Curled up on the ground was a body - you. You were tossing around back and forth underneath the moonlight that sprung from the window. Your entire form shivering and strands of hair sticking onto your damp forehead, you were burning up. It was most likely a fever, but even so, you couldn't treat it. Stepmother had locked the medicine away in a cabinet... and you knew that even if you went to her for help, she'd leave you to suffer anyway.

Maybe that minor headache you had yesterday really was something after all. It was good Blaise forced you to return home after that incident, because no doubt this fever would get worse had you stayed under the sun for a few more hours.

It wasn't anyone's fault nor yours that you've turned sick, but you couldn't help and grow angry at yourself. You didn't have time to fall weak, not when the ball is nearing everyday and you still had loads to do to convince your family in letting you attend. Why now of all times? For years you've avoided getting sick, but just when you truly needed all the strength you could have, reality had to hit you with a boulder. Your luck was always bad, but this had been a punch to the gut.

These thoughts poked at you and you knew you had to do something about it. It wasn't like you were able to rest peacefully in this state either. So though you felt terribly ill, you decided to use the time wisely. Groggily pushing yourself up from the mat, your tired bones made way to the other side of the room. Pulling out the familiar mannequin that hid in the pile of junk, your pink gown was still in progress. Still, you were patient and knew that in due time, it will be perfect enough for you to wear. It wasn't going to be the flashiest or the most expensive-looking, but it was going to be a piece of you - something to make you feel as pretty and regal as a queen.

With shaky hands, you began to work on the dress again, your features twisting up in concentration and your lips pursing. Clenching onto the pins, your vision turned woozy, but you proceeded with a determined face. Weaving the cloth and adding volume to the skirts at the bottom, you bent over to wrap the fabric around. That was not too good of an idea, for your unstable feet had tipped over, causing you to collapse forward onto the mannequin. You crashed onto the hard, cold ground, your arms hugging the mannequin. Limbs sore from the impact, you didn't bother to stand up. It was time to give up. Laying there with shivers that wouldn't cease, you clamped your eyes shut.

The first thing you saw was a musty, tiled ceiling.

The next thing you noticed was the feeling of a freezing, metallic table underneath you. Turning your head both ways, you realized you were strapped and tied tightly to the table, your wrists already been bounded firmly. You squinted at them to see they were made out of leather. In terms of clothes, the reason you could feel the burning cold sensation of the table was because you were wearing a navy blue paper gown - the type of cover-up that people at hospitals would wear. Laying on a table in the middle of a gray, narrow room, it was obvious that you shouldn't be here. Something bad was going to happen to you.

Pulling your arms from your newly discovered shackles with all your might, by the time you were panting in exhaustion, you still weren't free from them. What was this? Where were you? Who had done this to you?

Pounding footsteps entered the empty, lifeless room. A surge of people in unidentifiable masks that wore white lab coats walked up to you. Holding up syringes with liquid inside that were all sorts of colors - ranging from red to clear to green - the sharp, pointy, steel tips began to near you.

You tried to let out a scream... but it was as if you were underwater. No noise or words were coming out of your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to gain the attention of other people. But what other people? As far as you knew, you were trapped somewhere far from the public eye, meaning there was no chance to retrieve help. Even if you could scream, the same fate would be met. You were helpless.

The syringes plunged into every part of your skin, leaving you writhing at the thousands of needles that entered your system. It was no use because the binds kept you there. As the mysterious fluids filled your bloodstream to the point where you were about to burst, the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness washed over you. One by one, the metal needles evaporated from your body. When the last one finally disappeared, your head slumped to your chest. You succumbed to the unconsciousness.

Peeling your eyes opened, you could see you were no longer in that small chamber. You weren't even strapped in anymore. Instead, you were laying on a stage in a room that was tall, wide, and magnificent. Standing up, you got a better view of the place. It was an auditorium. A golden-brown stage that was coated with no imperfections, you were planted right on it. Red curtains accompanied at the sides, swooshing elegantly. Multiple chandeliers hung above, their crystals reflecting an amber glow upon everything that resided here. Velvet, crimson seats framed the audience's view of the stage. And no... the seats were not empty. The room was full of people - people who were all wearing fancy masquerade masks and formal attire.

Your legs moved to the front of the stage, but your body wasn't in your control. In sheer horror, you looked down to see that there were strings that were ingrained into your limbs. You glanced at your hands to see the same had happened to them.

You were a puppet. You were shackled, but in a different and more cruel way.

The body having a mind of its own, you began to start dancing. Feet twirling and jumping in a graceful way that was so unlike yours, you were making art. Despite being so graceful, the strings that latched onto you pushed and pulled, making you slip and fall countless of times. Bruising your legs and slamming your head against the smooth stage, you were soon bleeding. Blood dripped down from your head, ruining the perfect bun that [h/c] hair was stuffed into. Sticky, warm liquid also oozed from your knees, marring the floor with its staining color.

The perfect stage was of no more. It was now looking like a bloodbath.

The sound of mocking laughter erupted from the audience. Food, drinks, and items were thrown at you, drowning you with them and dirtying you up from head to toe. You were even wearing a white dress, so the beautiful cloth that was already tinged with blood had quickly been replaced by a disgusting brown.

Nonetheless, you wouldn't stop dancing. Your steps didn't falter when the audience unmasked themselves to you, staring at you with sneering faces. Most of the people you didn't recognize... but for the ones who you did recognize, it was a stab to your heart. Sitting there in the front row was stepmother, Rosa, Delphine, Aziel, Ira, Blaise, and Veria. Their eyes eating your mistakes up like a hungry pack of wolves, they were the ones who threw and leered the most at you.

For some reason, you could speak this time around. Looking up with tear-strewn eyes, you begged at the darkness that clenched at your strings. "Please. Let me go. I'm not the one you want."

The mysterious fog whispered back to you, its voice low and hoarse. "Oh? But you are."

"W-why me?" you cried out. In the middle of your dance, you were flipped into the air, only to land on your back. The impact was a hard one, knocking the air out of you. Coughing out spittles of blood, it rolled down from your mouth, coloring your lips like lipstick.

"I sense it: the darkness inside of you, coiling up at the center and waiting for it to be set loose. You've sensed it too, haven't you?" it said softly, floating down to your broken body. Darkness? That was not true... your father had always taught you to be kind, to which you lived by. You shook your head at its conclusion; this monster was wrong. A blackened hand with long talons appeared from the thickened fog, stretching out towards you. Grasping your chin tightly, it lifted your head up and the voice echoed into your ears. "My, my, don't go denying it. We can both see it unfurl each time you encounter anyone better off than you... including your stepsisters... and that girl... Ira."

"I'm not jealous!" you yelled out. It was louder than you intended it to be and it filled the whole auditorium.

The darkness laughed - it laughed so hard that chills ran through your entire being. "You basically just admitted it. This green, ugly color and desperation shall be quite fitting for me. I will be seeing you soon then, [Y/N] [L/N]."

A strong current of wind blew into the large room. The darkness had flown right through you, engulfing you to trap you in its cell forever.

Waking up, you leaned forward and nearly hit the coat-hanger mannequin that laid strayed beside you. Before you could feel relieved with it being just a nightmare, you gasped out in agony. It was as if you were set on fire.