End Scene

CHAPTER TWELVE

1992

“It’s gonna be fun,” Bo said as I finished getting dressed, “as long as I don’t have to speak to any boring rich folks.”

I stopped myself from saying that no Society member would waste a second talking to Bo. The event he was excited about was due to take place in a couple of days, with members coming by the dozens. I’d been to four similar events during my three months of captivity, and they had all involved humiliating sexual games that left me and others hurting for days. The guests would spread between different lounges throughout the estate, discussing business and politics while taking turns using one or more of the captives.

We were their entertainment, our suffering part of the menu.

“I’m ready,” I said, wearing my simple gray clothes.

Bo pulled me closer. “Ready for what? Making another poor bastard look good on camera?”

I bit my tongue, knowing he was trying to press my most sensitive buttons.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment, Prey?” He squeezed me against him until I hissed in pain. “I love seeing what a cold motherfucker you’ve turned out to be. Makes me proud.”

He let go, and I took a step back. “We’re late. He’ll get angry.”

Bo snorted. “Angry at you? His prodigy?”

“I’m not his prodigy; I’m just doing what I’m told.”

“Oh, please. You’ve only had to perform once in the last few weeks.”

I wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t the truth, but if that was The Director’s way of showing his appreciation, I wasn’t about to question it.

“Can we please just go?” As much as I hated spending time in the dungeon, at least there I wasn’t alone with Bo. In the last month, he’d become nastier and crueler, clearly taking offense at my upgraded status.

“Yeah, let’s go. We’ll catch up later.”

The threat in his voice was hard to miss. I swallowed my fear and followed him through familiar hallways. As the days passed and blended together, my life before this place grew vaguer. Not long ago, my biggest worry was paying rent.

When we reached the dungeon, I immediately sensed tension in the air. The crew members—now mostly redundant since I started helping—didn’t speak to each other, their eyes cast down as if they were trying not to get noticed. Even Amanda stood quietly by her makeup station, and that nutcase never shut up.

I glanced at The Director, who was sitting next to someone I didn’t recognize.

“Damn,” Bo whispered. “He’s from the High Council. They don’t usually come here.”

“Jonah,” The Director said, his voice sterner than usual, “you’re late. Come say hello.”

I was late because of Bo, but I kept my mouth shut and stepped closer.

“The famous Jonah Carter,” the man next to The Director said. His skin was ebony black, and his gray suit was the same color as his short hair. He flashed pearly white teeth.

“Jonah, this is Mr. White from the High Council. He came for a surprise visit.” I noticed the subtle disapproval in The Director's tone and that he was sitting stiffer than usual. I wondered if Mr. White was his real name or if it was meant to be ironic considering his dark skin.

“I’ve been hearing good things about your contribution, Jonah. I don’t usually watch these little videos, but our members seem pleased with the improvement.”

It didn’t escape me how he referred to people’s suffering as “little videos.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I still think that you should skip this shoot and watch the next one,” The Director told Mr. White. “He’s still adjusting and has been proving… difficult.”

From that alone, I figured he was talking about Nathan, and I could understand his concern.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine,” Mr. White said with a wave of his hand.

“Let go of me! Fucking perverts! ”

All eyes turned toward the entrance, where two guards dragged Nathan in. Since he hadn’t yet earned the gray clothes, he was naked, his skin covered in dirt and bruises. He was still being held in my old cell despite being here for well over a month. I couldn’t imagine being locked in such a place for so long; I’d barely lasted two weeks.

“Nathan,” The Director snapped, silencing him. It was rare for him to lose his cool. “It’s about time you got your act together. I’ve been clear about—”

“You’re wasting your fucking time!” Nathan had to be held back when he tried to kick The Director. I moved aside to avoid getting hit, noticing Mr. White watching with amusement, almost in giddiness.

Nathan’s broad chest heaved, his copper hair sticking to his forehead. “Take me back to my wife and son, you bastard! I won’t say a word about this to anyone!”

I was struck by his words. A wife and a son?

“We’re not getting into this now,” The Director hissed. “Derek, get him ready.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Master Derek walked to Nathan and smashed his fist into the side of his head. I flinched and looked away as they dragged him to the front of the room. With the sound of a loud impact, I jolted and turned my head to see that they had accidentally knocked over two cameras.

The Director rubbed his face. “Dammit. Jonah.”

I hurried to where the cameras were being raised and began to check on them, Nathan’s shouts and curses relentless in the background. It dawned on me how much easier it had become for me to tune out others’ suffering.

I love seeing what a cold motherfucker you’ve turned out to be.

I made the mistake of locking my gaze with Nathan’s. He spat blood on the floor, his hands tied to the ceiling, barely allowing him to stand on his tiptoes.

“What are you looking at, you fucking traitor?” The hatred in his eyes paralyzed me. “You like selling out for perks? Hey, don’t look away! You’re just like them, you know that? Hell, you’re ten times worse!”

I let go of the camera and walked away, on the verge of throwing up. Air failed to reach my lungs, and I could feel all eyes on me.

“The traitor can’t handle the truth!” Nathan’s voice followed me like a shadow.

“I want to go,” I said, and since I wasn’t sure anyone heard, I shouted, “I want to go!”

“Bo,” The Director said, “take him to his room.”

Without waiting for Bo, I ran out of the basement.

*

Hours later, I lay in bed, curled up and shivering.

In Nathan’s eyes—in all of their eyes—I had switched sides and become a part of this sick operation. But I couldn’t fathom going back to how things had been. My guilt couldn’t trump what I was getting out of this arrangement.

Bo entered my room as I lay tucked under the blanket. “Get up, Prey.”

I’d been expecting The Director to want to see me after I embarrassed him in front of a High Council member. I pushed myself out of bed, but before I could take a step, Bo said, “Mr. White is waiting for you.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “No idea, but you better act extra careful with him.” His nasty smile widened. “After your little meltdown, he might stop your sweet arrangement with The Director. I’m sure Nathan would be happy to hear that.”

I clenched my fists, hating how well he knew my buttons. “Should I tell Mr. White you’ve been keeping him waiting?”

He smacked the side of my head, but at least he stopped yapping and led me out. We walked down familiar hallways until Bo took a turn onto a path I’d never seen before, through a hallway with brick walls. “Where are we going?”

“The lab.”

“What lab?”

“The one they use for experiments, duh. Didn’t The Director tell you about that?”

My stomach tightened. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Guess you’ll find out.”

I tried racking my brain for any mention of a lab, but I got nothing.

We climbed up a flight of stairs, making me question my perception of the estate’s layout since I never thought there was a second floor. At the top of the stairs was another short hallway with a single white door at the end. The faint sound of classical music echoed between the walls, and my heart drummed faster with every step I took.

“Don’t fuck this up, Prey,” Bo said and knocked.

The classical music grew louder when Mr. White opened the door. He wore a dark button-down shirt that emphasized his narrow frame.

“Thank you, Bo. Come in, Jonah.”

I stepped inside, deeply relieved to not see a lab, though I still frowned at the sight of the small dining table. Food waited on two plates, and a candle burned at the center. I glanced at the wide bed at the side of the room, a pang of dread hitting my chest as I realized what was expected of me.

“Don’t let the bed fool you,” Mr. White said. “We will not be having sex.” He held my chin and tilted my head from side to side. “As lovely as you are, I don’t find the weakness of the flesh appealing.”

That made me relieved, but it also made this dinner stranger.

“I was told you’re vegetarian.” He moved to sit by the table. “I had the cook prepare something nice for you.”

“Thank you.” I sat on the other side of the table, the candle burning between us. My plate had vegetables, quinoa, and tofu. Mr. White was having what seemed like a veal cooked rare.

“I heard you have a taste for fine wine.” He picked up a bottle and poured me half a glass. “A few sips and you’ll feel less nervous. You are nervous, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Nervousness is a sign of a healthy mind.”

“I don’t know if my mind is healthy.”

“As a psychologist, I’m eager to find out for myself.”

“You’re a shrink?”

He raised his glass. “A psychologist, yes. Let us toast to your mind, Jonah Carter.”

Still jittery about this whole thing, I clinked my glass with his. The wine was stronger than what I usually drank with The Director, but it was still rich in flavor. I knew I was supposed to wait for Mr. White to ask questions, but I decided to take the lead. “I was told you’re in the High Council.”

“Yes, and have been for many years. It’s much less interesting than you might think.”

I cut a piece of tofu. “What are you supposed to do exactly?”

“A whole lot and nothing—if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

He sliced his veal elegantly, making me think of Eliot. “We govern, which is a fancy way of saying we make decisions that can affect our members. I’d be lying if I said we needed to make any major decisions recently, but that’s what you get with old societies—they either tick like a clock or fall apart. I’m assuming that we will begin to fall apart in… oh, a few years give or take, but we should be safe for the rest of the evening.” He winked.

“Why will you fall apart?” I asked, too curious to continue eating.

“Oh, many small reasons, all resulting in a dwindling number of members. We can’t just publish an ad in the newspaper, and with how fast technology is developing, it becomes a greater challenge to keep things hush-hush. Have you ever heard of cell phones? Very exciting technology, but once we start carrying our phones with us, what will stop nosy people from spying on us?”

“Eliot has a cell phone in his car. Do you know him?”

“Eliot? Of course. We first met when I became a member, a few years after he’d been adopted by dear Theodore. A wonderful man. Eliot, that is—Theodore was a pretentious ass, and that says something coming from me. I was the driving force behind Eliot gaining his freedom, though he has never been a prisoner, simply… limited.”

That meant that he had likely been the one to ask Eliot for a steady supply of captives. My wariness of him intensified, as did my disgust.

“I hate Eliot.” The words slipped out of my mouth.

Mr. White nodded. “He’s the reason you’re here.”

“He betrayed me.”

“Well, yes, I assume that’s accurate. Were you in love with him?”

“Yes.” I drew in a sharp breath, hardly believing my own openness.

“Love does tend to complicate things. Eliot loves his brother more than anything.”

“That’s why I’m here—as a twisted, fucking gift to him.”

“Well, I can think of less enjoyable gifts than you. And wasn’t Eliot right to choose you? The Director seems quite fond of you.”

“It doesn’t matter if he was right!”

Mr. White watched me calmly, unaffected by my outburst. “Tell me, how did you feel earlier about Nathan’s accusations toward you?”

Why did he have to bring that up? I crossed my arms, losing my remaining appetite. “I felt bad.”

“Because you were insulted, or because he was telling the truth?”

“He told the truth, but it’s not my problem he keeps on fighting. He only hurts himself.”

Mr. White nodded. “He does, but every man can break, some faster than others. Tell me, how do you and Bo get along?”

My blood warmed just from thinking of him. “He’s a monster. Can you make him back off?” If The Director couldn’t, maybe this man could.

“What makes him such a monster?”

“He… he hurts me. He makes me wear women’s clothes. He chokes me and spits on me. He…” I bit my lips, dumbstruck by my unfiltered flood of words.

“It’s in your food,” Mr. White said.

I looked down at my plate. “What?”

“A truth serum. No side effects for you to worry about.”

“Why… why did you give it to me?”

“As I said, I am a man of the mind. Is there a better way of learning one’s mind than to hear one’s uncensored truth?”

I rubbed my face, feeling violated. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’ve been called worse. Now, about Bo. This place puts two groups of men together: one to obey and one to rule. This dynamic always brings out the worst in people. Some try to fight it; others gladly embrace it. You, by rising above your station, have challenged the norm. To put it plainly, you’re making Bo feel small.”

“I’m not responsible for his fragile ego.”

“That’s beside the point. Either find a way to reinstate his sense of control or find a way to take him out.”

I leaned forward, the candle dancing at the bottom of my vision. “I like the second option better. Can you help me?”

He leaned forward as well, as if we were sharing a secret. “What would you like me to do?”

“Kill him.” The words slipped out of my mouth with ease.

“And how would you go about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jonah.”

“I’d choke him. Slowly. He should feel it happening.”

“Would you be able to do it?”

“Me? I… maybe. No. I can’t.” I tasted bile, the food gushing in my stomach.

“Do you feel weak, Jonah?”

“Yes. I’m weak. Shit.” I wiped my eyes.

“Don’t be harsh on yourself. Truth is never easy, but always liberating. As I said, if you can’t get rid of him, empower him. Nourish his ego.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. May I give you a gift?”

I nodded suspiciously.

He walked to the side of the room and pressed a button next to the bed. “Look up.”

I raised my head to see the ceiling split open, revealing the night sky through a glass dome. I’d never seen so many stars in my life, blinking in the endless black. It had been months since I’d last seen the sky. It made me realize this place couldn’t possibly be close to a city, or the stars wouldn’t have shone so brightly.

“You’ll hurt your neck. Lie down.”

Still mesmerized, I made my way to the bed and lay facing the sky. The room around me disappeared as I floated in space. “It’s beautiful.”

Mr. White climbed onto the bed to lie next to me. “We should all look at the sky more often. It’s humbling.”

It felt cruel of him to say such a thing while I was locked in here.

“How does seeing this make you feel?” he asked.

“Sad.”

“Sad?”

“I’m beginning to believe I’ll never leave this place.”

“Never seems like an awfully long time. For now, take joy in the unusual path you’re paving.”

“Is that why you wanted to meet me?”

“I am a man guided by curiosity—to a fault, some might say.”

“Can you get me pills for anxiety?”

“What does your anxiety feel like?”

I wet my lips. It was easier to speak without looking at him. “Like I’m burning. Like there’s something inside me that wants to get out. It hurts in my bones. I can’t breathe, but I can’t pass out either.”

He remained silent for a few moments before saying, “I can help you, but not with pills.”

I tilted my head at him. “Then how?”

He reached for his shirt pocket and took out a small pin of the American flag. He moved to face me, resting on his elbow. “Controlled pain, Jonah, is a powerful cure and less risky than psychoactive drugs.”

“I have enough pain in my life.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of pain. Keep still now.”

I watched in shock as he brought the pin to my arm and stuck it into my flesh. “It hurts!”

“Focus on your breathing. Don’t look away.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. As strong as the pain was, my fear of him was stronger. I bit my lips, moaning as he spun the tip inside my flesh. My sight filled with blinking lights, but I still saw the first drop of blood slide down my skin. An unexpected sense of relief washed over me.

“Better?”

I hesitantly nodded. “It still hurts.”

“I know.” He pulled out the pin, then stuck it lower in my arm.

I grimaced, heat swimming underneath my skin. Still aware of the pain, a part of me became detached, an observer rather than a participant. We didn’t speak as he kept poking, and soon, thin rivers of blood soaked into the bedsheet.

“Has anyone ever told you how strong you are, Jonah?”

Feeling lightheaded, I said, “Eliot did, but he’s a liar.”

“We all lie, some better than others.” He held the bloody pin above me. “Show me how strong you are.”

With shaky fingers, I took the pin.

“Show me,” he said again, and I did.

*

“I’m thinking.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

The Director twisted his lips in amusement.

A minute later, I moved my queen on the board. By the time it took me to lean back in my seat, I realized I was screwed. “Shit, I—”

“Language, Jonah. And checkmate.”

I rubbed my face in frustration. That had been my best game yet. “You can let me win from time to time.”

“I don’t reward failure.”

Harsh . “I think I’ve earned another drink, at least.”

“Half a glass.”

I rose from my seat in front of the fireplace and poured myself half a glass of wine before sitting back down. I took a long sip, feeling comfortable and sleepy, enjoying the warmth from the dancing flames.

“Have you been taking your vitamins?” The Director asked. Since I had no exposure to sunlight,the other captives and I needed to take vitamins regularly.

“I’ve been taking them.” I sipped more wine, wondering why he hadn’t yet asked about my meeting with Mr. White two days prior. Maybe he didn’t know about it, or maybe he was waiting for me to bring it up. I touched my arm, where the puncture marks had all but healed. Yesterday, I returned to my room to find a small box with needles on my bed. I hadn’t used them yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“I’ve met with Mr. White.”

The Director gave a slight nod, the fireplace making his graying hair seem golden. “I’m aware.”

“I don’t think you like him.”

“I don’t need to like him to respect his role.” He held my gaze. “Did he hurt you?”

I hesitated. “Not… physically.”

He sighed like he knew what I meant. “No one’s better at messing with your head than him. He doesn’t come here often, at least.”

I wondered if Mr. White had made him take the truth serum as well.

Someone knocked on the door, and my stomach dropped at the sight of Eliot. I hated when he came unannounced, but The Director had likely known and chosen not to tell me.

“Am I interrupting?” Eliot asked as if he cared.

“Jonah was just showing me how much he still has to improve in chess. I thought you’d be arriving tomorrow.”

Eliot shut the door and sat on the couch. “Another night in your company sounded better than another night in my empty house.”

“You should arrive in the mornings. I don’t like it when you drive all this way in the dark.”

“I’ll try to do better, big brother. Hello, Jonah.”

I asked The Director if I might be excused.

“Not yet, and you know how I feel about a lack of manners.”

I drew a breath and turned to look at Eliot. “Hi.”

He smiled, as handsome as always. “I brought you something.”

I knew better than to refuse, so I silently took the box he handed me and opened it. Inside were three strawberry almond rusks from what I assumed was my favorite bakery in LA. I hated how well he knew what I liked. “Thank you.”

The Director leaned forward and took a rusk.

“Since when do you eat sweets?” Eliot asked.

“Mr. White was here.”

Eliot sighed. “Then sweets and alcohol are indeed in order.”

“Why?” I asked. “He gave you your freedom, didn’t he?”

Eliot crossed his arms. “Please keep in mind that my ‘freedom’ came with limitations and that Mr. White doesn’t do anything without a motive.”

Like befriending someone so you could gift him to your brother? It took all I had not to say that out loud.

“He had dinner with Jonah,” The Director said.

Eliot watched me with concern. “Oh dear. Are you okay?”

Hearing that shattered my self-control. “Am I okay? Are you really asking me that?”

“Jonah.”

I ignored the warning in The Director’s voice and threw the two remaining rusks into the fire. “I don’t want your dirty gifts!”

“Okay.” Eliot raised his hands. “I understand. Please calm down.”

He was giving me a way out of punishment, and I knew better than to refuse it. “I don’t feel well. Can I go?”

The Director shook his head. “You feel fine, now zip your lips and listen. Nathan is proving to be a more difficult case than I expected, and now I have Mr. White who’ll undoubtedly be checking up on his progress.”

“Then why did you bring him here in the first place?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “He has a family.”

“It wasn’t my decision. Nathan used to work for a company owned by one of our most successful members. He saw Nathan and decided he wanted him here, logic be damned.”

It rattled me how easily a man’s life could be destroyed by someone more powerful, but all around me were living proof of such behavior, and hadn’t what happened to me been the same?

Noticing my bleak expression, The Director said, “It’s too late to change what happened, Jonah, and I would like for you to speak with Nathan.”

“ Me? But he hates me!”

“He hates everyone here, but you are the best example of what good behavior can achieve. Make him see sense—it’s for his own good.”

I wanted to argue because I knew it was pointless, but the decision had been made. “Fine, I’ll speak with him.”

“Thank you. Before you go…” He held the remaining strawberry almond rusk in front of my face, either to embarrass me for acting out or because he knew I wanted a taste. He shook his head when I tried to take it from his hand. I opened my mouth instead and ripped a piece with my teeth, dropping crumbs on the floor. It annoyed me how good it tasted.

“Thank Eliot.”

I finished chewing and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I left them before Eliot’s presence could taint me more.

*

The following day, Bo took me to see Nathan.

“What do you think I should tell him?” I asked as we walked toward my old cell.

“Tell him to stop being a drama queen.”

“He has a family.”

“ Had .” We took a left turn and continued walking. “I got a new wig for you to try out—redhead this time. Super hot.”

I remembered what Mr. White had advised about making Bo feel bigger. “Can’t wait to try it out.”

He glanced at me. “You’re making fun of me, Prey?”

My stomach tightened. “No. It… it could be fun.”

He glanced at me again. “Fun enough for you to make those noises I like?”

I swallowed and forced out, “Depends on how hard you’ll fuck me.”

He snickered and patted my ass. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you won’t hear me complain.”

We stopped in front of a metal door I remembered too well.

“Shout if he starts to bite.”

“Maybe you should go in with me.”

“Nope. The Director wants this to be a date.”

He unlocked the door, and I hesitantly entered, immediately hit by stuffy air and the foul odor of unwashed skin. Did I ever smell so bad?

Nathan lay on my old, thin mattress, naked and bruised. Some of the marks on his skin seemed fresh and angry, while others were fading. He lay with his back to me, his dark copper hair almost black from being unwashed. Freckles dotted his shoulders and upper back.

Bo shut the door behind me, but it didn’t sound as if he locked it. “Um, hello?”

Nathan slowly turned onto his back, watching me through one eye while the other remained shut tight. “What the fuck do you want?”

Maybe I should have brought water and food to calm him down.

“I came to talk.”

He pushed himself to sit with a grunt, running a hand through his messy hair. “Whatever you’re here to sell, I’m not buying. Get out.”

“I’m not here to sell anything, and you have nothing to lose by hearing me out.”

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall, his knees bent with his cock dangling between them. One of the first things we lost in this place was modesty.

“Did your boyfriend send you to see me?”

“Who?”

“You know who. The one who runs this place. The one you love working for.”

I dug my nails into my palms, telling myself he needed to let some of the rage out. “Yes, The Director sent me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll lie to you.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. Speak.”

“You’re wasting your energy by fighting. They won’t let you go because you’re being difficult—I’ve tried that from this same dirty room.”

“Will they kill me?”

I stalled, not sure what they might do and too afraid to ask. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He shrugged. “That’s one way out of this place.”

“A coward’s way.”

He pursed his lips. “A coward, huh?”

I tensed when he moved to stand, almost losing his balance. “I’m not here to fight,” I said, my nervousness growing. “You have nothing to lose by trying. It will make your life here easier. Maybe someone will end up rescuing us—do you want to be dead for that?”

“Is that the bullshit they’ve been feeding you? Is that why you switched sides?”

“I didn’t switch sides. My life here is also hell.” Though it didn’t feel right claiming that given his dire state.

He took a step toward me. “Doesn’t look like it. You’re gay, right?”

“What? Yes. So what?”

He snorted. “Maybe you asked to come here. Plenty of cocks for you to play with.”

“Fuck you!”

He lunged at me. I didn’t think he could move so fast. His body crashed against mine, smashing my back against the wall. I opened my mouth to call for help, but he blocked it with his dirty hand. “Shut the fuck up. I may be weak, but I can still beat your ass. You get me?”

I nodded, shaking against his naked body. His stench was overwhelming, especially when I could only breathe from my nose.

“You make me sick,” he hissed into my face. “Coming here and trying to mess with my head. What did they promise you to make me play along? A bigger room? A foot massage?”

I shook my head as much as I could.

“You go and tell your boyfriend that—unlike you—I won’t break. They can either let me go or snap my neck. You hear me, little faggot?”

The door opened. I glanced aside with Nathan still blocking my mouth, relieved to see Bo for once in my life.

“Problem?”

Nathan tensed. “I was just telling this little sellout you won’t make me give in.”

Bo shrugged. “Whatever. You’re a pussy, anyway.”

What the hell was he doing?

With his hand still blocking my mouth, Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m a pussy?”

Bo glanced at me. “A real man would’ve beaten the shit out of him instead of throwing empty threats like a bitch.”

I never hated him more than I did right then.

Nathan’s eyes darted from Bo to me. “Are you going to get in my way?”

“Nah, I’ll just watch. I won’t let you kill him, though.”

“I’m not a killer, but I’ll take you up on your offer.”

He removed his hand from my mouth and took a small step back. Before I could try to flee, he sent his fist at the side of my head. Pain exploded, slicing through my skull. I tried to push him back, but he didn’t budge. I had never been in a fight in my life, but I had to do something. I sent my fist at his face, but he brushed it away before I could hit him, retaliating with a knee to my crotch. I gasped and sank to the floor, struggling to breathe.

“Careful with his pretty face.” Bo shut the door behind him. “And don’t rush it. We have time.”