Chapter 6:This is Real Hell

Lyra's POV

What?!

The words echoed in my mind like a drumbeat. What was she talking about? I could barely grasp the meaning before Miss Caroline, she yanked my arm so forcefully that the world blurred before me. Pain shot up my shoulder like lightning, but my lips stayed sealed.

I wanted to scream, to lash out, but something in her ice-cold gaze made my chest tighten, and my tongue felt heavy. I managed to swallow the burning lump in my throat, forcing my breath into something resembling composure, even though the whole situation reeked of injustice.

"Lyra," she snapped, as if the name was a foul taste on her tongue. "Or whatever your name is, I don't have time for your questions. Get inside, now."

The venom in her voice made my stomach twist.

My body felt numb as she dragged me, the cold stone floor beneath my feet scraping against my skin. I could feel the sting of her fingers around my wrist, digging in like she was trying to claim ownership over me. I stumbled, but she didn’t seem to care, pushing me roughly into the dark, damp cell, the door slamming shut behind me with a deafening clatter.

It smelled like sweat and dampness inside—unbearable, claustrophobic. The other women inside the cell didn’t even glance my way. They all sat in silence, each one lost in their own world, their eyes dull, faces void of any emotion. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to fit in with them.

I was different. Always had been.

I stood there, breathing in the stale air, when Miss Caroline’s voice sliced through the silence like a razor.

“You’ll be joining the laborers tomorrow, Lyra. You’ll help clear the grasses around the other cell.”

Her words hung in the air, surreal. It took a moment for them to fully sink in, and then I froze.

Wait.

Did she just say what I think she said?

My heart slammed against my ribs. I was supposed to be among the breeders, the ones who didn’t have to do labor. I’d heard the whispers, seen the way the others were treated like cattle, their lives dictated by rules I didn’t fully understand. But this? This was something else entirely. I was supposed to be protected, kept safe, shielded from hard work.

But laborers?

No, I couldn’t.

“No.” I felt my voice crack, but I didn’t care. “No, this is a mistake.”

Her sharp, unforgiving laugh bounced off the stone walls, echoing around the room like a death knell.

“You don’t get to decide, Lyra.” Miss Caroline turned on her heel and marched toward the door. “If you’re too delicate for this, you’ll have to learn the hard way. But you’ll do it. You’ll join the others. The laborers. The men.”

I was suffocating. I couldn’t breathe. The weight of her words pressed on me like a crushing boulder.

The men.

She wasn’t kidding. Tomorrow, I’d be surrounded by them. The thought made my blood run cold. I’d be the only woman among them. The only girl. Alone.

Her words drifted back to me as she made her way out, leaving me to stew in the darkness. “Get used to it.”

“Get used to it?” I spat, my words strangled by the rising panic in my chest. “You can’t just—”

The door slammed behind her, cutting me off mid-sentence.

I stood there, the world around me spinning. Was this some kind of punishment? Some twisted test to break me down? My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep the tears at bay. No. I wasn’t going to let them break me. Not like this.

But the thought of being surrounded by men, their eyes on me, judging me, made bile rise in my throat. What if they hurt me? I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t survive that. Not after everything I’d already been through.

“I won’t do it,” I whispered to the empty cell, my voice trembling but fierce. “I won’t.”

But even as the words left my lips, I knew they were nothing more than a fragile protest.

The truth was, there was no choice here. They had all the power. They always did.

A low murmur from the corner of the cell drew my attention. One of the women, a tall, gaunt figure with dark eyes that barely blinked, spoke quietly, her voice hoarse from disuse.

“You’ll do it, Lyra,” she said. “We all do what we’re told. It’s the only way to survive.”

The words hit me like a slap. I whipped around to face her, the shock and fury flashing in my chest.

“Survive?” I nearly spat. “Is that all you think this is? Surviving?”

Her lips twisted into a bitter, resigned smile.

“Sometimes surviving is the best you can do.” She didn’t seem angry. Just… tired. Too tired to care.

I felt the heat of her words burn through me, but I refused to let them consume me.

"No," I muttered again, louder this time, more to myself than anyone else. "I’m not like you. I won’t just lie down and take it."

The woman’s expression didn’t change. She gave me a long, silent stare, her eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place. Then she shrugged and turned away, as if she had already given up.

I clenched my fists.