Flipping Through the Pages
Copyright© 2026 by Dragonpig
Chapter 46
Selina’s eyelids fluttered open, heavy and uncooperative, like they’d been glued shut. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and her mouth tasted like cotton soaked in chemicals. The world came into focus slowly: stark white walls, fluorescent lights humming overhead, and the faint scent of industrial cleaner mixed with something sweeter, almost floral. She was lying on a thin mattress, a bunk bed above her casting a shadow. Not the streets, not the warehouse with 47. Somewhere else. Somewhere different.
She bolted upright—or tried to. Her limbs felt leaden, the drug still lingering in her system. Gladys, she remembered. The diner, the Coke, the dizziness. That grandmotherly smile hiding something dangerous. Selina’s hand instinctively went to her ear, feeling for the tiny communicator. It was still there, hidden beneath her hair.
“You’re finally awake.” The voice was soft, almost too friendly, coming from a young Asian girl perched on the edge of the lower bunk across from her. She looked about fourteen, with dark black hair tied back in a ponytail and eyes that seemed too wide, too eager. She wore simple clothes—a plain t-shirt and shorts—like everyone else Selina could glimpse in the room.
Selina rubbed her temples, playing up the confusion. “Where ... am I?”
The girl smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “They call it the Wonderland. Don’t worry, everyone wakes up like this at first. I’m Bethany. You’ve been out for a few hours. They said you were pretty out of it when you were brought in.”
Gladys. Selina filed that away, her mind sharpening despite the fog. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, testing her balance. The room held maybe a dozen bunks, some occupied by girls whispering or staring blankly at the walls. No windows, just vents humming with recycled air. “The Wonderland? What is this place?”
Bethany leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s home now. For girls like us—no family, no place to go. They take care of us here. Food, beds, even some fun if you play nice. But it takes time to adjust. I can help you learn the ropes, if you want.”
Selina eyed her warily. Bethany’s helpfulness felt rehearsed, like a script she’d run through before. But playing along was the only move right now. “Yeah. Thanks. I could use that.”
Bethany led her down a narrow hallway, the floors tiled and spotless, echoing with their footsteps. Cameras blinked from every corner, red lights steady and unblinking. A guard—big guy, bored expression—nodded at them as they passed, his eyes lingering a second too long on Selina. She suppressed a shiver, focusing on mapping the layout. Doors with keypads, stairwells branching off, the faint hum of activity below.
“First tip,” Bethany said, gesturing vaguely, “don’t talk too much, especially not to the new girls until you know who’s who. Follow the rules—they’re simple. Eat when they say, work when they say, and you’ll be fine.”
“Work?” Selina asked, keeping her tone naive.
Bethany waved a hand. “You’ll see. Some girls get better treatment if they know how to behave. Nicer rooms, better food. It’s all about being smart.” She paused at a bathroom door, pushing it open to reveal communal showers and sinks. “Clean up here whenever. Just don’t hog the hot water.”
Selina nodded, her eyes darting to the mirrors—no obvious two-way glass, but she wouldn’t bet against it. “I should probably ... You know. Use the facilities. That stuff they gave me really messed with my system.”
“Go ahead,” Bethany said, settling onto a bench near the sinks. “I’ll wait out here.”
Selina entered one of the stalls, her heart hammering as she closed the door behind her. The moment she was alone, she touched the tiny communicator in her ear, speaking in the barest whisper.
“47, can you hear me?”
His voice came through immediately, clear despite the microscopic speaker. “Selina. Thank God. I’ve been monitoring your vitals—your heart rate spiked when you woke up. Are you injured?”
“No, just drugged. Some kind of sedative in my drink at the diner.” She kept her voice barely audible, one ear listening for Bethany’s movements outside. “I’m inside the facility. They call it ‘the Wonderland.’ It’s bigger than we thought—multiple floors, lots of girls.”
“I have two surveillance drones positioned outside the building. Four-story structure, heavy security, but I’m tracking the patrol patterns.” 47’s tone was professionally calm, but she could hear the underlying tension. “The building’s shielded against most electronic surveillance, so I can’t get visual inside. You’re my eyes in there.”
“Got it. The girl showing me around—Bethany—she’s fishing for information. I haven’t seen Tammy yet, but I’ll keep looking.”
“Good. Focus on gathering intelligence. I need building schematics, guard rotations, any security weaknesses you can identify. When you’re ready to move, just say the word and I’ll coordinate extraction.”
“How long do I have?”
“As long as you need, but don’t take unnecessary risks. If your cover gets blown or you’re in immediate danger, abort immediately. Your safety comes first.”
The familiar weight of his confidence settled around her like armor. “I’ll be careful. Going dark for now—my guide’s getting suspicious.”
“Copy. I’ll be monitoring.”
Selina flushed the toilet for show and emerged from the stall, washing her hands while Bethany watched her in the mirror.
“Feeling better?” Bethany asked, her eyes slightly narrowed.
“Much. Thanks for waiting.” Selina dried her hands, noting how Bethany’s expression had shifted—still friendly, but more calculating. “So what’s next on the tour?”
They moved to a common room next, a space with worn couches and a TV bolted to the wall, playing some mindless sitcom on loop. A few girls lounged there, eyes glazed, not really watching. One looked up, assessed Selina with a flicker of pity, then looked away.
“Second tip,” Bethany continued, “stay out of trouble. Alice doesn’t like drama. Jarvis even less.”
Selina stored that away, her suspicion growing. Bethany wasn’t just helpful—maybe too helpful.
The cafeteria smelled of institutional food—overcooked pasta and canned sauce—but it was food, and Selina’s stomach growled despite herself. Girls lined up with trays, chatting in low tones, the guards patrolling the edges like shepherds watching their flock.
Bethany guided her to a table near the back. “Grab what you want. It’s not gourmet, but it’s free.”
Selina loaded her tray mechanically, her eyes scanning the room. And then she saw her: Tammy, at a table set apart like some VIP section. She looked different—healthier, her reddish-blonde hair styled, wearing a nicer dress than the standard-issue stuff. Sitting right between a man in his thirties with slicked-back hair and a sharp suit—Jarvis, had to be—and a blonde woman with a predatory smile, Alice. Tammy laughed at something Jarvis said, her hand on his arm, looking ... comfortable. Happy, even.
Selina’s gut twisted. Tammy caught her eye for a split second, but her expression didn’t change. No recognition, no plea for help. Just a blank glance before turning back to Jarvis.
Bethany followed her stare and smirked. “That’s Tammy. Jarvis’s current favorite. Been here a bit, but she’s smart—figured out how to play the game quick. Gets all the perks: better clothes, private time upstairs. If you want that, you gotta be like her.”
There was longing in Bethany’s voice, sharp and unhidden. “Smart about things, huh?” Selina muttered, forcing herself to look away.
“Yeah. Being nice to the right people.” Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “But favorites don’t last forever.”
Selina felt a punch of nausea that had nothing to do with the drugs. Was Tammy really one of them now? Broken, or worse—adapted?
The rest of the afternoon blurred together in a haze of orientation. Bethany showed her the library—a small room with donated paperbacks and magazines, heavily monitored. The recreation room where girls played cards or board games under the watchful eyes of guards. The TV lounge where reality shows played endlessly, keeping the girls passive and distracted.
Everywhere they went, Selina catalogued details: camera positions, guard stations, fire exits that were probably locked. The building’s layout was more complex than she’d expected—multiple floors connected by secure stairwells, each requiring keycard access. Getting out wouldn’t be simple.
By evening, most of the girls had dispersed to various activities. Some were in the common room watching TV, others had claimed spots in the library with books they probably couldn’t concentrate on. The card games in the rec room had gotten louder, more competitive, as boredom set in.
Selina had excused herself, claiming exhaustion from whatever they’d drugged her with. It wasn’t entirely a lie—the sedative still made her feel sluggish, though her mind was sharp with adrenaline. She made her way back to the dormitory, relieved to find it empty.
The quiet felt different here than it did on the streets. On the streets, quiet meant danger or opportunity. Here, it felt oppressive, like the building itself was holding its breath. She settled onto her bunk, then glanced around to make sure she was truly alone before activating her communicator.
“47, are you there?”
His voice came through immediately. “Status report.”
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