Fragment #92 - Ten days anniversary

Marc Rozia sits down, in front of me. My head feels kind of numb and I can only open one eye. I had the pleasure of a "conversation" earlier on with Veronique. I don't know what her hands are made of, but surely no satin. My hands are tied up behind my bak and to the chair I'm sitting on. I still don't know how long I've been here, but it feels as if this chair has become an extension of me, a part of my body that I could leave there without any pain. I wish I could do so with my whole body. Because it gives more pain than pleasure just now. It's true: if I have suffered until now, it's because of the physical pain. Maybe with no body, I would be ok.
Rozia is silent. It is not like him. But again, I suppose it's hard to engage conversation with what looks like a corpse. Who knows, maybe he's got remorse of letting me fall into the hands of that she-monster. The image of a Veronique with tentacules and a big purple eye in the middle of the face reaches my tired mind and makes me laugh. Well, laugh... It would be truer to say cough, as I can hardly distinguish any part of my body, and hardly breath without half chocking. Rozia raises an eyebrow at my missed performance, and stands up.
"I..." He stops, looks at me and walks a little in the room.
"Miss Collomb, did you know that you've been sharing our hospitality for the last ten days?"
I shake my head from left to right and back again, hearing that creepy noise that my neck does when asked to move. I spit a couple of drops of blood mixed with saliva.
"Really? It seemed like seconds to me. I enjoy my stay so much! Can I stay longer, please?"
I look at his face and get ready to receive another blow. I can see that he contains his anger. And then he relaxes and puts his hands behind his back.
"No wonder why you're in this estate, if that's the kind of teasing you do with Miss Mancabou. She's not a very patient woman, you know?"
"Really? I didn't notice."
He smiles.
"Irony and insolence will take you nowhere, Miss Collomb. But if you speak, then we can reconsider your future."
I look at him straight in the eye and say, with all the spite I have in my heart:
"If I speak, I have no future."
He stays silent for awhile, and replies, packing up his papers.
"Quite true actually, quite true." And he's gone.