LEVELS BELOW EVENT MEMORIES

MEMORY ONE

[Rella's legs were stiff. She longed to get up and stretch them, to go and relieve her aching bladder, but Mother had said wait here and last time that she had broken that rule, she had to start wearing long sleeves. Rella missed having her arms free.

She sat in a small chair in the center of the room. Perched upon every open space on every wall, lovely dolls stared her down. Sometimes, Rella felt as if the glass eyes were shining at her with pity. Sometimes, derision. Shamed, Rella kept her eyes at her feet, her hands folded just-so in her lap atop the layers of velvet and lace that adorned her.

Rella didn't like that they didn't blink and didn't breathe, because she could never be perfectly still the way that they could. Her chest always had to move no matter how shallow she kept her breaths. Her eyes watered if she kept them open too long. Last time a tear fell down her cheek, Mother had been so upset that Rella had to start wearing a stiff collar to hide her neck. It itched terribly.

Rella made sure she never cried, anymore. It had been hours since she had been left alone, but for Mother, she would continue being the perfect little doll.]

MEMORY TWO

[There was no hunger anymore. No need to sleep. No suffering, no parents. Rella laid her tiny body down onto the cold stone flooring in the foyer and gazed into the arched cavern of a ceiling. The once-magnificent chandelier that hung there was covered in rust and cobwebs. ]

Am I alive?

[Rella took her earlobe in her small fingers and pinched. She still felt pain, but just that enough was growing less and less convincing as the years rolled on outside and she remained inside, unchanged.]

Obviously, you are. [Rosemary's beady eyes held no light, but when Rella turned her head to look at the stuffed bear, all she saw was another girl smiling coyly.]

But how do you know?

Because I said so. And you trust me, don't you?

Of course I trust you.

Don't ask stupid questions then, dummy.

[Rella frowns as Rosemary giggles. Sitting up, she takes the bear into her arms. They stand together and hand-in-hand walk down the empty, creaking hall.]

MEMORY THREE

[In a dark, expansive office, Rella pours herself a glass of red wine and saunters her way toward a wall-to-ceiling window. Outside, the hellscape is bustling. Demons make their way to-and-fro, some dragging or carrying the battered bodies of screaming souls on their way to the daily torture grind. An explosion shakes up the skyline, like the erupting of a great volcano to a mixture of terror and elation among the infernal citizens below. More and more of the same tedium. But at least, the woman figures, today's tedium comes with power. Her pointed nails clink on her glass as she brings it to her lips and savors the bitter tang. The buzz of an intercom pulls her from her thoughts.]

Come to my office, Rella. I have an assignment for you.

[Sighing, Rella swings around toward her desk and pushes the speaker.]

Yes. At once, Father.

[She downs the glass.]