Chapter 3

I woke up with a start, immediately sitting up. Blinking, I was surprised to find that I was in a strange, unknown room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out most of the sunlight.

In the gloom, it was difficult to make out my surroundings, but it seemed like I was in a bed chamber. The walls were made of large stone blocks, decorated with dark, Renaissance paintings.

Looking down, I realized I was sitting on a bed, the mattress much more comfortable than any other I had slept on before. The duvet that covered me was made of silk, embroidered with bright flowers all around.

I tossed it off my body and rushed out of the bed, a sense of dread washing over me.

Where was I?

How had I gotten here?

I rubbed my temples, hoping that would help me remember.

It didn’t.

I walked over to the door and pulled on the curved handle, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried again. Nothing.

A sense of profound claustrophobia wrapped around my chest, making it hard to breathe. Desperate to escape, I started to bang on the thick wood of the door until my hands were sore.

“Please! Somebody help me!” I screamed, hoping for a miracle, but no such luck came my way. “Please!” I continued, my throat growing hoarse. “I’m… I’m locked in here!” Taking a few steps back, I braced myself before I rushed the door, determined to break it down. Of course, I only managed to bruise my shoulder, my body no match for its solid construction.

“Oh God…” I started to pace around the room, running my fingers through my hair. “What the fuck do I do now?”

I noticed the window and pulled back the curtains. Getting on my tippy-toes, I looked out.

This had to be a joke.

I was fifty feet above the ground, looking down at a moat filled with water. Below me, I could make out the bottom half of what looked like a castle – the same one from my dream.

I pinched myself, hoping it would solve my problems, but unfortunately, I didn’t wake up.

Accepting that this was real and I had somehow gotten kidnapped in the night, I fumbled with the window latch, trying to pry it open. Upon closer inspection, however, I discovered it was nailed shut.

Whoever had put me here didn’t want me to get out.

“Okay… Pearl… you can make it through this…” I coached myself softly, hoping to calm down. “Just keep a level head…”

I took a few deep breaths, letting them out of my nose. As the fog subsided from my mind, I searched the room, looking for clues. Maybe they had left my bag somewhere. If I could get my hands on my knife then I could mess around with the lock.

I looked under the bed first, but all I found were some dust bunnies. I was about to get up when something caught my eye. It was small and barely noticeable in the darkness, but looking at it from the right angle made the rays of sunlight bounce off its surface in just the right way.

I shimmied under the bed, reaching out my arm as far as it could go. My fingers grazed against a fine chain.

Once I had it in the light, I discovered it was a necklace, crafted of beautiful, polished gold. The pendant was a simple cyan jewel in the shape of a teardrop.

What was something like this doing under a bed?

On impulse, I tried it on, struggling with the clasp for a moment before I heard a soft click. I tugged on the chain, just to make sure it was secure.

The pendant rested perfectly on my chest, right between my breasts, like it was always supposed to be there. I ran my fingers over the smooth surface. Heat emanated from the tiny rock.

How was that possible?

Eager to get a better look, I walked up to a Victorian style vanity, set up in the corner of the room. I sat down on the small bench like I was a princess about to get her hair done for a ball.

Looking in the mirror, my reflection almost scared me. My hair was a wild mess. My skin was covered in a thin layer of grime and dirt. Wrinkles decorated every inch of my clothes. There was a fleck of mud on my chin that I hastily wiped away, suddenly self-conscious.

Various beauty products lined the vanity, from perfume in glass spritz bottles, to large makeup brushes, and even a moisturizer that promised ‘skin like a goddess.’

Did someone live here?

I picked up a palette of blush, looking for a brand, but the little metal container was completely unmarked. It reminded me of the make up my grandma used to wear. She once told me that she had to go to a special store and get her makeup refilled. She couldn’t just go to the drug store and buy a new one.

I grabbed one of the brushes, about to dip it into the light pink color when I heard someone at the door, turning a key.