Abigails calling

The sleek, modern building rose from the edge of the city like it had been waiting for me. My heels clicked against the pavement, but the sound felt far away, muffled by the thick fog wrapped around my thoughts. I knew I was supposed to be somewhere else. A church. White dress. Flowers. Alex waiting at the end of the aisle with that gentle, hopeful smile. The thought flickered like a dying candle and then guttered out. It did not matter. Not compared to the voice.

The voice from the video was everything now.

I did not knock. My hand simply pushed the heavy glass door open. A well-dressed woman stood just inside, her smile serene and knowing, as if she had been watching me walk up the entire time.

"Welcome, Abbigail," she said softly. "We have been expecting you. Luna has been waiting to meet her new sister."

The word sister slid straight into the fog and settled there like it belonged. I followed her down a dimly lit hallway without question. My wedding shoes felt too loud on the polished floor. My heart was beating too fast, but even that rhythm was starting to slow, matching something I could not quite hear yet.

She opened a door at the end of the hall and stepped aside.

The room was luxurious: soft lighting, thick carpet that swallowed every footstep, a massive bed with dark silk sheets that looked impossibly inviting. And on that bed, sitting perfectly still with her legs folded beneath her, was a woman in tiny, sheer black lingerie that clung to every curve and left almost nothing to the imagination. A sleek slave collar rested around her throat, the little metal ring at the front catching the light with every subtle breath. Her body was covered in intricate, heavy tattoos that swirled across her arms, thighs, chest, and probably more hidden places: dark, beautiful patterns that seemed to move if I stared too long. Her lips were full and puffy, slightly parted in quiet readiness. Her eyes were glassy, half-lidded, and utterly content, like she had long ago stopped thinking and simply existed in bliss.

My breath caught.

Even with all the changes: the tattoos, the lips, the way she held herself like a living offering, I knew that face.

"Sylvie?" The name left my lips in a trembling whisper. Shock cut through the fog for one sharp second. "Oh my god. It is you."

She tilted her head slowly, that same soft, dreamy smile spreading across her face. When she spoke, her voice was low and warm, like she was greeting an old friend who had finally come home.

"Hello, sister. My name is Luna now." She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Do not worry. Soon you will understand. Soon you will be happy like me."

Before I could answer, before the thousand questions could even form (What happened to you? Why are you like this? Why am I here? What about Alex?), the woman who had brought me here pressed something on the wall.

The lights changed.

Every surface: walls, ceiling, even reflective panels on the floor, lit up with swirling, spiraling patterns. Black and white and shimmering iridescent colors, they spun slowly at first, then picked up speed, overlapping, pulling inward, pushing outward in endless hypnotic loops. The same spirals from the video. Only now they were everywhere, inescapable, alive. My eyes locked onto them instantly. I tried to look away, tried to blink, but my gaze simply followed the motion. Left. Right. In. Out. Deeper. The edges of the room dissolved into soft blur. The luxurious furniture, the woman at the door, even Luna herself faded to the periphery. There was only the endless, rhythmic spinning and that voice returning, stronger than ever.

"Relax, Abbigail. You are safe. You are open. You will obey."

My knees went weak instantly. A soft gasp escaped me as my legs trembled. I swayed where I stood, but before I could fall, the spirals seemed to hold me upright, pulling my focus even tighter. The voice was not just in the room anymore. It was inside my head, wrapping around every thought like warm silk ribbons.

"Relax."

My shoulders dropped. The tight knot of anxiety that had lived in my chest all morning: the wedding nerves, the fear of saying the wrong vows, the pressure, unraveled thread by thread. My breathing slowed, deepened, each inhale pulling the spirals deeper into my mind, each exhale pushing resistance further out.

"You are safe."

Safe. The word bloomed like warmth spreading through my limbs. The church felt like a distant dream now. Alex's face flickered once: concerned, loving, and then blurred, fading into the swirling patterns. Why had I been so worried? This room was safe. Luna was safe. The voice was safe.

"You are open."

I felt my jaw loosen, my lips parting softly. My mind, which had been cluttered with plans and memories and shoulds, simply opened. Like a flower unfurling under sunlight. Thoughts drifted out one by one. The wedding guests waiting. The ring on my finger that suddenly felt heavy and wrong. The life I had built. They floated away on the currents of the spirals, leaving behind a vast, peaceful emptiness. Ready to be filled.

"You will obey."

A low, helpless whimper slipped from my throat. Obey. The word sank straight down through my body and ignited a slow, liquid heat low in my belly. My nipples tightened visibly against the bodice of my wedding dress. A warm, aching throb pulsed between my thighs. Submission did not feel scary anymore. It felt right. Inevitable. Delicious.

The spirals spun faster. The voice layered over itself, repeating in gentle, overlapping waves.

"Relax. Safe. Open. Obey. Good girl."

I was dimly aware of movement. Luna had risen gracefully from the bed. Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet as she approached. Her hand found mine: warm, soft, steady, almost electric. She gently tugged.

My feet moved on their own. One slow step. Then another. With every step toward the bed, the trance deepened. My wedding dress brushed against my legs, but it felt foreign now, like clothing from another life. My body felt heavy yet weightless, limbs loose and pliant. Luna's fingers stayed laced with mine, guiding me, grounding me in the new reality. I could smell her: sweet perfume mixed with warm skin, and it made my head spin in the best way.

"Relax. You are safe."

I mouthed the words along with the voice now, my lips moving silently. A small, dreamy smile had formed on my face without me realizing it. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes: not from sadness, but from pure, overwhelming relief. Letting go felt so good.

"You are open. You will obey."

By the time Luna guided me to sit on the edge of the silky bed beside her, my mind was almost completely quiet. Only the spirals remained, spinning behind my eyes even when I blinked. Only the voice. Only the growing, aching need to be good. To please. To belong here with my new sister.

Luna kept my hand in hers, her thumb stroking slow, soothing circles over my knuckles. Each stroke sent little sparks of pleasure up my arm that settled deep between my legs. I leaned into her slightly, drawn by her warmth, her calm, glassy-eyed peace.

The voice continued its gentle, relentless work, sinking me deeper and deeper.

"Relax, Abbigail. Let the old thoughts fade. You are safe here. Open and ready. You will obey. And you will be so, so happy."

I sank. Slowly. Blissfully. The last fragments of resistance dissolved into the spirals.

And in that lingering, perfect haze, I finally understood what Luna meant.

Soon I would be just like her.

Alex's POV

The church was in chaos.

Guests whispered in tight clusters. My mother kept checking her phone like Abbigail might magically appear on the screen. The priest stood awkwardly at the altar, trying to look patient. I stood frozen in place, phone pressed to my ear for the twentieth time, listening to it ring and ring and ring before going to voicemail.

She never came.

Hours later I was back at our apartment, the door clicking shut behind me with a sound that felt too final. The place was silent. Her wedding dress still hung on the back of the bedroom door where she had left it this morning, white and perfect and waiting. I sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at it.

First Sylvie.

Now Abbigail.

What the hell was happening?