The Veil

Cold. Damp. Soft. A flawless cheek pressed against the forest soil. The sensation was strange. Unfamiliar. Her fingers curled in to the dirt, eyes fluttering open in vague confusion. A clump of brown material lift in the air and slowly sift through her fingers. Her body moved in a lithe, controlled, almost unearthly smooth motion as she sat up. The veil pinned in her hair moved with her. Lace and silk leaving a soft caress against her skin. Once on her feet, the show of perfect wavered. Her knees wobbled. The first step she took had her balance teetering. Even her hands shook. No, her whole body was shivering. Exposed to the chill midnight wind.

Bright light. Blinding. She turned her head away, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

“There she is. In one piece, too. Bring the crate.”

“I can’t find the Khloe model. We’re gonna get our asses handed to u-“

“Relax, they’ve insurance for shit like this. We’ll just report it stolen.”

She didn’t understand the words, not really. But she was conditioned. The box was hers and she belonged in it. Despite lingering stares, she accepted the hand that helped her step back in to the box. Lying back without a word while the branded lid was closed over her.

Genetic Bride Alese Model 021

There was the cold again. Ice prickling, stinging. Now she remembered. She hated the cold. Yet it never lasted for long. Her eyes fell closed to the sound of high pitched beeping and the gentle sway of the crate being moved.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.