Karl didn’t attempt to respond—mostly because doing so would only force his lips to move, and given the circumstances, that would make his previous efforts rather futile. Besides, was this woman an enemy? Her eyes held a degree of clarity, but was she in control, or was Olmer still pulling her strings?

They found themselves in a sort of standoff, each seeming to wait for the other to speak first. After some time in the stifling silence, the woman moved closer, holding a brown pouch in one hand and gripping a sickle in the other—Karl’s sickle. How did she get it?

He winced at the thought. Of course, she had it. She must be a puppet. The real question was what she intended to do with it. Would she return it to him or use it against him? Either way, he’d be defenseless if she opted for the latter. All he could do was hope.

She stared at him, then slowly took cautious steps toward him. “You’re not going to sink your teeth into me too, right?” she asked, pausing as if awaiting an answer.

An answer Karl couldn’t give without risking the puppet’s flesh slipping from his jaws. What was she planning? He deliberated briefly, then, seeing no other choice, gave a small nod, one that nearly tore the flesh from his mouth.

Damn it!

The woman smiled and continued her approach. She entered the cage, her steps as quiet as those trained in the Mysteries school of thought. Was she one of them? A member of a group sent to the castle to rescue the mutants? He eyed her anxiously. Unlike the others who wore kefna, she wore a crude white coat—similar, yet an imitation of the real thing, perhaps deliberately crafted that way.

What did that mean? Did it signify she wasn’t a sanguine? If so, why did Olmer make her a puppet? Or maybe he wasn’t selective when creating his puppets. Anyone, it seemed, could be forced into it… even Karl.

I need to get out of here!

The odd woman, moving in almost comical steps, came up to him, positioning herself behind the puppet’s corpse.

“We need to hurry,” she said.

For what? Karl felt a surge of apprehension. What was going on?

Her gaze remained fixed on him, like she was observing a feral beast that might pounce if left unchecked. Perhaps there was some truth to that.

“You need to get out, don’t you?” she said, her hand drifting to the puppet’s trousers.

Is she planning to free me?

“I guess you can’t speak with him in your mouth,” she continued. “But you see, I need help—protection.” Her hand rummaged in the puppet’s pockets, pulling out an intricate key.

Freedom! The key seemed to glow in Karl’s eyes. It was his ticket to freedom.

But she didn’t unlock his chains. Instead, she stood just inches away, watching him with an expectant gaze. Realizing she was waiting for a response, Karl loosened his grip on the puppet’s flesh. It felt strange to do so after the effort he’d put into holding it there. The body dropped with a muffled thud to the ground.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“As I said,” she replied, “protection. Obviously, you’re a sanguine, but I’m not, and I’m also not like the strange freaks wandering around. If I’m to survive, I need your help.”

Karl studied her. “How did you awaken?” He meant her newfound clarity. The last time he’d seen her, though her eyes held some awareness, it hadn’t been this strong. Supposedly, the boy’s dream had weakened Olmer’s control over the puppets, but none had fully broken free—or at least, none that he had encountered.

In any case, he needed to know if there was some additional requirement for breaking free. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to test it himself anytime soon.

The woman remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on him. Finally, a sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t really know,” she replied. “All I remember is that sometime yesterday, I think, I suddenly woke up—my mind trapped inside my body. I tried to move, fight back, anything. At first, it was impossible, but maybe because of my determination, the force holding my mind began to weaken. And eventually, I regained control.”

Karl listened intently. So those controlled by Olmer are in a state of slumber? But did she wake up because of the dream? And if so, have others awakened too, or is she unique? he wondered. Based on her account, he could deduce that she possessed a strong will—a drive to survive. Perhaps that was what set her apart.

She wanted to live badly enough that she eroded Olmer’s control. If that was the key to resisting puppeteering, then Karl had little to worry about. He, too, wanted to live, to exist, to retain his autonomy. If the master of the castle ever tried to seize his mind, he should be able to break free.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Karl gave a curt nod. “Then we have an agreement.”

The woman smiled. “Though there’s a chance you won’t even keep it,” she said. “Moments like these make me wish for a notary. But what can a girl do?” She leaned in, took the key, and inserted it into the chains around Karl’s wrists.

With a creak, the chains sprang open, releasing their grip on him. However, as his upper body was freed, he jerked forward and crashed onto the ground, landing with a thud. His legs had been held apart, suspending him above the floor.

He grimaced, casting a glare at the woman, who couldn’t help but chuckle. “Release me!” he commanded menacingly.

She froze momentarily, then shrugged. “Remember, you promised to protect me, all right?”

Karl reined in his gaze and nodded tersely. She sighed again, unlocking the chains around his legs. He collapsed to the floor, his knees hitting the ground hard.

He stared at the ground—or rather, the distorted ceiling—for a while, stunned by the reality of his escape. And he hadn’t done it by begging at Olmer’s feet. No. He’d done it by his own will.

Now, he only had to grovel at someone else’s feet.

Karl froze, slowly raising his head to meet the gaze of his liberator—the one who freed him yet bound him to protect her. Why should he even honor that? He could easily kill her and end it.

But perhaps she was useful for other reasons. She did possess knowledge of the castle, making her an asset. Plus, she was another living being, and heaven knew he needed a shield. If the castle had taught him anything, it was that any shield was a necessity.

In the end, she had a purpose.

Forcing a smile, Karl said, “I’m strong, so I’ll protect you. But first,” he extended his hand. “The pouch.”

The woman hesitated, then placed the pouch into his outstretched hand. Karl inspected the contents, pleased to see nothing was missing.

It seemed Olmer hadn’t bothered, or perhaps viewed him as incapable of owning anything valuable. Now, at last, he had his corrosive claws.

Karl took a steadying breath and glanced at the woman. “What now?” he asked. Naturally, it would make sense to leave their current location quickly. However, he had no clear understanding of the castle’s layout and therefore lacked any real way to navigate it. If he simply left, who knew where he’d end up? He could wind up right back where he started.

The woman looked at him thoughtfully and then said, “I know a place we can go.”

A place? Karl thought, suddenly apprehensive. He had believed she’d broken free from Olmer’s control, but what if that wasn’t true? What if Olmer was merely using her to lure him into a trap? Was he being played?

As his mind began to spiral into paranoia, he forced himself to calm down. Distrust was useful, but there was a line between distrust and paranoia. His sanity could not do with another source of stress.

“Where exactly is this place that you, someone who only recently broke free, know about?” Karl asked, watching her carefully.

The woman stared at him for a moment before sighing. “First, my name’s Monica,” she said. “And second, I was only recently under Olmer’s control—not always.”

Karl frowned. He distinctly remembered her saying she wasn’t like the “freaks,” which he took to mean the mutants. But now she was implying she had survived the castle without any extraordinary abilities. She certainly didn’t appear to be part of the Mysteries school, given her lack of their attire or demeanor. So what exactly was she?

“Listen,” Monica began, “I wasn’t alone. But due to bad luck, I got separated from my group, and in...perhaps despair, I ended up succumbing to this place and got controlled.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “You have a group?”

“Yes,” Monica replied. “A man we call the Grand Helper created a small area in the castle where we can live peacefully. I was part of a group sent out to search for food. Sometimes, people newly captured by Olmer still have useful things on them.” She paused, casting a quick glance toward the hallway leading out of the room.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I saw you being dragged here by one of them, so I followed to get your pouch. But I got lost in the castle’s bizarre layout, and in that darkness, Olmer took control of me. After some time in that slumber, I woke up and had to fight my way back.”

With each of her words, Karl’s frown deepened. He was slightly irritated that she hadn’t tried to save him—though he admitted he might have done the same in her position. But more intriguing was the mention of this “Grand Helper” who had created a safe area. Who was this person? Most likely a sanguine, possibly one of the many trapped in here. There was also a chance they could be a mutant.

After a brief pause, Karl said, “Then let’s get moving.” He had plenty of questions, but staying here to answer them would almost certainly put him in danger.

They both stepped out of the cage, and Karl paused for a moment, giving the room one last look. It had been his home for a while—though not by choice, it had been his nonetheless. It was his prison, but in a strange way, it was still his.

The darkness that had once seemed terrifying now held a strange allure, almost as if it were calling out to him. Karl took a deep breath, turning to leave. But he halted again as a faint, pale silhouette faded into the shadows.

There stood Astrid, Anderson, and others. They looked at him with various expressions: some sad, some happy, some bitter, and some proud. They didn’t approach him but lingered there, ever-present—a reminder that they could appear at any time.

“Let the past stay in the past,” his friend’s voice echoed in his mind. Karl exhaled deeply and turned away, following Monica as they ventured further into the castle.

He would not leave without killing Olmer!

----------------------------------------

After being briefed on what to expect from this refuge, Karl initially felt some apprehension about meeting its residents. It wasn’t that he disliked the idea itself, but rather that his unease came from the countless days spent in captivity—chained and forced to endure people who, while appearing human, were anything but. They were puppets.

He could almost imagine meeting them only to find that Olmer had already seized control of their minds. If that happened, he’d be dragged back into the darkness, drained like a sacrificial lamb, and forced into servitude—everything he loathed.

As they moved through the pulsating darkness—a corridor that twisted in unnatural directions, sometimes upside down, sometimes split between paths that rose, descended, veered sideways, or spiraled—he tried to memorize the layout of the castle. But after hours of navigating the endless turns, he abandoned that hope.

Though he preferred the silence in which they traveled, Karl knew he should use this quiet time to gather whatever information he could about the castle. Monica, who had been lucid for a while thanks to their so-called “Grand Helper,” might have insights into how it functioned.