CHAPTER NINE
1992
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Bo shut the metal door behind him, the impact echoing through the small room. I remained motionless on the thin, dirty mattress.
“Hey, I said good morning.”
I had no way of knowing if it was morning or night; the only source of light was a single bulb, casting a milky glow that never turned off.
“Morning,” I mumbled, my tongue dry and sticky.
“Brought you food and water. Are you gonna eat, or should I shove it down your throat again?”
My pathetic attempt at a hunger strike hadn’t been fruitful, and I was doing myself no favors by staying weak. “I’ll eat.”
He placed the tray and a bottle of water on the floor next to my head. Vegetables, cheese, bread, and two boiled eggs. It smelled good, and not just because it was the scent of something other than my unwashed flesh. I moved to sit and grabbed the bottle of water, drinking half of it before I could stop.
Bo sat next to me on the mattress, grunting because of the low height, yet he hadn’t brought a chair in all the time I’d been here. He said it had been two weeks, but I didn’t trust him.
I ate while he watched, my stomach grumbling.
“You know that you can get a better room, and aren’t you sick of this dirty underwear?”
The same promises every day, tempting me with better conditions if I only agreed to play along.
“I don’t know where we are, and I won’t tell anyone you took me. Just let me—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Prey. They told me you were smart.”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed.
He chuckled and patted my knee. “The day you get to tell me what to do is not today.”
I took a breath to control myself, reminding myself of what happened the last time I’d made him angry. I still carried those bruises.
Bo moved his palm higher, rubbing my thigh. I hated the growing familiarity of his touch. “As long as you’re stuck in this smelly room, I also need to be here.”
“You don’t have to be here.”
“Sure, I do. I’m responsible for your ass.”
“Then you’re doing a horrible job.”
He laughed. “Why’s that? You want me to hug you and whisper empty promises? I ain’t Eliot.”
The mention of his name hit harder than a kick, making the fresh food in my stomach swirl. “I want to speak with him.”
“He knows where you are, Prey. Nothing’s stopping him from coming here.”
Since the moment I woke up in this place, dazed and terrified, I refused to accept Eliot’s betrayal, refused to believe that the man I’d trusted so profoundly had manipulated me from the moment we met. No one could be so evil, and the Eliot I knew was a good person. For a few wonderful hours, I believed that our friendship was turning into something more.
“Are you crying again?”
I wiped my eyes. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Nope, but what I can do is tell you that slowly killing yourself in here is a shitty way to go. If you want to give up, just say the word, and I’ll smash your head against the wall. It won’t be pretty, but it will be over in less than a minute.”
I shivered at the thought of dying in this filthy room, believing that Bo would do it in a heartbeat. I looked down at my pale skin, decorated with bruises and little cuts, my ribs standing out. I was fading more with every passing day, and I had nothing to show for it.
This is not how I survive this.
“When does he want me?” I asked, forcing the words out.
“He’s waiting for you right now.”
I leaned my head back against the stone wall, soaking in the feeling of defeat. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
Bo rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Good boy, Prey. Let’s make you a star.”
*
The three-man crew was already down in the dungeon, checking on the filming equipment. They had all seen me fight, beg, and suffer, yet none of them tried to help.
The dungeon was one floor beneath the estate, the air cold and stale between the brick walls. The “set” was at the end of the wide, eerie space, where they kept the different torture equipment. A leather sling hung from the ceiling next to a wide bed.
“Hey, come here.” Amanda signaled me over to the makeup station. I sat in front of the mirror, startled to see my reflection. My skin looked ashy, my cheeks sunken, and my eyes were hollow with dark circles beneath them. If I had been reduced to this after a couple of weeks, I dreaded what could happen in two months.
“Do something about his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept a week.”
Through the mirror, I watched a man approaching. He was muscular, his skin glimmering with some sort of oil. Spider tattoos decorated his torso.
“Sure thing, Master Derek!” Amanda chirped.
“So, you’re Jonah.” He leaned down, his square jaw hovering above my right shoulder. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you.” He lowered his voice. “They say you like to play hard to get. I can’t wait to see that.”
I swallowed. “I won’t play hard to get.”
He patted my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter; I’ll just pretend that you are. Got to keep our viewers happy.”
And who the hell were our viewers? Nobody told me anything.
“Go on, let me get to work,” Amanda told Master Derek. “I’ll make him pretty for you.”
“It shouldn’t be hard with this one.” He winked at me and walked away.
I rubbed my face, determined not to give him reasons to get too rough, although I feared it was out of my hands.
Amanda began to rub the makeup over my face, not being gentle. She was young, blonde, and batshit crazy. She covered the bags under my eyes, curled my eyelashes, and put lip gloss on my parched lips.
Unease ran through me at the sight of The Director walking in and sitting on his chair at the back of the dungeon, facing two monitors. As always, he wore black, his face expressionless. Seeing him made me think of Eliot, and my rage grew hot. My recollection of that horrible day was hazy, but I did remember how Eliot had pressured The Director to “give me a shot.”
“Are you excited?” Amanda asked, running her fingers through my hair with some sort of gel.
“No.”
“Well, you definitely should be. Master Derek is a professional!”
“Then why don’t you take my place?”
She giggled. “As if! That’s why you’re here, silly.”
“Then why are you here?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “They take good care of me. Back at the orphanage, Headmistress Bella used to say, ‘ You’re not pretty or smart enough to land yourself a rich man, Amanda Tulip, so settle for whoever is willing to take good care of you .’ That fat cunt sure knew what she was talking about, let me tell you. It’s a crazy world outside!”
I didn’t know how to respond, and seconds later, she announced that I was ready and walked away.
“Yo.” Bo came closer, chewing on an apple. Some of the juice dribbled down his beard. “You cool?”
I shrugged off his stupid question.
He glanced around before leaning closer. “Take this.” He held out a small vial with purple liquid inside it.
“What is it?”
“A little something to help take the edge off. You’ll thank me later.”
“I don’t do drugs.”
“You also didn’t used to do torture porn.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t want your drugs.”
“Listen.” He leaned his face down even farther, watching me through the mirror. “I’m on your side this time.”
“I doubt it.”
“I’m gonna hurt my back if I keep fucking you on that crappy mattress. Just drink this, and you’ll feel much more relaxed. It will also hurt less.”
That caught my attention. The coming storm of pain petrified me. I eyed the vial. Though I had zero trust in Bo, knowing he had something to gain from my success helped calm my suspicion.
“Fine.” I took the vial, uncorked it, and drank what was inside. The taste was bitter, almost making me gag.
Bo took the vial back and shoved it into the pocket of his baggy jeans. “Let it do its magic.”
“We’re ready to start!” one of the crewmen called.
The floor felt less stable when I pushed up from the chair. The edges of my vision brightened, but I still felt in control of my body. I walked carefully to face The Director where he sat. Master Derek came as well, looking even taller and bulkier when he stood next to me. The oil on his skin smelled bad, and I hated the thought of having it rub all over me.
“Jonah, I was told you’d do your part today,” The Director said doubtfully.
I nodded stiffly, recalling how I had tried to impress him at Eliot’s, believing he could help with my career. My naivety weighed heavily on my chest.
Based on my past two experiences in this dungeon, I didn’t understand why he was referred to as The Director; he didn’t do much as far as directing went.
“Since Jonah is showing growth, try to take it easier on him,” he told Master Derek.
“And if he changes his mind midway through?”
“I’m sure you’ll manage to overcome the challenge.” The Director moved to look at the monitors, dismissing us.
With that out of the way, we started shooting.
*
“Here we go.” Bo used a key to open the door.
I limped inside to sit on a chair next to a small table, waiting for my heart to settle down. My body was a battlefield of bruises, inside and out. A so-called doctor had come to check on me once we finished shooting, but all he did was give me a painkiller.
Once I could breathe with more ease, I looked around at my new room. After weeks in a smelly cell, it didn’t take much to impress me. I immediately zoomed in on the wide bed with the pillows and the cozy-looking blanket. My aching body couldn’t wait for a good sleep. The cream-colored walls were bare but not dirty. A side door seemed to lead to a bathroom, and the possibility of a decent shower sparked a flame of excitement in my chest. A pile of clothes lay on the bed, plain gray and clean looking. It was finally time to dispose of the dirty underwear I’d been wearing since I got here.
“Told you it’d be worth it,” Bo said.
He was right, but I wasn’t willing to admit it. The drug he’d given me had helped me handle the hell in the dungeon, providing a layer of protection around my body and senses.
Taking in my new surroundings, I almost missed the food on the table: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a bottle of water. “I’m vegetarian.”
Bo snorted. “I’ll be sure to alert the chef.” He moved closer and picked up a piece of chicken. I was starving, but the scent of meat made me ill.
“Open up, Prey.”
“I’ll just eat the—”
He shoved the chicken into my mouth. With his other hand, he grabbed my hair so I wouldn’t squirm away. My eyes watered as I chewed and swallowed, fighting my gag reflex and my churning stomach. Pick your battles.
Bo removed his hand, and I wiped the grease from my lips.
“Don’t think that getting this room means you can turn into a princess.” He picked up another piece of chicken. I forced my lips to part and ate what he gave me, focusing on getting my strength back.
When he saw I was playing along, he wiped his hand on the table and sat on the second chair in the room. I drank the water and finished all the food, feeling fuller than I had in weeks.
“Can I take a shower and go to sleep?”
“You can take a shower, but you aren’t sleeping until we inaugurate this bed.”
I glanced at my new bed, fearing it might end up being more of a trap than a reward. “You’ll have a better time when I’m not so open.”
Bo tugged at his messy beard. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Go grab a quick shower, then; you smell like a sewer filled with cum.”
The bathroom was small, but it had what I needed, including a new toothbrush and toothpaste. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled, then stepped into the narrow cubicle where the water was cold but heavenly. I knew I shouldn’t keep Bo waiting, but it was hard to pull myself out of the current. When I finally managed, I dried myself with a soft towel and stepped out naked, my modesty but a distant memory.
“Can I get dressed?”
Bo shrugged. “Whatever.”
I hurried to put on the gray clothes before he changed his mind, the feeling of fabric against my body strange after all this time. I ran my palms over the front of my shirt.
“Prey, it ain’t a gown. Sit your ass back down.” When I did, he asked, “Did my little gift help?”
“Yes.”
“I can get you more for next time.”
I had hoped he’d say that, but I worried about giving him another card to hold over me. “You’ll do that out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Hardly. I’m new to this gig, and I plan on making it work. If drugging you is the way to do that…”
“How did you even get this job?” With my newfound energy, my mind shifted gears, eager to collect every piece of information.
Bo took off his shoes and placed one foot in my lap. “Make yourself useful.”
I began to press and rub like I knew he liked it.
“They came to me while I was in prison.”
I wasn’t surprised he’d been to prison. “What were you in for?”
“It’s rude to ask.”
I glared at him. “You want to talk about rude?”
He chuckled and placed his hands behind his head, giving my crotch a stroke with his heel. “Fair point. Press harder. Ooh, that’s nice. I was in for rape.”
I almost expected him to say that, yet it still turned my blood cold.
“Don’t look at me like that, Prey—it wasn’t real rape. We were both wasted, and she didn’t remember going home with me. If her father hadn’t found out about it the next day, she would have kept her mouth shut. Hell, she’d have probably come back for more.”
“Did she say no?”
He shrugged. “Maybe once or twice, but she still moaned like a bitch all the way through. I can tell when someone isn’t into it, and she was into it. Anyway, they locked me up for eight years—no chance of parole. During my third year, the guards took me to a private room where a fancy-looking man waited. He said he could get me discharged in a matter of days if I accepted his offer. I told him I wasn’t allowed parole, and he said it wouldn’t be a problem.”
He wriggled his toes for me to continue massaging. “I can usually tell when I’m being bullshitted, but this guy seemed legit. He said I’d need to cut ties with the outside world and come work for a group of powerful people—The Society. My job would be to keep people well-behaved and obedient.” He winked at me. “He promised full freedom to do what I wanted with those unfortunate bastards, and after a few years, I’d be free to move on with a generous compensation. I still had five years in prison, so the deal was a no-brainer.”
It would not have been a no-brainer if he were a decent human being. I wondered if they only offered the job to rapists or if murderers were also an option.
“How many others like me are in here?” I asked, dreading the answer yet determined to discover more.
“Less than twenty, I think. I don’t know all of them. Don’t care, really.”
“Twenty? So they must be filming someone every day.”
“About two or three a day, I reckon.”
I tried to imagine The Director watching people being tortured every single day. Did he get off on it? Did he even care by that point?
“Are they all actors?”
“Nope, just random unlucky fuckers.” He lowered his foot and placed the other one on my lap.
“What did they tell you about whoever runs this place?” I asked.
“That double-crossing them would be the last thing I’d do, and you bet your ass I believe that.”
Since he seemed to be in a decent mood, I asked, “Can you get me some books and newspapers?”
“Newspapers? Why do you care about the news?”
I looked away in embarrassment.
“Fuck, Prey, don’t tell me you think your pretty face is on the front page! Nah, they wouldn’t let that happen. This is a one-way ticket for you.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but I couldn’t find my voice.
*
I slept better than I had in weeks, deep enough to avoid being tormented by dreams. When I woke up in my new bed, still hurting, I felt a hand stroking my head from behind. I’d managed to make Bo wait earlier, but his patience had clearly run its course. I turned on my stomach with my eyes still closed, waiting for him to pull down my pants and underwear.
Another minute passed, and Bo continued to stroke my head and play with my curls. “If we’re not doing this, I’m going back to sleep.”
He moved closer, his warm breath on the back of my neck. “Ever so eager.”
My eyes shot open, but the rest of my body froze.
“It’s okay,” Eliot said. “Take your time.”
I tried to calm myself down, but all my fears and hopelessness came spilling out, reducing me to a sobbing mess.
Eliot waited quietly until I regained my composure. Once I felt stable enough to face him, I turned around. All I could see were his blue eyes. How many times had I wished to wake up next to him?
“I hate you.”
“I know you do. I wanted to give you time to adjust, but when I heard about your first successful shoot, I came right away.”
“To free me?”
He smiled sympathetically. “No, Jonah.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He sighed and touched my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
I wanted to slap his hand away, but his touch was the first gentle thing I’d felt in this place. “You lied to me from the start.”
“I never lied about how special you were to me—still are.”
“I don’t know what to say to you.” Which was ironic, since all I had been thinking about was what I’d tell him, and how I’d make him see reason and release me. Seeing the lack of remorse in his eyes made it clear my pleas would go unanswered. What little hope I still carried was reduced to dust.
“I had tea brought for us,” Eliot said in a lighter tone. “Would you join me?”
My anger ignited at his audacity, but I fought to hold it back. Kicking him out would not help me get more information, and I wouldn’t be able to escape without knowing more about what I was facing.
“Okay,” I said, noticing the faint scent of tea.
We got out of bed and sat by the small table. Eliot elegantly poured tea into our cups—an act of normality that felt ridiculous.
“There you go. It’s mint, just as you like it.”
“I like freedom more.” I took the cup, wanting his conscience to bleed, but I wondered if he even had one.
“I put a stack of books in the drawer next to your bed,” Eliot said. “You haven’t read them yet.”
That statement nearly made me throw the tea in his face. He knew me so well because he’d been studying me for months, gaining my trust until I followed him blindly to my doom.
We drank in silence. I couldn’t stomach looking at his face, but I wasn’t going to get information by staring at his hands. “Are you part of The Society?”
Eliot set down his cup after barely taking a sip. “In a way.”
“I can’t talk to you if you’re being so vague.”
“You’re right. Yes, I am a part of The Society, but I never officially joined. My adoptive father was an important member, and the decision had been made for me when I was very young.” He hesitated before adding, “The decision had been made for my brother as well—my adopted brother. Father has… acquired us—for lack of a better term—at the same time.”
I quickly connected the dots. “Is The Director your adopted brother?”
“He is. Thomas is a wonderful man in a complicated situation.”
“Your brother is anything but wonderful, and you know it.”
He smiled tightly, a flash of anger in the cracks of his smile. I wanted him angry, to drop this act of politeness and self-control that I’d once admired. His guarded composure was an insult to my rage.
“Why is your brother The Director and not you?” I asked.
“Our father held that position before him, and he wanted a legacy. Such a position has been more important decades ago, before porn was easily accessible at video stores.”
“Then why do you still need it?”
“We don’t, if you ask me, but my opinion doesn’t matter. Old societies have their traditions, and those outlive logic.”
“Bo said there are more people like me here. Did you betray them too?”
My words didn’t seem to affect him. “I had something to do with a few of them, yes.”
Did you also take them to the cliff to look at the ocean? Did you speak with them for hours on the phone, take them to plays, invite them to your house, and then kiss them?
I pinched my thigh to regain focus. “The Director said he didn’t want me here, that I wasn’t right for this, but you insisted.” I held his gaze, daring him to look away. “Why?”
He leaned on the table. “I spent most of my life with The Society, Jonah, aware of their horrific acts. A child should not hear screams echoing through the hallways of his home. When I grew older, I knew I had to leave, but my wish created a problem. You see, my brother and I were a precedent, an anomaly. We never chose to join The Society and never possessed power or influence that could benefit its members. We were the adopted children of an important man, and we knew too much to be set free once he passed away.” He picked up the teacup and took a sip, his fingers slightly trembling. I felt an unwelcome urge to pity him, but I refused to fall into another trap.
“The High Council offered my brother to replace our father as The Director, and they made it clear he had little choice in the matter.”
“The High Council?”
“They are the ones pulling the strings. The original five members of the High Council founded The Society almost a century ago. They hold the right to choose who will take their place when they are unable to continue their work. After they made my brother The Director, it still left me—the other anomaly. They offered me a type of freedom—for a price. Everything worthy always has a price, and nothing felt more worthy to me than freedom.”
My rage grew hotter. Here I was, without my freedom, thanks to his actions. I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to continue.
“I was ordered to provide The Society with men in exchange for my freedom.”
I wet my dry lips. “How many?”
“One or two a year. The methods didn’t matter to them. You can hate me, but I was faced with an impossible choice, and I made my decision. What I didn’t expect was the constant pain of being away from my brother. Unlike me, he isn’t allowed to leave the estate whenever he wants, and life can be painfully lonely around here.” He smiled sadly, as if remembering something. “He wasn’t always so… cold. But one cannot uphold his duties in this role without paying a toll. I know he’s happy for me, but he also resents me for leaving, and I can’t blame him for that.”
“Is that why I’m here? To replace you?”
He raised his hand to touch my cheek, but I slapped it away. “I asked you a question.”
He leaned back. “Yes, Jonah. That’s why you are here.”
“Well, your sick plan clearly didn’t work, unless your brother also hasn’t spoken with you at all.”
Eliot frowned. “He doesn’t speak with you?”
“No! I only ever speak with fucking Bo—who’s a rapist—but I’m sure you knew that!” I jumped to my feet, causing the chair to fall backward. I paced around with my fists clenched, needing to break something, needing to tear something apart. “You don’t… you don’t have the right to give me as a gift to your sick brother! You don’t have the right to kidnap people!”
“Jonah, please calm down.”
“The police must be looking for me.” I glared at him. “I can’t wait for you to rot in prison.”
“No one is looking for you. You’re smart enough to know that.”
“Agatha must have noticed I’m gone.”
He pushed his chair back. “You’re upset, and I don’t want to upset you any further. It was good seeing you. I promise I’ll come visit again when I can.”
“Don’t bother.”
He gave me a sad smile and walked toward the door. “You are strong, Jonah. Remember that.”
“And you’re a horrible person, Eliot. Remember that.”
Bo entered the room shortly after Eliot left. I sat on the bed, drained to my core, my rage still hot and unrelenting.
“Nice reunion?” Bo asked, smug as usual.
“Lovely.”
He came to stand in front of me. “Did he get you the books you wanted?”
“Yes, but I don’t want…” I couldn’t finish my words because I wanted books almost as much as I wanted the sun on my skin and the wind on my face.
“You like being spoiled, don’t you?”
I stood up. “Does it look like I’m being spoiled?”
He closed the distance between us. “Not everyone gets books after one good shoot.” He glanced around. “And not everyone gets such a big room.”
If this room was considered big, I dreaded seeing the smaller ones. “Nobody’s doing me any favors. If they were, I wouldn’t have you .”
“Is that so? And here I thought we were becoming a hot item.” He held my chin. “Don’t you want to be my sweetheart?” His breath smelled like an ashtray.
“You don’t care what I want.”
“Oh, come on. You can pretend I’m Eliot if it will get you wet.”
I shoved him back. “Fuck you!”
He laughed and punched me in the face.
*
I was led to the basement four days later—enough time for the thought of losing my room and books to terrify me. When Bo offered me the drug, I drank it without hesitation.
They chained my hands to the ceiling, and I could barely stand on my tiptoes. The harsh lights hurt my eyes and made my skin hot. Master Derek stood behind me, whispering vile things in my ear as the crew checked on the cameras.
Even with the drug, I couldn’t hold back my screams as he shoved things into me, each bigger than the last. Some had spikes, some vibrated, and some produced electricity that shot up my spine and made me howl. My body was being torn apart, and the people filming had the audacity to look bored. The bright light made it impossible to spot The Director sitting at the back, but I knew he was there, seeing everything.
The hardest part was knowing how much worse it could get. All around me were torture devices, the kinds that could leave scars and wounds.
When Master Derek finally stopped with the toys and fucked me, it was almost a relief. He grabbed my hair from behind, rocking my body while the shackles kept my arms high and immobile. After he came, he made me face one of the cameras. With his semen dripping down my thighs, he jerked me off until I came on the filthy floor.
I used to love cameras, but they had been turned into weapons, and I was defenseless against them.
*
Bo woke me up later that day.
“The Director wants to see you.”
I shivered under the blanket. “I can’t do another shoot.”
“You can do whatever you’re told, but it’s not about that. Get up and come with me.”
He led me down hallways I’d never seen before. It made me realize how ridiculously large and eerily quiet this place was.
“Here.” Bo stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hallway. “Take my advice and don’t be snarky.”
“You’re not staying?”
“No.”
Uneasiness ran through me. I hadn’t been alone with The Director before.
Bo knocked on the door, and The Director’s monotone voice invited us in. I stepped into a wide office, pleasantly warm thanks to the burning fireplace. The Director sat in an armchair, holding a glass of wine and wearing his signature black clothes.
My eyes traveled to the framed portrait hanging on the wall. An old man with a white, well-groomed beard; his narrow eyes seemed to be staring at me in disdain.
“Thank you, Bo. You can leave us.”
Bo gave me a final warning glare before closing the door behind him.
“My father,” The Director said, looking at the portrait of the old man. “Theodore. A complicated man.”
“He adopted you and Eliot.”
The Director nodded, twisting his lips in annoyance. “Eliot told me he'd shared too much with you. Sit.”
I stopped myself from saying I preferred to stand and went to sit on the long leather couch, feeling more of the warmth from the fireplace.
“How do you find your new room?”
“Fine.” It was more than fine compared to where I’d been forced to stay before, but he already knew that.
I noticed a hint of suspicion in the way he watched me, as if he didn’t want me in his personal space. I recalled what Eliot had said about me being here to fill the void he’d left behind.
“Did Eliot ask you to talk to me?”
“Does it matter?”
It didn’t really, so I let it go.
“Would you like wine?”
“Yes,” I said, almost too fast.
He walked to the minibar by the side of the room.
“Not that one,” I said when he picked up a bottle. “The one next to it.”
“This one’s Eliot's favorite.” He almost sounded confused as he picked up the second bottle, but my taste in wine was a direct result of my time with Eliot.
He poured the wine into a tall glass and brought it to me, then sat on the other side of the couch. This whole situation felt surreal and wrong.
I took a sip of wine before asking, “Am I here to have sex with you?”
“You are very direct, and no, you’re not here for sex. I would like for you to watch your latest videos and review your work.”
My work. I tasted bile. “I don’t want to see it.”
“Jonah.”
“I’m not watching that! What’s wrong with you?”
“I suggest that you calm down. Have you ever taken acting classes?”
“Of course I have.”
“And were you not expected to watch your work so you could improve?”
I gawked at him. “Are you really comparing the two?”
“I understand that this is difficult, but I must insist.”
In other words, shut up and watch. “Can I have more wine first?”
“Wine is not soda. Drink slower.” But he still went to pour me another glass.
Back on the couch, he pressed on a remote that made Theodore’s photo slide aside, revealing a hidden television. He turned it on and played the recording of me from a few days ago, when I gave up and stopped resisting. I sharply looked away at the pitiful sight of myself naked and bruised. This was a whole new kind of torture. Not trusting The Director’s patience, I took a deep breath before forcing my eyes to return to the screen. “You want me to just sit and watch?”
“How did it usually work in your classes?”
It’s not the same thing!
“We were supposed to stop the video when we had a comment, or the teachers would stop if there was something they wanted to point out.”
“Okay. Then you will stop when you have a comment, and I will do the same.”
I took another sip of wine, glad to feel the alcohol tickling my senses. I never wanted more to be drunk in my life. “You can play it.”
He did, and I watched while gripping the glass tight enough to risk shattering it.
“Here.” He stopped the video. “You refused to look at the camera.”
On the screen, Master Derek was pounding into me while I lay on a wooden table. He was gripping my hair and trying to make me look to the front.
Sick to my stomach, I said, “The lights hurt my eyes. You made them too bright.”
“It’s a dark set.”
“Doesn’t matter. You need the right kind of light, not just any bright light. It also made me look too pale.”
“You are pale.”
“You know what I mean.” Even Master Derek, with his darker skin, seemed milky.
The Director nodded. “I see your point. We’ll adjust that. You were also trying not to shout.”
“So?”
“It made Derek hurt you more. Shouting is a part of this.”
Of course it was. I wished for more wine, but I knew he would refuse. “I’ll try shouting more,” I muttered.
He resumed the video and once more forced me to sit through hell. I tried to pretend I wasn’t watching myself, but it didn’t work.
He stopped the video a few minutes later and said, “When you start feeling pleasure, let it show.”
“There wasn’t any pleasure!”
“Keep your voice down, Jonah. And yes, by that point, you were feeling pleasure, even if it was against your will. I’m only asking you to not hold back.” He scowled at the screen. “Were you using drugs?”
I shifted in my seat. “What?”
He met my eyes. “Are you taking anything?”
That was my chance to screw Bo over, but what would that achieve? He’d only become meaner, and I still wanted what he’d been giving me to counter the pain.
“I don’t do drugs, and I don’t appreciate the accusation.”
He seemed mildly amused by that. “Okay. Do you have any more productive comments?”
I didn’t know where to start with how bad it all seemed. “The cameras.”
“What about them?”
“They were all over the place, and the zoom levels were too aggressive. I already told you how bad the lighting is, but the sound is also muffled most of the time. When you’re shooting in a place with an echo, you need the right equipment, like lavalier microphones. They’re not hard to find.”
He considered my words before nodding. “Those are all valid points. Did you study photography?”
“A bit.” I’d hoped it would give me an advantage, and I loved knowing more about the craftsmanship that went into films.
The Director seemed thoughtful as he watched me. “I’d like for you to help with the productions.”
I frowned, my anger growing. “You mean to help make the other prisoners look better on camera for your sick viewers? Forget it.”
He didn’t seem surprised or affected. “Think it over. You’ve seen that good behavior is rewarded.”
“Will it get me out of here sooner?”
“It won’t,” he said flatly.
“It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything wrong!” The alcohol unmasked my emotions, putting my heart on my sleeve.
“I can be cruel and lie to you, Jonah.”
“You are cruel. And evil.”
“Perhaps, but we can’t always control our destiny. The best advice that I can give you is to adjust and make the best out of a very bad situation.” He moved to stand. “Thank you for your time.”
“Wait. If I help you, does it mean I’ll have to speak with the others… the others like me?”
“You won’t need to.”
“Then I also want you to stop Bo. He’s a monster.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that. The Society has an arrangement with its employees, and I can’t intervene unless something drastic is taking place.”
“Something drastic is taking place.”
“Bo is new to this job. He’ll get bored with you eventually—give it some time. Come, I’ll walk you to your room.”
“Can I have more wine? It will help me sleep better.”
“You’ve had enough.” He cleared his throat. “Next time, if you behave, you’ll get more.”
And just like that, I wished to return to his office, into the lion’s den.
I got to my feet and followed him outside, knowing I’d just made a deal with the devil.