Cain walked into the dark room holding a diamond choker, "Oh? You're awake?" he chuckled and made his way to the bedside. "Aw... your ankles are bleeding. Poor thing." His long fingers caressed slender, white ankles, traveling up to the thigh. He squeezed and allowed his fingers to travel further up, finally settling behind the ear and bringing a lock of long, golden hair to his lips. "You tried to escape the chains again, didn't you?" Trembling lips, pursed with frustration, a pair of frightened eyes looked away. The clatter of a box echoed in the room and a gentle chin caught in Cain's hand. Looking into the eyes of a madman, a small, frightened voice begged,
"Please... please let me go..." choking back a small sob, they tried again to advocate for their freedom. When had everything become so hard..?
"Do not ever look away from me. Look at me. Look only at me. Be only mine." His fingernails dug into the poor captive's skin. When he was sure that his command had been heard, he cheerfully picked up the box. "Look, I found this in town today! It suits you..." A smile stretched across his face;
"...Ever."
"Yelp?!" I bolted upright in bed and searched around the room. Anime posters splayed across the walls, figures displayed just right on the shelves, check. Books- light novels, manhwa, manga, collector's editions, limited release merch, checked off and catalogued. Top of the line gaming system that I just purchased after getting a raise check. Oh thank fuck! I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair, talk about a wacky dream! I scanned my room for a few minutes trying to put together what happened last night.
"Oh?" My computer was still turned on and on the screen was, "Oh, jeez! Where are my glasses...?" I swore a few times while fumbling around. "I swear I fit the bill for just about every clumsy nerd out there. Emily Swanson, you freak! Where did you put your glasses?" I griped to no one in particular. I turned around and found them on the desk. Right, I had slapped them down after reading... that. With a super disgusted face, I reached for my glasses. My freckled face came into view in my mirror, and I remembered what had transpired last night...
A new webnovel... that's what. And guess what? It's about another girl who transmigrates into the body of a villain who is destined to die... yeah, predictable, I know, but the trope works. What can I say? It would have been bearable if it wasn't so unrealistic. I mean who transmigrates and just happens to know how to create aspirin? Like hello? Random high school girl? Yeah, right! That wasn't even the end of it! Somehow she knows how to do stitches? She knows about nuclear explosives? At this rate will she know the cure for cancer? Please! If that weren't enough, isn't she sailing over hurdles too easily? What author, just plastering band-aids everywhere to cover your own ass when fans get angry that their favorite male lead is dying? It doesn't end there! Why is no worried about why the villain is randomly placed wherever the main characters are meeting? That is way to random and the dude seems way too surprised about seeing them together. Plus, why is everything happening to the male lead? He seems to find a lot of misfortune, it can't all be Cain (the villain). Then again, dude's kind of your typical psychopath... actually, maybe that's not so strange. Anyhow, I don't know if it's been done too much, but I'm getting tired of these randos getting transmigrated and suddenly knowing how to tap into knowledge that'd you only know once you take specialized classes in college. And another thing! I....
...am soooo fucked! I cried out and flew across my apartment. After completing my transformation, I flew out the door.
"Oh! Emily! It's been a while, dearie!"
"Sorry! Can't talk! I gotta go!" I rushed passed Mrs. Crabapple... the least cranky individual in my apartment complex, rushing for the bus. Which was just pulling out. "Wait!!!!" I cried. I groan, I'll have to wait for the next bus. Okay! That's only fifteen minutes away, I can do this! I rush back into my apartment to indulge in a well deserved scathing review.
...
"Late to work, late to a meeting, late, late, late, late! Now I find out your paperwork is late too! The hell did I hire you for?!"
"...I'm very sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Mr. Alms is my boss... and a chibi. Why does it feel like my life sometimes is too similar to an anime. Plump, round, short, and somehow cartoonish. He's the typical chibi. Yet, within that small package is a fierce predator. Mr. Alms didn't become the biggest name in the industry by being a submissive patsy. Not to toot my own horn, or anything... especially because I came in way late... but I didn't become this man's secretary for nothing either. I am the ultimate organizer. Maybe it's all my time organizing merch, organizing my work life so my private life can be surrounded by the things I love, or organizing events for fangirls like me, but I can organize the socks off of anyone! I also can speak my mind... when I am in the zone. I look the part too! Super plain, thick framed, thick rimmed glasses, impeccable professional wear, down to the toes of my sharp, clacking high heels, bun head to the max. Serious looking, business woman, and the actress of a lifetime. Still, when it comes down to it...
"Yo, Em! Boss chewing you out again?" Robert is the security detail on the top floor. Tall, dark, and handsome. Tie and suit, and no sense of professionalism. Yet, even I can admit that the guy can do his job. I watch the boss leave and sigh.
"...maybe..." I mutter under my breath. He pats my back, sending me forward a few steps and his booming laughter fills the room. He's a big man, 145 pounds of muscles, lean, and built like a puma. Strong... and a nice ass. In other words, perfect eye candy and a perfect match for...
"Ah! Jacob! My man!" Robert walks over to Jacob and pulls him into a headlock, messing up his hair.
"Robert! Are you slacking off again?! And what is this behavior inside the workplace? It's unsightly!"
...the prickly sub-boss of the building. Jacob is skinny, pale, and a stickler for the rules. His square glasses pushed up with his index finger as he reads the riot act to everyone under the roof of this twenty-two floor corporate ant lion pit. He is the man who keeps all of us slaving and one scary dude. Hunky, free-spirited security captain x tsundare corporate, stickler slave driver, yes please! Hold the drool, ladies!
I wipe cover my mouth and clear my throat.
"My apologies for being late, Mr. Pitt. I have the paperwork right here." I clack over and hand over the documentation. Even mooning over men's relationships can't keep me from doing my job right... even after doing it wrong.
...
Let's skip to the weekend. Yeah, I could go more into detail about my day at the office, the awesome might of the possible romance between two hot men at my workplace who I will believe until my dying day are secretly fucking each other despite their differences, the meetings I went to, and what I had for supper the last couple days, but I'd be wasting your time. No, you don't need the play by play of my work life. Emily Swanson's professional life isn't interesting.
The woman who sat in front of me with impeccable make up, perfect clothing, no freckles ever, with manicured nails, and styled hair that screams "I married well", had her own meeting with me. Currently wearing a sweatshirt, old jeans, old tennis shoes, and a thick layer of freckles across my face. The two of us should not even be a part of the same universe! Yet this extremely stylish woman who has both life and men by the balls was here for one reason... me. She pushed an envelope across the table to me.
"Here. This is the material for this week." she sighed, "Did you look through last weeks?" Her gaze is mired in annoyance and dominance. I looked away and spotted two guys together at the cash register. Could it be..? "Emilia!" the thump of two angry hands against the table brought me back to the present. I winced and quickly regained my wits if only for a second...
"Yes, Mother?" I quickly gave her all my attention, straightening my spine and looking her in the face-- not in the eyes, that's a challenge to any predator. She looked me up and down and sunk into a sigh.
"Just where did I go wrong?" she shook her head and gave me another once over, "A baggy sweatshirt you got from a blood drive, jeans that have been worn down until there are holes everywhere-- why not just buy new jeans?" I swallowed hard and moved to defend my jeans, but she only held up a hand to stop me, "I am not finished, Emilia. Sit down." I obeyed, not having realized yet that I ever stood up. She continued, "Your hair has been gathered into a messy bun and protrudes from the back of your head like a-- and just when was the last time you cut your hair?! You have not been going to work like this, I presume?"
"You presume correctly." I meekly answered.
"Hmph. Those unsightly freckles! I told you that there was a place you could go to fix that."
"It's expensive, Mother."
"I believe I also told you I would pay."
"I'd like to stand on my own finances."
"...and what exactly have you been using those finances for?" I flinched and shrunk, she continued, "It is clearly neither clothes nor cosmetics, not jewelry. Nothing adorns you that makes me think you have bought anything worthwhile." She paused for a moment to take another deep breath, before entering her final phase of the nagging process. A slender, perfectly manicured finger points at me, "A young lady like you with my genes should have attracted a group of suitors, and should have netted you a few worthy prospects. Why is my daughter still single? When will you get a lover? A husband? When will I see my grandchildren? Unsightly! You should dress to impress even when meeting your mother! What if someone nice sees you? Will they take the time to talk to a girl who clearly doesn't put a thought into her looks?" She grabs her "materials" and slaps all the photos on the table. "Future prospects! All good pedigree, all good social standing, all successful! Choose one! Right now!"
"I'm married to my private life and the only kids I will ever have are my treasures back home! I stand by my freedom!" I cry out. The entire restaurant had gone silent at my outburst, or maybe they were already speechless at my mother's. I do carry some of my mother's genes, getting enthusiastic and excited and passionate might be some of the quirks that carried over, and they might not be. A wave a nervousness as people's stares washed over me. My phone dinged and I took it out to peek at the notification. From the webnovel app? I ignored my mother's protests and quickly took a look. The author has messaged me back?
Transmigration is a curse... good luck! ^o^
I stared at the message for a good moment. My hand was shaking.
"'Transmigration is a curse'..? 'Good luck'?" I took a deep breath and cried at the top of my lungs, "I regret nothing!" My feet moved on their own and in a second I was running out of my favorite boba shop, leaving my mother behind. My mother's voice screams after me.
Now, to be honest, I'm not really all that sure what there was to "regret", maybe that I left a long book review on the author's comment section? Or it could be the fact that I will not get hitched for my entire life? Or that I hook up random guys in my mind? Or the fact that I'm clearly abnormal? All of those are good guesses, but I have zero idea which one it is that I claimed that I refused to regret in the boba shop. The one thing I do know, as I look back on this is...
"Emilia! Look both ways before you cross the street!" My mother cried out. The familiar honking of a freaking city bus that was barreling right towards me. Ah. Dude. Pain hits me like a dump truck, or actually a city bus. I lay in the cross walk, I see a light. My mother rushes over and holds my hand in hers,
"M-mother..." I rasp, I lift up my arm and reach my hand towards the big, blue sky and wheeze out, "This twist of fate is way too cliche..."