Unbind me

chapter 6

I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It's smooth, white, featureless, like everything else in this room. My hands itch with the need to do something—anything—but there's nothing here to distract me.

A soft knock jolts me upright.

I freeze, heart hammering in my chest as the sound echoes in the quiet. A second later, the door creaks open, and Kenji steps inside, holding a tray.

"I come bearing gifts," he says, flashing a grin.

I narrow my eyes, sitting up slowly. "What do you want?"

"Wow," he says, feigning offense. "No 'thank you, Kenji'? No 'wow, what a thoughtful guy you are'? Tough crowd."

I stay silent, watching him as he sets the tray down on the desk. It's the first time since I got here that the food looks... normal. There's bread, a bowl of what smells like soup, and a small glass of water.

He notices my hesitation and steps back, raising his hands. "Relax. It's not poisoned or anything. You can eat it."

"Why are you being nice to me?" I ask, voice sharp.

Kenji shrugs, leaning casually against the wall. "Because Warner told me to."

I bristle at the mention of Warner's name.

Kenji sighs, his playful expression fading. "Look, I get it. You don't trust me. That's fine. But you've gotta eat, okay? You're not gonna last long in here if you don't take care of yourself."

I glance at the tray, my stomach twisting with hunger. Slowly, I reach for the bread and take a small bite, watching him the entire time.

"See?" Kenji says, smiling again. "Not so bad, right?"

I don't answer, focusing on the food instead.

Kenji doesn't leave right away. He stays by the wall, watching me with an expression that's hard to read. Finally, he says, "You should get some rest. Warner's probably gonna want to talk to you again soon."

At that, my appetite vanishes.

Kenji notices the change in my expression and sighs. "Look, I'm not saying you have to like the guy. Hell, I don't even like him most of the time. But if you're smart, you'll play along. It's easier that way."

I glare at him. "Easier for who?"

"For you," he says simply. Then he straightens up and heads for the door. "I'll check on you later. Try not to wreck the place while I'm gone."

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone again.

I stare at the tray, the food half-eaten, and push it aside. My gaze drifts to the camera in the corner, the lens a constant, unblinking eye.

Kenji's words echo in my mind. Play along. It's easier that way.

Maybe he's right. Maybe it would be easier. But the thought makes my skin crawl.

I don't know what Warner wants from me, but I know this much: I won't let him win.

· · ────── · ❈ · ────── · ·

The hours stretch endlessly after Kenji leaves. I pace the room, running my hands along the smooth walls, feeling their cold, sterile texture beneath my fingers. The camera remains in the corner, silently watching. I force myself not to look at it, but it's impossible to ignore. Every step I take feels monitored, calculated, recorded.

I sit down at the desk, staring out the window at the snow falling in slow, lazy spirals. It blankets the ground, covering everything in a deceptive kind of peace. I can't remember the last time I saw snow like this—untouched, pristine. Back at the asylum, we were too far removed from any semblance of nature. Just concrete walls and locked doors.