Round 57

Abby's breath caught in her throat as she pressed herself back against the cool wall, her wide brown eyes fixed on Jeane. The rustle of those wings unfolding was like something out of a nightmare—soft yet terrifyingly real. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to get away from this... thing that wasn't human.

But even as terror gripped her, a twisted fascination pulled at the edges of her mind. She'd never seen anything like it outside of horror movies or fairy tales. The other women in the room seemed lost in pleasure, but Abby felt only dread coiling cold and heavy in her stomach. What did Jeane want from them? Why had she singled out poor Silra?

The thought of being used like those limp bodies on the bed made Abby's stomach churn with nausea, but beneath it all pulsed a dark curiosity—a perverse fascination with the forbidden that warred against her better judgment. She needed to get out of this room before she ended up like them.

I can't just stand here, she thought frantically. I need help. Her gaze darted around the room, settling on Silra's tense form. The rogue woman seemed the only one still in possession of her senses—her hand even rested casually near a blade. Maybe... maybe Silra could protect her?

Please, Abby mouthed silently at the other woman, her eyes wide with desperate entreaty. Help me.