Chapter 12: 100/xxx
But here she was, in the year 155, standing in front of the restroom mirror with "CLV" written on it in jagged, red letters. The message from the spirits had been clear: serve the spirits whose names she had inscribed on the pitch, and she would be allowed to continue her search for a way out.
She had done as they asked, one by one, she had served each of the 98 spirits with her body, feeling their cold, unseen hands exploring every inch of her skin, their icy touch sending shivers down her spine. But she had been careful, oh so careful, to never let herself reach climax. She had a strategy, a plan to serve them efficiently and avoid her own release at all costs. So she had learned to control her body, to resist the pleasure that they forced upon her. She had become an expert at it, a master of self-denial.
She smirked at her reflection, "Well, Breilla," she said aloud, "you've certainly racked up quite the mileage. You're like a porn star, dressed with skimpy cowgirl outfit. And what a client list - 98 spirits and counting." She laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the empty restroom.
"Ninety-eight," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've served ninety-eight of you." But as she spoke the words, her smirk faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized that she had no idea how many more spirits were left, no idea how many more she would have to serve before she could finally escape this hellish realm. She had been so focused on her plan, on her strategy to resist the pleasure that they forced upon her, that she had never stopped to consider what would happen once she had served them all.
"What if there are more names?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "What if I've only scratched the surface of this place?" Breilla whispered to her reflection in the mirror, her voice trembling slightly. "What if there are hundreds, even thousands of names out there, waiting for me to serve them?"
Her reflection stared back at her, the red letters "CLV" mocking her from the glass. She could feel the weight of the question, the fear that it stirred within her. She had been so focused on her plan, on her strategy to resist the pleasure that the spirits forced upon her, that she had never stopped to consider the possibility that there might be more names than she could ever hope to serve.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she considered the implications of this new thought. If there were thousands of names out there, waiting for her to serve them, then she would be trapped here for centuries, maybe even longer. The thought was unbearable, a prison sentence that stretched out before her like an endless, torturous road.
Was this her fate, to be trapped in this realm serving spirits, centuries upon centuries of relentless pleasure? Was this her life now, to be reduced to nothing more than a vessel, a means of release for these vengeful entities?
The thought made her sick to her stomach. But what choice did she have? She had been trapped in this realm for so long, her will slowly whittled away until all that remained was the promise of freedom with every spirit she served.
Breilla took a moment to collect herself, taking in a deep breath before turning back to face her reflection. She knew what she had to do, what needed to be done to survive in this place. She let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging momentarily at the weight of the decision she had made.
But she knew she couldn't dwell on it for long. She had to keep moving forward, no matter how daunting the task ahead seemed. She braced herself, steeling her resolve as she turned away from the mirror and stepped out of the restroom. The cool air hit her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the stall, and she shivered slightly.
The school building loomed ahead of her, its once grand facade now marred by the passage of time and the malevolent spirits that dwelled within. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. She knew that the spirits were still out there, waiting for her, and she had to be prepared for whatever they might throw at her next.
As she approached the building, she could feel their presence, like a cold wind blowing through her mind. She gritted her teeth, determined not to let them get to her.
She had come this far, and she wasn't about to let them catch her now. She slipped into the stairwell, her heart pounding in her chest as she began to make her way up to the third floor. Each step echoing through the empty building like a gunshot. She froze, listening intently for any sign of pursuit. But all she could hear was the faint rustling of leaves outside the window.
As she reached the second floor landing, she heard it - the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing up from below. She held her breath, pressing herself against the wall as she waited for them to pass. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She closed her eyes, willing herself to blend into the shadows, to become invisible.
The footsteps faded away, as then she let out a shaky breath, her heart still pounding in her chest. She had been so close to being caught. But now was not the time for fear or hesitation. She had a mission, a purpose, and she wouldn't let anything stop her from achieving it.
With a deep breath, she continued her exploration, making her way up to the third floor. The third floor was just as desolate as the others, the air thick with dust and the scent of decay.
She moved cautiously down the hallway, her eyes darting from room to room. The first two rooms were locked. She tried the handles, but they were stiff and wouldn't budge. She sighed, knowing she'd have to find another way in. As she reached the third room, she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open, her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped inside.
The room was in shambles. The furniture was broken and scattered across the floor, as if an earthquake had hit. The windows were shattered, and the walls were covered in cracks. She could see the remnants of a fire in the corner, the charred remains of what had once been a bed. It was clear that this room had been through hell.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she might find. She knew that this place was filled with danger, with spirits that would stop at nothing to claim their revenge. But she also knew that she had to keep moving forward, no matter what obstacles lay in her path.
She had to find a way out of this realm, and she wasn't about to let anything stop her. She tried to search inside the room for any signs of names, any clues that might help her in her quest. But the room was in such disarray that it was difficult to tell what was important and what was not.
As she began to sift through the debris, she noticed something unusual beneath the remnants of the bed. She had to lift the bed to reach it, and as she did, she was surprised by how heavy it was. The movement itself made a loud noise, one that echoed through the empty room and sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She froze, listening intently for any sign that she had been heard. But all she could hear was the distant rustling of leaves outside the window.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she quickly hid inside a nearby cupboard, pressing herself into the shadows as she waited for whatever might come.
"Shit," she whispered to herself, "that was too close. I should've been more careful." She could feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to calm herself down. "What if that noise attracted something?" she thought, her mind racing with fear.
She waited, her ears straining to pick up any sound from outside the cupboard. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity as she waited for something, anything, to happen. But all she could hear was the distant rustling of leaves outside the window, and the sound of her own heart beating in her ears.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She had to get out of this cupboard and try again to take that binder. She couldn't let fear stop her now.
She slowly opened the cupboard door, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. The room was still empty, but she knew she had to be quick and quiet. She slipped out of the cupboard and made her way back to the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of the binder beneath the bed, beckoning her, daring her to take it.
As she reached down to grab it, she heard a noise from outside the room. It sounded like footsteps, and they were getting closer. She froze, her heart in her throat. She had to hide again, but she couldn't leave the binder behind.
She quickly grabbed it and darted back towards the cupboard, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. The footsteps were getting louder, closer, and she could feel the pendant around her neck vibrating, a sure sign that a spirit was near. She slipped into the cupboard just as the door to the room creaked open.
Breilla held her breath, pressing herself into the darkness as she listened to the footsteps echo through the room. She clutched the binder to her chest, her heart racing as she tried to stay silent. The footsteps stopped, and she could feel the presence of the spirit, cold and menacing, filling the room.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she waited, barely daring to breathe. After a few tense moments, the footsteps continued, but they were getting fainter, moving away from her hiding place. She let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her as she realized that she had been spared.
She waited a few more moments before cautiously opening the cupboard door and peeking out. The room was empty, the spirit having moved on. She quickly slipped out and her heart still pounding in her chest.
"Well, that was a close one," she said to herself, panting slightly. "I swear, if I keep having heart attacks like this, I'm going to die. But then again, I guess I can't actually die here, can I?" She laughed nervously, trying to calm herself down.
She looked down at the binder in her hands, a sense of accomplishment washing over her.
She had risked her life to retrieve it, and now it was finally hers. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning the pages filled with names.
Her heart raced as she turned the pages, her eyes darting from name to name. And then, she saw them - four names that she didn't recognize, four names that she hadn't inscribed on the pitch. She felt a surge of excitement, knowing that these were the names of spirits she had yet to serve.
She ran back to the pitch ground, her heart pounding with anticipation. She quickly grabbed a tree branch and began to write the names down on the ground, her hand shaking slightly with nervous energy. As she finished the last name, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. There were now 102 names inscribed on the pitch ground, each one a testament to her determination to escape this realm.
As she stood there, looking at the names, she felt a sudden chill run down her spine. She turned around, her eyes scanning the empty field for any sign of danger.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She knew that she had to be careful, that she couldn't let her excitement get the better of her.