Your Regrets Mean Nothing To Me




Torin raced from the building, the lives stream's haunting images driving him forward.

At home, he bolted upstairs, his usual composure shattered. The sight of his agitation brought their elderly butler Julian Palmer hurrying after him.

"Have you lost something valuable, Torin?" Julian asked with growing concern. "I can have the staff search."

Torin, deaf to Julian's question, yanked open each door without looking back. "Empty," he whispered. "All empty."

Memory mocked him-he'd only noticed Elysia when she picked on Rowena. Otherwise, it was as if she'd never existed. The realization struck like a physical blow.

"Torin, what happened?" Julian asked, his aged ears struggling to catch the words.

Torin spun around, desperate hope lighting his eyes. "Where's my sister's room? Where does she sleep?"

Julian's furrowed brow spoke volumes. "Your sister?"

Five seconds of stunned silence preceded Torin's outburst. "Elysia Drayton! Dad's eldest daughter-my real sister!"

"Oh." Julian's face cleared. "But didn't you always say Rowena was your only sister?"

"That's impossible." Torin's voice cracked. "Show me Elysia's room. Now."

He couldn't wait to get to know the sister he'd always overlooked. He wanted to learn about her favorite colors and her preferred styles, planning to surprise her with his newfound knowledge when she returned.

His heart plummeted as the butler led him downstairs to the servants' quarters. 'Why would her room be placed among the servants?' The dread surged with each step until he reached the hidden room at the corridor's deepest end.

The door opened to musty darkness that hit them like a wave. After the light switch failed them completely, Julian had someone bring the flashlights.

When their beams finally pierced the gloom, they revealed a tiny cell-like space, so cramped there wasn't even room for a wardrobe. A worn single bed and narrow desk with missing legs crammed the space nearly full. Damp walls shed peeling paper like dead skin.

"There must be a mistake. I'm looking for my sister's room," Torin said with disbelief.

The contrast to Rowena's sprawling pink paradise twisted in his gut. This windowless box with its sagging mattress and peeling paint held only stark white sheets bearing ghostly traces of occupancy. The oppressive stillness pressed down, suffocating in its emptiness.

"This is Elysia's room. Your father's orders, nine years ago," Julian replied.

Those casual words stabbed deep. Torin turned from the suffocating darkness. "I'm seeing Dad. Clear this out. Move her things to a proper room-like Rowena's."

On his way to the office, Torin fitted his VR headset over his glasses. This VR headset was designed to fit right over glasses, so even folks with nearsightedness could see crystal clear.

The memory projection resumed with a strangled whimper piercing the darkness, followed by an oily male voice that made his skin crawl.

"Here comes your man, pretty thing," a man said.

The darkness persisted, broken only by muffled sounds. Then memory hit Torin- the trafficker's earlier words.

The blindfold slipped away to reveal a nightmarish scene: a skeletal man, nearly naked, lunging at young Elysia with predatory hunger. She dodged, throwing herself at the door.

"Lyra, please!" Her voice cracked with terror as she worked the lock, constantly glancing back. The room's garish red decor and rumpled bedding told its own horrible story.

[Jesus, she's just a kid. What kind of monster.]

[Must be under fourteen. She's still with the traffickers. Elementary, my dear Watson.]

[I can't bear to watch this anymore. Had to take my glasses off. This scene is making me physically sick.]

The livestream's display system seemed to sense the viewers' distress, mercifully blurring the worst details of what followed. Through the haze, they could still hear Elysia's desperate pleas.

"Please, Lyra!" Elysia sobbed. "I swear I didn't call the police. I'll keep gathering herbs, making money, just please!"

Her pleas went unanswered. The man's calm suggested he'd expected this. He sorted through items on a table, muttering, "Stupid woman tied you too tight. Good thing she locked the door."

Elysia huddled against the wall, fresh rope marks crossing her old wounds.

The man's grin widened. "Don't cry, beautiful. Village girls become women quite early here. Lyra was generous waiting till you hit thirteen. Worth every penny I saved."

The man's scrawny frame trembled with exhilaration, his eyes gleaming with the greed that seemed ready to devour the beautiful young girl before him.

Elysia retreated step by step until forced into a corner, her eyes desperately

scanning for anything to fight back with. "Stay back."

"Paid good money. Trying to cheat me?" the man said.

"I'll pay double!" Terror made her voice shrill. "Just let me go!"

But reason had no place in his lust-addled mind. The man reached for her face, drooling. "Still the delicate young lady from a rich family. Good that your face still looks pretty, even after all Lyra's work..."

Just as his fingers nearly touched

her face, Elysia's kick caught him off

guard. She twisted away under

arm, darting to a table lined with

tools. Grabbing the only weapon she could a whip-she screamed with raw desperation, "Don't touch me! Get back!" Content belongs to

Novelxo.org

Her defiance inflamed him further. "That's it, whip me! Then my turn." He lunged.

The viewers' hearts leaped to their throats as they watched. Against all expectations, the seemingly delicate Elysia boldly cracked the whip-thin as it was-straight at his head with deadly precision. Even a slender whip could deliver devastating force to the skull. Content belongs to Novelxo.org

"Little bitch!" His next rush met the whip across his eyes, too fast to block. The thin leather sliced through. A deafening shriek of agony tore from his throat.

Outside, Lyra hustled her son away, disgust twisting her features. "Heard he was

sick, but this..."

Only when Elysia knocked the man unconscious with a heavy object did the viewers

exhale.

[God, she's... she's incredible.]

[Can we talk about how this was the moment Elysia started changing? She developed those thorns as a defense mechanism, not to hurt others. Classic trauma

response tbh.]

The comments stirred something

deep in Torin's mind. He sat lost in el

thought, imagining himself in Elysia's position. Enduring endless beatings, abuse, and humiliation, he wondered if he would have been

able to cling to his moral compass. Content belongs to Novelxo.org

The thought settled heavily in his mind: survival might have forced him to abandon kindness and embrace cruelty, just as his sister had done to stay safe.