A deranged man who likes to call himself the Director kidnaps a teenage boy and girl to be his actors. He expects them to perform the six acts of his play without messing up once, or else harrowing pain awaits them.
🥇1st place / The Cosmic Awards
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NATHAN DIDN'T EVEN want to know anymore. A result of either pride or dread, but he wasn't about to beg Adelaide to spit out whatever she had in mind.
So he just sat there. And in the silence, the throb pulsing along his skull was more torturous than ever, as if he had nothing to do but feel the pain.
"Nate?"
Nathan didn't answer Adelaide, didn't even move a muscle. He hoped she'd catch the hint.
"I feel like you're gonna punch me if I say this, but . . . " Adelaide's eyes must've been watching Nathan; he felt the weight without even looking. "Can I, uh, apologize one more time? I know you said you don't want me to but I feel horrible and—"
Nathan let out a loud and exasperated sigh. Then he said, "Some turtles breathe through their genitals."
"Alright. I'll shut up." Adelaide smiled slightly. "Where do you even learn this stuff?"
Nathan just shrugged, only to regret the action because it hurt enough for him to wince. Adelaide didn't say anything else, probably deciding to acknowledge his exhaustion and stop tormenting him with apologies.
Thoughts crept back into Nathan's head, and it took him three minutes to conjure enough energy to speak again. "When I fainted," he said. "What did the Director do? I mean, how did he react? Was he worried or what?"
"More like panicked." Adelaide squinted, and it made her look like she had bad eyesight too, except she was doing it for recollection. "I don't know. He seemed panicked to me. Like he got carried away, or like what he did wasn't supposed to happen."
Nathan frowned. He wouldn't tell Adelaide, but the first thing he thought of again was that the Director hadn't wanted him to die—not right then and there, at least. Carried away. Sounded about right.
Slumping further against the wall, Nathan shifted a little to his side but accidentally poked the bruise along his ribs and groaned as quietly as possible. He couldn't even move anymore without feeling a twinge.
Maybe this was a punishment—everything happening. For every lie, every broken promise, every selfish wish he'd ever had. Sure they weren't drastic but grouped together they could loom. Justice wasn't exactly a definite thing; scales were hundreds of kinds, but they weighed the same shit in the end.
"Careful," Adelaide said, holding Nathan's wrist and extending his arm in a way that didn't pressure the plastered wound.
Nathan hadn't even noticed he'd curved his arm. He didn't really react, but he gave Adelaide a small questioning look. Something like, why do you care that much? but he doubted she'd catch it.
