Tar covering a canvas. Drops hesitating on the edge of the jump into the abyss below. They had journeyed far. All the way from the top of the canvas. Their downward momentum didn’t disrupt their final rest. Drops swelled into pools as more drops made the journey. Then they descended into the void. As the pools grew, the canvas below was revealed. They couldn’t stick to it the way they desired, for the canvas rejected their essence. Another destination, another form of existence, awaited them in the direction of down. That was the best way to describe it. It felt like down, but there was no true direction. More of the canvas was revealed below the thick substance continuously flowing. When the final drop took the plunge, a groan filled the void with a rising crescendo. The now blank canvas begun flowing with color. The grays, whites, and tars, all dripped away to give way for a burning crimson red. Soon the canvas had transformed from being static to instead engulf the entirety of this seemingly infinite space in an ocean of blood and fire.

A heaving breath sounded out as Lyn was hurled into a state of wakefulness. The inferno of blood slithering like serpentine flames seeking oxygen remained a vibrant image in her mind. She coughed in a seemingly instinctual attempt at shaking the anxiousness and unrest out of her weary frame.

The cold floor slipped away from her during the shaky attempt at pulling herself to her feet and she crashed down again, smashing her forehead into the cherry red oak wood-panels she had been writhing on just a moment ago.

Her eyes filled with tears. The pain was horrible. A mind-rending pulsing pain had at some point taken root in the back of her neck, and it was currently growing. FUCK. Lyn used her own fists to relentlessly pound the back of her head over and over. Again. LEAVE. Again. GO AWAY. Again…

The pain dulled slightly after the sixth strike, and dissipated completely after the twelfth. Her own pounding fists now ached, and the back of her head was numb, but this feeling was like heaven compared to the uncontrollably spreading pain which was unmatched in intensity to anything else she had ever experienced.

Her breath steadied as she turned over and lay on her back. The cool floor helped counteract her boiling fury. Where was she. Who had taken her. What the fuck was she doing here. And, most egregiously, what or who caused the intense burning pain she had just now barely survived?

So many questions. She might not be able to find all the answers right now, but at least she could orient herself. Before bothering to stand up and consider her surroundings, she breathed deeply in through her nose. The air seemed to enter her lungs far too easily. As though she had previously been breathing through a cloth film and the film was finally lifted. Her eyes widened. Was this air still the air of the three rings? She had lived in ring three for all of her life up to this point, so that air was all she knew, but she also knew that both ring two and ring one’s atmospheres were shared with ring three. There might be an advanced air-filtration and cleaning system in this place, or maybe this place was somewhere beyond the rings… The Eye? Or someplace else?

Lyn didn’t even dare to consider the possibility of having been taken outside of the rings. That couldn’t be the case. Right? Right. The faint hope of finding herself in the Eye, the place she had dreamed of entering since she was four, was immediately extinguished when she once again considered the circumstances under which she had been taken to wherever this was. If this really was the Eye, and this was the treatment she received, then where was the paradise she had always known the Eye to be? This being the Eye was far too farfetched. The Eye could contend with heaven itself in its magnificence and in its utopian society. This being the Eye was impossible.

Other than an air-quality Lyn had previously thought mythic, she smelled a clearly unfamiliar detergent. She looked down on herself to discover that her outfit was wildly different from the regulation Education center clothes she had previously been outfitted with. She ran a hand over the fabric. It was far smoother than the coarse fabric used for the uniforms she used to wear. More than the fabric, however, it was the intensity of colors which really stood out.

Lyn had never before worn anything not consisting of the government colors: white, gray and tar. This was… purple? She had heard about this color which wasn’t exactly red, and distinguished itself from blue, so it now seemed almost instinctual to call this color purple. Or was this shade supposed to be called a different color? She had no clue. Her outfit consisted of a purple fabric wrapping her neck, shoulders, the upper part of her chest, and her arms, with a white collar sprouting up from the fabric wrapping her neck. There were also a white section at the end of each sleeve which wrapped all the way around her wrists. A white apron was interlaced on top of the purple fabric on her chest. It seemed to attempt to accentuate her non-existent breasts. The apron was sowed into the dress further down, only leaving some frills at its bottom free. The purple fabric reappeared below the frills for a decent section, before a final white section followed under and below this layer.

The top of the apron also had some frills which culminated in the middle of her chest in a strip of frills which laced the fabric downwards, splitting her chest into a right and left section. A tiny strip of purple fabric further sectioned off the top part of her chest further.

A rush of various emotions welled up in Lyn as she considered her new dress. She had never owned a proper dress before. She had seen some old pictures from history class about dresses, and some Significants were shown to have worn dresses, but a Sectorian needed efficient clothing and thus everyone wore the same outfit which included coarse black or gray pants and a long-sleeved shirt. If someone deviated from that standard, that person would become beyond miserable. Expulsion was the least of ones worries. If one is expelled from a mandatory education, then one has truly outlived ones usefulness.

On one hand, this dress was the cutest thing she had worn in her entire life. On the other hand, it was far too close-fitting and she felt squeamish at the notion of being seen in such a taboo outfit. Was she really allowed to wear it? And why were her legs so exposed? A chill ran up her spine as her bare legs touched the wooden floor. Was this real wood? Floors made out of real wood are far too extravagant. This couldn’t be her room.

Before allowing herself to consider the extravagance she realized that she might not have the luxury to take her sweet time taking it all in. Spatial orientation had to take priority. Questions of comfort couldn’t compare to the perhaps life-threatening situation she had found herself in. Everything is new. Nothing is safe. Don’t get comfortable, miss.

Looking around the room, the hazy visual impression she had garnered subconsciously while focusing on herself became clearer. The walls had a slightly lighter red hue compared to the floor, but their color was still intense. Wood-panels, wooden floors. She couldn’t imagine how expensive this entire building would have been to make.

A small window let in a stream of sunlight which hit the wall in front of her. The window was far too small for even her to get through, not to mention that it was likely around three meters from the floor. There was absolutely no way she could reach it even if she stood on the bed below it. The bed was not made out of wood, which was a first in this room.

Lyn walked over and touched the material. Some sort of plastic it seemed. It was incredibly hard. She rapt it with her knuckles, but the clear sound it gave out asserted its density. This wasn’t something she could break unless she had some sort of tool or massive leverage.

Other than the bed, the only other furniture in the room were a desk and chair. Both looked metallic, and both were bolted to the floor. The distance from the chair to the desk, however, was surprisingly perfect for her current stature. Odd. Bolted desks and chairs were usually further apart due to the average person being far larger than herself. This might have been designed specifically for her, or at least it had to be designed for someone around her own size.

She further considered the walls. Some spots on the walls there were lighter squares or circles, clearly indicating that some ornament or painting was missing. There were no screws or nails left in the walls either. At least not as far as she could tell.

After running her hand over the walls, she became even more thoughtful. These walls seemed too smooth. There were no real notches in the wood, and no splinters were loose. Was there anything else she needed to consider?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The only light source except for the tiny window was a chandelier no further down than the window. It looked like it was glass, but there was no way to reach it. Even standing on the bed and jumping at it would leave her meters from her target.

She hadn’t checked, but the bed was surely bolted down as well. This wasn’t really a bedroom after all. It was a cell. What kind of cell, with such nice walls and large bed, she had no clue, but without testing either of the room’s two doors she already knew that she wouldn’t be able to leave through either of them even if she wanted to.

She had to check all options, so she still walked up to each door – which seemed completely integrated with the rest of the wall in color – and tried using the handle. The first door didn’t budge no matter which direction she pulled or pushed.

The second door, however, actually moved. Did they forget to lock it? Surely not. These people were thorough. They had assured that no escape was available as well as assuring that no sharp objects or anything to hang herself from when she wanted to escape this cell was viable.

They weren’t thorough enough, however. It wouldn’t be difficult to create a noose out of either her own clothes or the bedsheets, and a doorhandle could be used as leverage if the impromptu rope was slung over the doorframe and hanging down on the other side. If she really wanted to end it, she still had that option. When realizing this, she was relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to withstand any torture without being able to take back her freedom and her own life with one final choice.

The door opened to a small bathroom with a single toilet, sink, mirror, and a cleanser. There were no toiletries present. Those could have been used to shape blades or other weapons and thus it was logical that they weren’t provided.

After staring closely at the mirror, Lyn realized that it wasn’t a true mirror. Its edges were rounded and curved inwards into the wall. The surface of the mirror was less reflective than normal mirrors. She used a knuckle to knock on it. It had to be some sort of polished metal. Something which couldn’t be smashed and form sharp shards.

She was already there, so she decided to relieve herself. When she was washing her hands afterwards, she observed herself for a moment in the mirror. Her skin was a dreary white color. It was as though any color had been sucked out of her face. Her sunken cheeks from a lack of good eating habits were even more pronounced due to her almost translucent skin.

She leaned in closer. Her deep hazel eyes were slightly bloodshot. When shifting her gaze downwards she considered for a moment her broken bottom lip and how the old, dried blood was mixing with the fresh. No clue when that happened. She touched the broken lip with her tongue and tasted the familiar taste of salt and iron.

There were no other marks or real blemishes on her face, but a small patch of skin on the right side of her neck had turned a shade darker. Had she been handled roughly while passed out? She stared herself straight into the eyes, and saw tears welling up in them. A small sob escaped her broken lip. She was all alone here. Her future was bleak. She had been able to remain relatively balanced because she had to properly assess her surroundings and ensure her survival, but for the first time she had the opportunity to really consider the implications of her being here.

She wondered where Trim was. Was he also in some red room like this, or was he accepted by a completely different department? She desperately hoped Trim was safe. He had to be. And he might also be one of her last hopes. If she couldn’t save herself, she needed Trim to do so. He would find a way to find her. He would take her away from all of this. She gestured frustratedly to her surroundings while continuing her inner monologue.

Her black curls fell down in front of her face as she continued attempting to suppress sobs. Whoever had captured her might have a way to observe her. She couldn’t allow herself to be broken so easily. That would make it impossible to resist.

The worries about being observed seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy as a click rang out from a mechanism in the door leading out from the bedroom. It was subsequently pushed open, the tallest woman Lyn had ever seen strode in. Her outfit was similar to her own, but instead of white mixed with purple, this lady had purple mixed with gold.

The woman carried herself with an arrogance Lyn had never observed in a Sectorian. Lyn was still facing the mirror and only observing the woman’s reflection. After quickly wiping away her tears she took some water and splashed her face to disguise any signs of weakness. Then she shook her hands and turned around with both hands clasped behind her back.

Lyn stepped out of the bathroom and stopped two meters from the tall lady. The woman was smiling and raised her eyebrows to pressure Lyn to breach the growing uneasy silence which had enveloped the room.

After Lyn had decided to assert her control of the situation, she relaxed her arms. The woman who still maintained her posture broadened her smile. She thought she had won their little confrontation. Then Lyn turned to her left and strode over to her bed. Finally, she jumped into the bed on her stomach and supported her head with her arms.

“The fuck do you want?” Significant or not, this woman had to be a part of the group which kidnapped her and were currently holding her as a prisoner. All courtesy was out the window in Lyn’s mind.

The woman didn’t answer for the longest time. Lyn assumed her abrasive behavior put her off. She likely wasn’t used to being disobeyed.

“We have to correct this behavior of yours. If you want to keep your life I’d suggest being a good little Sectorian.” She spat the last word with disgust. This woman was really not a Sectorian. A true Significant then.

“Remember the ten minutes of absolute agony you felt earlier? I’m sure you had to be writhing on the floor while wanting to die during that. That came from an implant made especially for misbehaving Sectorians such as yourself. I’ll be back in another ten minutes to give you time to consider your future behavior.”

Lyn perked up at that, but made sure the lady didn’t see her facial expression. She was supposed to have experienced that agony for a full ten minutes, but she only experienced for what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. Had she been able to somehow disable or damage it with her furious punches? She hoped so. Experiencing that pain for thirty seconds was enough for her to want to die, much less ten minutes.

She listened intently to make sure she didn’t miss any auditory clues as to when the implant was supposed to be triggered. If her behavior didn’t match up to someone in horrific pain, then her lack of pain might be found out. She’d rather not have them discover that.

At least this woman had confirmed that they had no surveillance inside of the room itself, because if they had then they would surely have reacted to her lack of reaction after the supposedly initial ten minutes of pain had been cut short.

The woman’s clacking heels disappeared slowly and the thud of a door being closed confirmed that she was once again alone. Lyn let out a large breath of relief. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped breathing for a time before the tension of that woman’s presence was released.

She continued listening, and as she had hoped there was a slight indication of the implant being activated. It wasn’t a sound, but more like a gentle touch in the nape of her neck. Luckily, despite the device receiving its orders, nothing further happened. The challenging part would be when the lady re-entered, however. She had to convince her that she had just been through ten minutes of hellish torture. Her acting skills had always been better than Trim’s, but she hadn’t had much practice. Not that she had any choice while being stuck here in this prison of red. Of blood.

After Lyn was sure that the tall woman had left, she turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. Then she took her hair into her hands and ruffled it. It transformed from a relatively orderly curly mess to a far more chaotic curly mess.

She lowered her head, and finally allowed herself to cry. She might as well put on a bit of a show to not anger that woman too much. It wouldn’t be good if she seemed completely unaffected by the torture.

While waiting for that lady to come back, she looked curiously down at her hands as though they were very interesting.

The woman returned around fifteen minutes later, with a smug smile on full display. She looked at Lyn’s pathetic state and seemed proud of herself for putting a little girl in her place.

“Lyn, I’m sure you’ll behave from now on won’t you?” She continued holding the frame Lyn had made extra tiny in her direct vision. Lyn shifted uncomfortably, stroked her left arm with her right, and looked up at the lady with tearful eyes. Lyn nodded almost imperceptibly, but the lady seemed happy.

“Use your words to express yourself. You need to become a great conversationalist if you are to get a good master.”

“I’ll behave. Master? What do you mean?” Lyn’s previous play at discomfort now turned into true discomfort. The hair on her arms rose in protest. She would never belong to anyone. Or maybe… Maybe she would be okay if it was Trim. Trim was her oldest friend, but did she want him to be more? Not that it mattered, because Sectorians weren’t allowed to have romantic relationships or even touch each other.

“All will be explained at the gathering tonight. From now on you will call me Instructor Maya. I know this situation must be strange and scary, but know that you’re in a safe place and you are serving the Eye. Never doubt that. Additionally, if you make it through the next three years, you will be made a Partial Significant. You will also have the possibility of becoming a full Significant if your master takes a fancy to you and you either carry his child or he marries you. Those matters are for the distant future, however. I originally came to explain this before you threw a fit. Well, ensure you gather yourself and look your best for tonight. It’s currently” she checked an antique pocket watch “4 pm. You will be summoned at 6 pm. I’ll take my leave for now. I hope you will enjoy your new home and that you will get along with your sisters and brothers whom you will be introduced to soon.”

After delivering the statement, Instructor Maya slipped her pocket watch back into the single pocket finely embroidered onto the beautiful dress, and then she strutted out without looking back even once. It was as though Lyn had become a robot that wasn’t given the consideration given to genuine human beings.