Sylvie, the Slave Girl (Lily Futa) - Chapter 5
The events that happened to Sylvie completely reshaped her numb and monotonous life in a significant way.
She didn’t understand why she repeatedly experienced these events.
Her life was filled with beatings and verbal abuse for over ten years, but it changed dramatically after a merchant took her away.
Her previous master was a bad-tempered man with a penchant for cruelty; he died of illness.
A man with a fake smile reluctantly took her in.
The merchant brought her to a bustling city in the south.
A clinic stood at the city’s center.
The merchant gave her to the clinic’s owner, a gentle man.
This man treated her kindly, gently, and attentively, despite his unsettling gazes.
Sylvie spoke little.
Her sensitivity to people’s looks developed sharply due to her harsh upbringing.
The man never beat or scolded her like her previous master.
Instead, he treated her kindly.
Sylvie was unaccustomed to such kindness; she felt touched yet confused.
She worked hard to do whatever tasks she could to repay his kindness and stay there comfortably.
Days passed steadily.
She believed her unchanging numb life finally transformed.
She thought she found a wonderful master and lived gratefully every day.
However, the good times didn’t last long.
One evening, after drinking, the man entered her room.
He removed his pants, revealing his ugly hard c0ck which bobbed with his movements.
His unsettling gazes no longer hid their intent.
Sylvie understood what this meant.
Her hands trembled as she felt discomfort and resistance.
This discomfort overwhelmed her more than the beatings from her abusive former master.
When the man approached her, she instinctively grabbed a scalpel hidden under her pillow and killed him.
She had stolen the scalpel from the man’s toolbox.
Bl00d sprayed from the man’s severed artery.
He clutched his neck, his bloodshot eyes staring at her, making guttural choking sounds.
Bl00d splattered her face entirely.
Her mind went blank, and she heard her heart pounding loudly.
The man collapsed with a thud.
She stared at his bl00d-soaked body and the knife in his neck, wondering if this was a form of returning what belonged to him.
Fear and confusion overwhelmed her later.
She gathered her strength, cleaned herself thoroughly, and planned to escape.
She hoped no one would discover the man’s body soon, as no one would likely connect his death to her—a lowly slave.
The transaction between the man and the merchant wasn’t exactly honorable.
Her clothes posed a problem.
Her scars made walking outside difficult; people stared at her strangely.
The man’s house had no suitable clothes for her.
She wore one of his oversized shirts reluctantly, went to a clothing store, bought two fitting outfits, and hired a carriage expensively to travel to a distant city.
She used the man’s money for everything.
This, too, felt like making full use of what he left behind.
She dozed off in the carriage, feeling uncertain and lost about her future.
Exhaustion from the day overcame her, and she fell asleep deeply.
When she opened her eyes, she stood outside the clinic again.
The merchant knocked on the door, rubbing a green ring on his ring finger.
The morning sunlight, not yet harsh, left her eyes dazed.
She thought she was dreaming.
She pinched her palm and felt pain sharply.
A tall man opened the door, smiling gently, his glasses reflecting the sunlight.
Soon, the same events and conversations unfolded again.
Sylvie surveyed her familiar surroundings dazedly.
Her gaze lingered on the man’s intact neck, feeling as if it were another lifetime.
Time quickly reached the evening when the man entered her room again after drinking.
He removed his pants.
Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the knife and stabbed his neck again.
After killing him, Sylvie closed her eyes anxiously.
She touched her chest, feeling her heart pounding louder each beat.
The strange repetition of events mixed with the fear of killing confused her.
She wondered what was happening.
After waking, she stood outside the clinic again.
The merchant knocked on the door, rubbing a dark green ring on his thumb.
Yes, it happened again, the third time.
The morning sunlight warmed her body slightly.
Sylvie shivered despite the warmth.
She observed everything again.
The same conversations and events repeated.
She felt grateful for the man’s kindness, but it didn’t change anything.
She ended his life that day again.
This time, Sylvie noted it was the 17th day.
On the fourth time, Sylvie chose to kill him on the first night.
She didn’t flee this time.
After cleaning herself and the man’s body thoroughly, she lay on the bed, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep peacefully.
When she opened her eyes, the morning sunlight stung her eyelids.
As expected, the merchant stood in front of her, knocking on the door.
This time, she ran away immediately without hesitation.
The crowd avoided her, casting strange looks her way.
She reached a secluded grassy area with few people.
Sylvie lay down tiredly.
The night breeze felt pleasant, and the stars shone brightly.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
She tried many methods afterward.
She suspected killing the man caused the loop, so she knocked him out and tied him up instead.
She also tried not fleeing.
She attempted to stop him from drinking by taking his bottle.
He grabbed her wrist tightly, leaned close, smelled her, and said, “You must behave, Sylvie.”
Nothing worked.
She couldn’t seem to alter the normal course of events or resist the man’s actions.
Every time she woke up, she returned to that door.
Whenever things spiraled out of control, she awoke at the starting point.
Could she avoid sleeping? She couldn’t stay awake forever.
Following the normal course, it seemed she had to sleep with the man.
The longest days always led to that moment.
Sylvie’s mind went blank.
After countless repetitions, her resolve wavered.
She felt sad.
Should she give in?
She lost count of how many times this happened.
Sylvie lowered her head calmly, her mind somewhat empty, listening to the man knock on the door.
The door opened soon, and a cold female voice spoke with slight hesitation.
“Who are you?”
Sylvie’s fingers twitched slightly.
She kept her head down.
Her gaze shifted upward, catching a glimpse of a slender leg.
A woman?
This time, it was a woman?