The Death of a Songbird by M.R. McCoy

Author:M.R. McCoy [McCoy, M.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798987964101
Publisher: Inner Muse Press

Wren awoke, confused, and disoriented. It had been such a long time since she was roused from sleep anywhere but her room inside the Crystal Pedestal. Her living quarters had a small window at the top of the wall that let in the morning’s light, brightening the already vibrant whites, light pinks, and soft yellows that graced her quarters. It was quite the contrast to the gray-scale box draped in rough-cut blocks of stone that she found herself in. A small slot at the base of the room’s thick metal door slid open with a startling bang, clearing what cobwebs remained from her restless night. A tray filled with bread, fruit, and cheese clattered through. Breakfast already? She realized she must have slept in—what a weird concept.

Wren rolled off her thin, bulgy mattress and stumbled her way over to the tray of food—a hearty slice of brie, a slightly toasted baguette, and a handful of cranberries. Even in confinement, they would never dream of depriving a Purity Maiden of a decent meal. After all, it was essential to their beautiful skin and perky demeanor.

As Wren ate her food, she tried to put her mind to task on what to do next. This proved to be a harder undertaking than she would care to admit. Her mind wandered off on unhelpful tangents, trying to listen to all the voices in her head at once. What if they have an unclean chart and track my last flow? What if Harmony is in on Gerolt’s plan, and they’re both using me to climb the ranks? What if Mr. Pipher roams free and is heading this way right this very moment?

Exasperated, Wren kicked the empty food tray across the cell. She needed to remain calm, keep her mind sharp and focused. She did it every day, but this felt different. The air felt heavy as if the empty space itself condemned her. Wren had grown quite accustomed to being alone over her years in New Geneva but never like this. There would be no knock on her door, no prompting to finish getting ready, no list of clients…just an empty cell and her anxious mind. She did have one thing going for her. Hysteresis made her mind more entertaining than most.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she would put that gifted mind to use for herself. First, she needed to calm down. She put on her pretty face like she did every morning, mustering up her best façade for her day’s work. Despite the false face, hysteresis required her to have a clear mind. Otherwise, she could end up destroying a client’s property or injuring herself. It also required material familiar to her. She scanned the room, taking inventory of each item and its composition.

Bed frame: metal of some sort

Mattress: cotton, stuffed with something lumpy

Food Tray: wood

Menstrual cloths: a mix between hemp and cotton

Waste Bucket: wood

Wren came to the conclusion that the menstrual cloth presented the best option. Normally,

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