.silver.
✨experiencing autistic burnout✨
She wasn't sure how long she had been here. A year, maybe? Or just a few months? It was hard to tell. The days blurred together and sunlight was inconsistent and rare. She was tired. When those things came, many people saw them as merciful. They only took adults. The theory was that since your brain was fully developed at 25, it gave more to work with. But Achaia couldn't see this as merciful at all. They were creepy-looking anyways, like giant black cartoonish brains with long tendrils like jellyfish, looming low in the sky.
At first, she thought if she stayed alive she could prevent others from having to take her place. If those things were kept busy and entertained (because why else would they be doing this??), maybe they wouldn't need to steal more humans. At this point, however, it seemed like her captors wanted her alive for as long as possible. How many more people were here? She had seen glimpses of individuals in the distance, but she could never be sure if they were a hallucination for (or of) false hope.
Regardless, Achaia was ready to stop trying. What would happen if she didn't fight it? She had been searching for a way out for weeks and weeks and weeks. Months. But was there even a way out? It was hard to tell what was real anymore. Doors only led to food, a nightmare, or a place to sleep. She had yet to find one that led out. She had even tried digging her way out once, but it was pointless. Just last week(?), Achaia had felt a sense of confidence and commitment to finally cracking the code and freeing herself. But now, Achaia decided to accept that she would be here for life. It's not like she had much to go back to, anyways. Many people had been separated since this whole thing began. Some went into hiding, some tried to travel overseas. Not like it was any use. Those things could probably still find them. Maybe those who managed to make it off the continent were safe, if they could even make it a few miles from shore.
In any case, now that Achaia was awake, it wouldn't be long until she'd have the opportunity to find food. That was the only "mercy," she guessed. At least she could eat. Achaia rolled over and came face-to-face with an appetizing plate of french toast, hash browns, and eggs. By the time she had reached out for the food and brought it closer to her, it had become a simple granola bar. Achaia sighed, ate, drank a bit of the water on the nightstand, and sunk back into the shadowed tendrils that had begun to replace her bed. The pressure of the demon forced her breath to shallow, but Achaia willed her body to relax. Let it happen, she told herself. Save your energy for the harder stuff. And with that, her head dropped back and everything went dark.