forward as if we walked the path with the orangutan, micro details of tree trunks, lichen, and dust motes surrounding us. Rain began to fall, the soft ping of droplets like music on thick tropical leaves, intermixing with the birdsong and animal calls.
Whisper shot to his feet, snarling as a parrot screeched overhead, followed by a roar of a predator. His ears flickered, fangs bared, completely tricked by the illusion.
Just like his master.
Lucien sat frozen.
The green light of the jungle washed over his face, catching on the tightness of his mouth. His eyes slowly widened as he sank deeper into the chair, his fingers loosening around the armrests.