So, four ways in and zero faucet handles, knobs, or switches in sight.
Great.
Turning back to the main area of the room, I make my way over to one of the large mirrors and take a good look at myself. I honestly hadn’t meant to look, but now that I have, I’m almost shocked by how wretched I look.
I know I shouldn’t be surprised after everything I’ve been through, but I am.
My eyes are sunken and dull, my face ashen and my hair limp and bedraggled. If I didn’t know I was alive, I’d almost swear I’d just been brought back from the dead.
Although, in a way, perhaps I was.
I grimace as I turn to look at the back of the corset, only to realize just how bruised and beaten the rest of my body is, too. Reaching for the knot, I struggle to undo the lacings, but finally manage it in the end, after more than a little internal screaming.
As I pull off the corset and ruined underwear, my eyes trail over my naked reflection in the mirror. I can hardly recognize myself.
The corset obviously did me no favors as I gaze at the deep, purpling marks that litter the back and sides of my body.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice them before. Even now, as I gently run a finger over a rather large one on my shoulder, I flinch.
I suppose adrenaline must have played some part.
Oh, and maybe a bit of forced paralysis.
I grit my teeth at this thought and turn away from the mirror.
There’s nothing I can do about them now. I might as well try to clean myself up before Valentine has the chance to order someone else to do it for me.
Tentatively making my way toward the shower, I once again poke my head in to glance around the room for something to turn the water on, but find nothing. Stepping further into the open space, the room suddenly lights up with a warm golden glow that slowly fades to a calming lilac.
At least, I think it’s supposed to be calming, but my heart’s sudden pounding has me more on edge than ever.
I spin around as if expecting to be attacked any moment, only nothing of the sort happens. Instead, a soft floral-scented mist begins filling the room. Surprisingly, this does help pull me back from the edge as I breathe it in.
After a good thirty seconds of this, the mist dissipates as a gentle rain begins to fall down around me. Even the temperature of the water is exactly the way I like it.
I allow myself a few blissful seconds of respite to close my eyes until a soft chime has me looking over my shoulder to see a backlit panel in the wall open up.
Walking over to it, I find a razor, a deliciously scented body wash, and matching set of shampoo and conditioner … and, perhaps most surprising of all, they seem to be exactly what my poor frazzled hair and body need.
So, this is what people must have thought the future would be like. Smart showers and all.
Part of me doesn’t want to believe it’s even real, but I have to shut this down. After all, if this isn’t a smart shower, then Idefinitelydon’t want to imagine what the alternative is.
Of course, tryingnotto imagine something is as good as inviting it in with welcome arms, and I can’t help but glance around the room in search of hidden cameras. Not finding any, though I suspect they wouldn’t be that easy to find in the first place, I quickly take the bathing items and begin to wash.
Almost as soon as I begin lathering the shampoo through my hair, my worries are pushed to the furthest corners of my mind. I take a deep breath in, allowing the warm, sweet scents to flood my lungs as the water shifts around me to keep the suds from running down into my eyes and nose.
My body relaxes, the tension of the past few hours, days, and weeks rolling off my shoulders in heavy waves.
I could stay in here forever.
Almost as soon as I think this, the water starts to grow cold, jolting me back to reality.
Okay, fine, notforever.
Immediately, the water warms again.
I quickly finish shampooing my hair, putting a generous amount of conditioner through the lengths before soaping up my legs with the bodywash.