Soft, enchanting strings filled her ears as she approached the heart of the castle. Burgundy velvet spiraled up the golden staircase, creating a path for her to follow. It was the most stunning and elegant place she had ever encountered.

​

If only it were real.

​

​Gently resting her hand along the railing, she felt several pricks as her hand glided against rough, jagged wood where polished marble should have been. It had been a week since entering this fabricated palace of beauty. A week since she had been taken from her home. A week since she could even remember what life was like a week ago.

​

She forced herself to take another step up the staircase, breathing in slowly. There were flashes before this—of places, faces, voices—but none were tangible enough for her memory to grasp any meaning. All she knew was that there was a time before this. Before him.

​

She took another breath, another step, the pounding in her head flaring. Reaching instinctively to the back of her head, she felt something smooth and cool to the touch. Her fingertips recoiled, stifling the gasp that came every time. If she had reached only slightly further down, she would’ve found the circular metal piece that made her insides howl and throb in agony. A matching piece rested only a few inches to the right of it. The first time she had simply tapped one of these pieces, she had passed out from a buzzing eruption throughout her skull. Goosebumps shot up her arms at the memory.

 

After she had first awoken here, she had discovered her entire body was covered in that strange, smooth material. Only her hands had remained free. Free to discern the reality beyond what her eyes had been presented with. Another heavy breath escaped her as she continued up the endless staircase.

​

A grand window rested at the top of the stairs; navy silk draped across it. The glass was tinted, but if she squinted enough, she could just make out fuzzy blocks.

​

​ “Welcome, darling,” a soothing yet unsavory voice buzzed in her ears. She flinched as a towering figure pixelated in front of her. Adam.

​

He had amber locks that fell to his shoulders, neatly tucked behind his ears. He grinned widely at her. All his features seemed to glow perfectly, yet something in her body shivered. The curve of his nose, the pearl white teeth, the round and glowing blue eyes, and the overarching precision and perfection of his features felt wrong. Unnatural.

​

“Oh, my dear Mei, relax, smile! We’re feasting. It’s a day of celebration,” he cooed.

​

Mei. She frowned even further, her stomach churning at the sound. Mei was what Adam claimed her name was. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t true, just as she knew none of this was real.

​

Adam extended his hand out to her, but she merely stared at him with dull eyes. There was a moment of silence between them before rough, meaty hands tightly pulled her up the stairs.

​

“I’ve prepared all of your favorites, darling. From cheese souffle to the best pies you could only dream of!”

​

Keeping his grip on her hand, Adam guided her down a wide hallway. The ceiling, full of intricate floral patterns, stretched higher than she thought possible. Dozens of silver sets of armor with gold trims lined up before them, each holding a single, lanky ax that shimmered against the candlelight. Their closed helmets had several bright red feathers puffing out at the top. With her free hand, she carefully stretched her fingers up toward the axes.

​

Anticipating the sharp impact, she almost tripped, searching for an emptiness her fingertips had already known. Adam remained silent, keeping his gaze ahead.

​

They turned into another hallway, full of paintings, sculptures, and various decor brightening up the space. One painting was of a massive castle, its towers capped in salmon pink with flags thrashing against the wind; several spruce trees crowded around the edges. They passed a sculpture of the goddess, Iris, with candles interwoven throughout her polished golden wings. She gasped at the detail of it, the lack of fuzzy squares when squinting. There was something oddly familiar about it too, the back of her head flared in agreement.

​

“Beautiful, isn’t it? I’m not surprised the piece caught your attention. My mother obsessed over trinkets of the rainbow goddess. She used to grow irises in our front yard. Frivolous, hmm?”

​

Adam’s grip around her fingers grew tighter, numbness starting to creep in. She yelped softly.

​

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice raw and hoarse.

​

“Ah, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? Anyone would love to spend their life here; you too will learn to love it soon enough.” Adam’s smile grew even wider when the corners of his lips suddenly grew distorted, the pixels flashing a pale wrinkled grin. She blinked, and the elegant smile returned. A layer of sticky sweat began to build up around her hands.

​

“Here we are, my dear.” Past a golden, arched doorway, was the dining room. It was just as grand and extravagant as she had imagined. A silk, violet tablecloth with golden swirls bordering its edges rested over a long table in the center of the room. A plethora of dishes covered its surface—beef ragout, souffles, cakes, and pies, even a fountain pouring out a bright pink liquid. Her stomach growled with anticipation. Doubts began swarming her mind, but Mei pushed them away. She desperately wanted to devour the feast before her.

​

As Adam escorted her to a chair on the opposite end of the table, she could just make out a small teacup inch slightly closer to them. Adam let out a brief chuckle.

​

“Worry not, my dear Mei. Sometimes the dishes have a mind of their own.”

​

Nodding, she tried her best not to squirm against the bumpy and wobbly seat where cushions should be. Instead, Mei breathed in the aromas of sugars and sweets flooding through her nose. Near the center of the table rested a candelabra made entirely of gold, its body resembling that of a human. She cocked her head at the sight.

​

“This will be an awkward evening if you do not speak, darling. Whatever is on your mind?” Adam asked, gesturing toward her.

​

“Is that...” She started, motioning toward the candelabra.

​

“Is that?” He followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. Another favorite of my collection. You have an eye for the arts. It won’t move when you’re not looking, if that was your question.”

​

All she could do was nod.

​

Two figures suddenly appeared at the door, their bodies mere silhouettes of white. They contained no facial features, no articles of clothing, nothing to distinguish them as people beyond the shape of their figures. An unsettling wave of nerves flooded her stomach. Who were they? They both held their hands behind their back, waiting.

​

“Tea. And for you, my darling?”

​

“Um. Water, please,” she stuttered, unsure if the answer was acceptable for him. He smiled, waving away the silhouettes.

​

The figures bowed stiffly before leaving Adam and her alone again. Were they real? Who was behind those white shadows? She yearned to reach out and discern what her eyes had seen. She had assumed she was alone in this palace of mimicry.

​

Turning her attention back to the feast, both of Mei’s eyes widened in excitement. Adam kept his gaze on her expectantly. She reached out for a slice of blueberry pie, ignoring all of her skeptical thoughts. It would taste amazing. It would melt on her tongue. Mei couldn’t wait and fiercely brought the fork to her mouth.​

 

As soon as her tongue met the pie, she regretted ignoring that voice. Instead of sweet, sugary perfection, something tough and rubbery accosted her. What was in her mouth? She desperately tried to spit it out, but an invisible force blocked her lips. Gagging, she felt the pounding in the back of her head grow. All she wanted was to throw up.

​

Both of her eyes burned at Adam. How dare he allow her to put something so vile in her mouth? Panic began to overwhelm her thoughts. How could she eat this? A knot burned in her chest before she was forced to swallow the unnatural, chewy object. She could feel its soggy edges bump against her throat as it ever so slowly descended. A storm of coughs overtook her, and she stumbled out of her chair.

​

“Whatever is the matter, darling?”

​

One of the silhouettes returned, pushing a silver cart with a glass of water and tea. Parts of her vision were beginning to blur, her chest heaving for breath. The figure walked to her, kneeling down as she continued coughing.

​

“Drink,” the voice demanded. It was soft and faint, barely discernible. The silhouette extended the glass of water, and Mei obeyed. Extending out her trembling hand, her fingers grasped the cup, brushing against something soft. Her eyes saw nothing but the clear glass.
While she downed the water, grateful for its familiar taste, her fingers rubbed against a velvety, oval-shaped object. A flower petal? She glanced back at Adam, but his relaxed brows and thin mouth revealed nothing. As she searched his beautiful blue eyes, she felt her eyelids grow heavy. Blinking away the darkness, she eventually caved and let her mind slip away, those bright, lifeless eyes still staring.

​

​

​

​

Adam took her to the dining hall often after that day. At first, she tried to throw up whatever was forced down her throat, but her body slowly stopped obeying her. Mei mastered ignoring that disbelieving voice. She let herself welcome the distorted reality. Beef ragout became slimy and cold. Cheese souffles were bitter and chewy. Wine made her lips burn. They had always tasted that way---an acquired taste.

​

Waking up slowly became easier and easier. She answered Adam’s endless questions without hesitation. She took bite after bite.

​

Sometimes, she saw those blank shadows of people walk through the halls. Adam instructed her never to speak to them. So, she didn’t. But she always listened. They spoke in hushed tones, and she often wondered if that too was imaginary.

​

One night, while resting in her bed, she saw two thin, shadow fingers slip under the door before sliding away. A voice muffled from behind. All her eyes could see was the polished marble flooring, but her fingers knew better. She reached for the space in front of the door, finding that same soft and velvety petal.

​

“Hello?” She called out, startled at the courage in her voice. She pulled open the door, finding the hallway eerily empty. Who was giving her these petals? The back of her head throbbed the more she tried to think. Grabbing the petal, she decided to return to her room.

​

She kept the petal on a small end table beside her bed. She held it whenever she could, as it grew thinner and thinner. It became a constant reminder of what was real. Several nights after discovering it, she decided to explore the castle for any answers to its gifter. Using her fingertips to guide her, she tried to discern what her eyes saw. The walls and floors were rugged layers of wood. Only a void of space rested where the suits of armor should have been. Even the paintings on the walls were nonexistent.

​

Some nights turned into every night of exploring. Whether Adam was aware of her nightly journeys or not, he said nothing.

​

The only statue her eyes saw and her fingertips felt was the Iris. She could even feel the soft wax of the candlesticks along her wings. Iris was the goddess of the rainbow, but why was it here? She avoided it at first. It made the back of her skull flare with pain. But as the petal continued to wither away, she always found her way back. Adam had mentioned his mother loved the goddess. Did she purchase the statue? He had said she even used to grow irises… She whipped her head back at the figure.

​

With newfound energy, she let her fingertips feel throughout the statue. Both of her eyes widened as she felt another velvety petal attached to something small but heavy within the statue’s palm. It was rough with jagged edges along one side. A gasp escaped her. A key? She quickly hurried back to her room, tightly gripping the petal key.

​

Despite her mind aching, several thoughts overwhelmed her consciousness. Where did the key lead? Was there a way out of here? Was it truly possible?

 

The next night she hurried through the hallways, as quietly as she could manage, desperately seeking an indentation in the wall, a slit that could fit her key. Splinters and cuts overwhelmed her fingers as they too grew rough and calloused. It was easy to ignore that pain, though.

​

The petal eventually deteriorated, crumbling in her palm. She continued her search with even more intensity. The moments with Adam, the dinners, everything was becoming once again unbearable. All she could think of was escaping the beautiful nightmare.

​

It wasn’t until she investigated the glass window above the grand staircase did her fingers pass over a small slit in the wall. Both of her hands started to shake. Was…was this it? She held her breath as her trembling fingers pushed the key into the slit. Perfect. She gripped the key, her body unable to move. The beating of her heart overwhelmed her ears. Could this truly be the way
out? The pain in her head throbbed, and the weight of her suit grew heavier. Would there be a life waiting for her away from this

​

Like she had been conditioned to do, Mei pushed all of these thoughts and doubts away. She turned the key. A faint click. She pushed and the invisible door pushed forward. Even still, her eyes could only see the tinted windows.

​

Mei glanced one last time at the beautiful facade part of her had grown to love, before stepping out of the illusion.

​

Flickering lights instantly overwhelmed her eyesight, colors of all shades rapidly flashing. She took another step forward before crumbling to her knees, the back of her head pulsating in agony. Shutting her eyes tight, she used her rugged fingertips to search the floor.
​
It was the same splintered wooden flooring. Something in her chest rattled. Where was she?

​

Mei opened her eyes. Dozens of paintings on all sides surrounded her. They were of a girl with warm, auburn curls tied back and a swooping, gold ball gown sprawled out on the ground. Squinting her eyes, Mei found the girl squinting back, mimicking her own movements. She realized it wasn’t a painting at all, but herself. The same face. She shrank back in terror, of the Iris statue.

​

She reached for one of the mirrors, begging for another door, another petal, clue, anything. There wasn’t the same rugged, splinter-inducing wood she had grown familiar with or the soft velvet of the petal. It was empty, an invisible barrier, a void. She screamed, the agony in her head spreading throughout her entire body.

​

The edges of her gown began deteriorating into pixels, revealing a white shadow creeping up her legs. Mei screamed again, but her body remained rooted in place, suspended in horror. She could only watch with wide eyes as the shadow rose over her stomach, crawling along her arms and fingertips, before burying the Iris’ face into a white silhouette.