I felt certain that the answer to this was buried within my forgotten memories. I would never be safe until I finally left this realm which Rochere so completely controlled. The memories were coming back to me, just not fast enough. I needed more time to think, more time to recall everything that I needed to remember in order to survive.
But time was something I did not have, because before I had a chance to think any further, a severe pain in my abdomen hit from nowhere, spreading up into my stomach, cramping my insides, forcing me to double over. My heart began to pound against my chest as if demanding to escape. My skin began to pump out massive amounts of sweat. A sickness spread throughout my entire body, causing me to convulse. Incredible nausea soon followed and I knew I needed to get to the bathroom immediately. I stood up as best as I could, but no sooner had I done so than my knees buckled beneath me and I was forced instead to crawl. At the closed door, I reached up and pulled the door handle, too desperate to care if the room was occupied or not, although thankfully, I found it vacant. I scurried over to the commode, just barely making it before the sickness overtook me completely and I vomited violently. Instead of any real relief, I felt only a little less sick. I flushed and sat on the edge of the bathtub during a lull that lasted only about a minute or so, when I was hit by a desperate urge to use the toilet. Another wave of some relief followed, so I walked weakly over to the sink, trembling, and with shaking hands, splashed cold water on my face, drying off with a hand towel. Clinging to the sink for support, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was blanched, looking every bit as sick as I felt. So this was the purge that Ben had warned me to expect, the one everyone agreed wasn’t going to be that bad. Yeah, right. It felt like somebody was trying to rip out my insides. If I would have known it was going to be this hideous, I’d probably have chosen to forego the essence altogether. It was too late now, though, the deed was done and I no longer had any choice but to deal with it. My stoic acceptance had only a few seconds to mill about my brain before real regret set in and another wave of nausea hit me. Covered in a clammy, icy sweat, my legs became, once more, too weak to support me, I crawled over to the john to be sick again; this time, though, the purge lasted much longer. In my misery, I hoped the sound of so much flushing wouldn’t wake anyone in the next rooms because I just wanted to be left alone. More than that, though, I prayed that none of the three odd women would awaken tonight, because I was far too ill to be able to deal with the likes of them.
Through the course of a night that seemed to drag on without end, the sickness continued, short moments of blessed relief coming in between. I had no concept how long this torment persisted, because I’d lost all sense of time. All I knew was that it seemed to go on interminably, as always it does when one is truly ill. I tried to console myself with the fact that without the essence that had caused this purge, I would most certainly not have gotten my memories back tonight; I told myself that such a purpose alone, in and of itself, was worthy of this amount of suffering. After a while, though, even that consolation did little good as, for what seemed like an eternity, I purged in every way possible, convinced I was going to die, feeling as if my very organs were liquefying and being expelled from my body. The closest I’d ever come to being this sick before in my life was during a bout of a particularly nasty stomach flu and even that paled vastly in comparison with what I was going through now. Eventually, however, after what seemed like eons, the purging began to fade, gradually becoming less and less severe, the blessed periods in between growing longer and more restful. When the purge finally ended completely, I sat still upon the bare floor, my back supported by the tub wall, my body spent, my spirit drained in the aftermath of the violent sickness, profoundly relieved that it was finally over for good.
In my exhaustion, it was some time before I realized that I’d been resting in an awkward, contorted position up against the old, footed bathtub, and now that the purge fever was ended, I was getting cold from my icy seat on the ceramic floor. It was time for me to get up. Steeling myself against the stiffness and the usual aches with which I’d become all too familiar within the last few years, I was delighted to find that, despite the chill, I arose with an uncharacteristic ease, remarkably free of the normal groans and complaints that my body routinely made these days. I did not even sport the twinge in my neck that I was expecting as a result of my awkward head position against the lip of the tub. Other than still being quite tired, my only real complaint was that I felt far too sticky and grubby to jump back into bed without a thorough cleaning up first. My mouth was downright foul and the sweat I’d pumped out had left an uncomfortable layer of stench upon my skin that I itched to wash off. After putting down the bathmat that had been hanging on the bathtub’s side, I plugged the tub drain with its chained stopper and turned on the faucets to run a bath, only now bothering to lock both doors; I’d simply felt too ghastly before to think about such a minor detail. While the tub was filling, I grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste that Ben had left for me off of the white chest that stood by the sink and brushed my teeth, savoring its sweet flavor; I then rinsed with the wonderful, fresh water, relishing the clean taste it left in my mouth.
It was only then that the incredible dehydration of the purge’s aftermath hit me full blast. I took the glass that had been sitting alongside my toothbrush and filled it full of water from the tap, drinking deeply. The purging had left behind an unimaginable thirst, for my body was parched, dehydrated to a point beyond which I’d never experienced in my life with the sole exception of the aftermath of the ghoul attack that had forced me here. As I took in the water, I did not think it possible that any living body could be this dehydrated and still able to stand. I refilled the glass, sucking down the delicious, precious fluid as if it alone were the very substance of life itself. I drank with an animal savagery; I was a hungry, feral predator and the water was my prey. Without stopping or slowing down, I took in glass after glass, feeling the water’s life-giving qualities pulse through me, hydrating my dry, withered cells, causing an energy surge so powerful that it made me shiver in a palpable, almost sexual way. When I looked up, the bathroom mirror now threw back the reflection of a far heartier woman. Was it my imagination, or did I look a little bit younger? How silly, I thought to myself. I just looked a lot healthier because the purge was over, that was all.
By now the large tub was full, so I walked over to it, casting down the now-grubby robe I still wore from last afternoon, turned off the faucets and stepped in, lowering myself down into the warm, relaxing water and stretching out my legs as I lay back. While I lounged inside, I could tell that the dehydration of my body had not yet been fully slaked, for I could actually feel the pores of my body soaking up the liquid in which I was immersed. I slid down and dunked my head beneath the water’s surface, coming up for air when I needed and then dunking down again. I repeated this many times until my shoulders, face, neck and scalp were as thoroughly hydrated and saturated as the rest of my body. That accomplished, I reached over to the white cabinet and grabbed the bottle of soap that Ben had put out for me and began to wash with it. When it turned out to be the silkiest soap that I’d ever used, I gladly shampooed with it as well, because my hair had gotten as grimy as my skin. After having been so horribly sick, this bath had felt like a real luxury; but still, as good as it was, it was time for me to get out before I started to get pruny. I pulled the chain to release the drain plug, grabbed the shower hose which was by the faucet and gave myself a final, thorough rinsing with clean water, careful not to get any on the floor since there was no shower curtain. I stepped out onto the soft, fluffy bath mat, dried off and wrapped a fresh towel around my hair.
It was during this process that I noticed something quite unusual. When first I’d taken off my robe to enter the tub, I realized that I’d lost a quite a bit of weight since coming here. It was a nice surprise, one that had been hidden by the looseness of my garment, but not unexpected since I hadn’t eaten any solid food in days. I’
d also felt a lot lighter since the purge, as one usually does after being so sick, but I figured that the poundage that I’d lost during that ordeal was only water weight since I was so dehydrated; I’d probably gain it all back once I got enough liquid into my system again. While feeling so much thinner was a very pleasant surprise after such a horrible night, that loss was normal, not at all sufficient to the point of being shocking. It was now, though. In drying off, I noticed that I’d lost yet considerably more weight, an outrageous amount, in fact. How could it be? I’d just been in the tub taking a bath; I was only in there for maybe about thirty minutes. Estimating thirty pounds in thirty minutes was a weight loss of a pound a minute. Not only was that impossible but the changes didn’t end there, either. Everything about my body felt different. Whatever had just happened to me went a lot further than just the lack of aches and pains that I’d noticed when I’d gotten up off of the floor. I now felt more lithe, physically more comfortable and more efficient. Impossible or not, I felt much younger. I tried to explain it away by telling myself that this was just my imagination working overtime; I felt so good now simply because I’d been so terribly sick for hours on end before. Despite my denial, though, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face because I did feel fabulous, so much better than I could ever remember having felt before in my entire life. The only thing marring my fabulous buzz was the incredible thirst, leaving me to wonder just how much water it would take to satisfy my dehydration. I supposed that I would not be able to get much sleep in what was left of tonight, interrupted as it was sure to be by of all of the bathroom trips which were bound to follow drinking this much water. Even with that in mind, my thirst could not be ignored. My body was crying out for it too loudly, so I picked up the glass, which I’d left full just in case, downed it and went over to the sink for another refill. When I reached over to turn on the cold water tap, I stopped abruptly, forgetting for a moment my nagging thirst, absentmindedly placing the empty glass back down upon the cabinet.
I caught sight of a reflection in the mirror that was not my own. Rather, it hadn’t been my own for fifteen years or longer. My face was thinner, less bloated. My skin was rosy and taut, the laugh lines and the bags under my eyes almost completely gone. My first reaction was one of shock. This was harder to fathom than even the weight loss and health benefits that I’d noticed a few minutes earlier. What the hell was going on? People didn’t just grow younger and thinner by taking a bath. Was this some kind of magic, some kind of bewitchment? Of course, I realized, that was it. I must be experiencing some of the highly touted benefits of the water and essence combination. After all, Ben did mention that they had real healing powers and Robert had used the words “refine” and “beautify” in conjunction with the essence. When I’d teasingly used the phrase “magic water”, Ben had all but said that I was on the right track. I just hadn’t put two and two together before now because I had no way of knowing just how powerful these benefits would be until I actually experienced them.
Satisfied with this explanation, I looked back at the face that smiled at me from the mirror and touched my skin. I examined the reflection with care, able to do so only because, for the first time in a very long time, my near vision was perfectly clear without the use of reading glasses. With joy, I welcomed back this woman who had slowly vanished from my life over the years, who had become a virtual stranger that now made appearances only from the confines of old photographs. I was so thrilled to see her again that I could have spent hours studying her, delighting in her unexpected return, but the angry thirst cried out once more, tearing me away from my narcissistic obsession, leaving me no choice but to take my eyes off her for a few moments during the pursuit of more water consumption, a task, however, which I did not mind in the least, for this fluid had rewarded me so very generously in so many different ways. After a few more glasses of the liquid youth, even the bathroom itself seemed changed, sharp and in focus. My far eyesight, which had been extremely weak since early grade school, was now perfect. Even the Lasik surgery that I’d had a few years ago, which had improved my vision dramatically, had fallen short of the ultimate goal of perfection, leaving me still dependent upon glasses, if only just for driving. With my eye function immaculate now, I glanced around the room for several more minutes, delighting in the simple joy of being able to experience real life in high definition.
Vanity soon tugged at me again, coaxing another look back at the woman in the mirror who smiled at me with such great approval. For the first time, I saw that I wasn’t just getting younger, I was getting prettier. My slightly crooked left canine tooth was completely straight now. Not only that, but my entire bite, which had been off my entire life, had begun to correct itself. My excitement growing, yet still thirsty, I tossed back a few more glasses of water, wondering at what stage these miracles might stop, hoping they never would. I couldn’t wait to see what the rest of my body now looked like straight-on. My thirst slaked to the point at which I could leave the confines of the sink faucet for awhile, I walked over to the long mirror that I’d noticed hanging on the back of the bathroom door when I’d locked it before stepping into my bath. I took my time to savor the entirety of the new me. Completely naked save for the towel around my hair, I stared into that larger mirror, once again not believing my eyes, for not only I was thin, but my body was far more firm than it had ever been, even in my real youth. I stood in front of this full-length reflection, turning this way and that, striking poses, admiring the view, allowing myself a conceit in which I had not indulged for over a decade. These days, for more years than I cared to admit, the last thing I wanted to do was to see myself naked. Whenever I actually did sneak a peak, it led only to frustration, a disappointing reminder of the many years I’d spent battling my weight with no lasting success whatsoever. Now though, mostly within the short space of a bath, the fat that I’d been accumulating and combating for so long had simply fallen off of my body with no effort whatsoever on my part. This had to be the most incredible gift that I’d ever been given, for not only was I thin now, I was fit and toned, in better shape than I’d ever been in my life.
I began to think that the incredible claims about the essence and water which Ben and Robert had made were actually gross understatements. The fact was that, in coming here, I had accidentally stumbled upon not only the Fountain of Youth, but the Fountain of Beauty as well. Oh, this was getting more and more thrilling! I let out an excited, giddy laugh and did a little happy dance on the bathroom’s porcelain floor. Grabbing the glass once again and drinking down yet more water, this time not from thirst, but only for good measure, I was aware of my body, of only my body and of how gloriously, embarrassingly and obscenely good this liquid was causing it to feel. I stretched with a sleek deliciousness, for I had never, ever, in my entire life had a body that felt so fabulous on such a profoundly primitive level. I was as sleek as a cat now, wasn’t I? I was lovely, marvelous, totally graceful and sensuous. My every nerve felt joyous, alive and alert in a way that was totally new to me. I was completely invigorated and rejuvenated. I was new and improved. I buzzed with positive energy and my confidence level was at an all-time high. I felt bratty, I felt cocky, I felt horny. For what more could a girl ask, I wondered. I could think of absolutely nothing.
For more than half hour, I wallowed in these hedonistically sublime sensations; I was drunk with delight from them. This experience was incredible! It was fabulous! It was unreal! At one point, with strongest conviction, I felt that whatever secret this place held definitely needed be marketed. The world needed to know; the world needed access. The next moment, with just as strong conviction, I changed my mind. Why should Arrosha even bother, I asked myself. Judging by this mansion and its furnishings, she was wealthy enough already. She did not need any marketing headaches. No, this miracle was a perk that she reserved for her group. I now understood what Ben had meant when he told me that she took excellent care of her people. While still I had no intention of converting to her religion, perh
aps Ben could find a loophole that would allow me stay here without that one concession, because beliefs aside, I had to admit that I really did like the perks that came with this package. Actually, with the exceptions of Geoffrey and the three weird women, the group as a whole seemed pretty nice. Maybe over time I could get used to those women’s eccentricities, although I knew I’d never get used to Geoffrey. He was mean and arrogant and for some reason he didn’t like me at all, even though I’d done nothing to warrant his attitude. It didn’t bother me too much, though, because truth be told, I couldn’t stand him either. I had to wonder exactly how easy it would be for me to be able to avoid him on a regular basis. Within the bigger picture, he wasn’t even worth considering. He was just a jerk that I shouldn’t let spoil my fun. Besides, Ben and Illea were so very good to me that they more than made up for that little shit. Maybe I would wind up staying with the group after all, if I could. It was just a thought. I’d have to wait awhile to see how things played out before making up my mind for good.
The Nightmare Game Page 31