The Bad Life – Chapter 16.2 – The Club

Author: nicotine

<Yeah. But the face he saw then was different from the face of Sergio Terres discovered later as a corpse. Do you get what that means? Christine, do you understand?>

Christine, who had been sitting quietly, answered.

<If the Sergio confronted at the scene and the dead Sergio were different, then the <real> Sergio Terres was someone else.>

<Exactly. Sergio Terres was a sacrificial lamb, in a sense. A scapegoat to hide someone else. That someone else would be the very friend Agent Chapli confronted at the scene.>

Timothy said cheerfully.

A strange silence hung between the three of them. Even though I was staring down at my plate without moving an inch, I felt gazes pricking like needles. Should I raise my head. Should I pretend not to know until the end.

This time too, as if drawn by something, I raised my head. Timothy was propping his chin on the back of his hand and staring at me intently across. When our eyes met, he smiled softly with a face chillingly resembling Hugh. He raised his glass while looking straight at me. With no choice, I raised my glass along with him and drank the third glass of strong wine. After emptying the glass, I deliberately averted my gaze and looked at the employees bringing the dessert. Timothy continued to stare at me piercingly. He said once more in a languid tone.

<There’s someone I don’t know. Outrageously.>

The plates on the table were quickly replaced. As dessert was prepared, this time whiskey was poured into the glasses instead of wine. Thanks to the strong alcohol and dessert, the table took on a cheerful liveliness. From then on, Timothy also mingled words with the other people excluding Jerome and Christine, leading the conversation. His gaze did not return to me again, but I kept my nose buried in the plate without daring to raise my head.

Even though I did not like sweet food, I pretended to focus on the dessert and carefully gauged the situation. When I thought Timothy was sufficiently absorbed in the conversation, I slightly gestured to the employee who had been guarding behind me throughout the meal.

I stood up following the employee. No one stopped me. I felt Timothy’s gaze following, but this time I did not commit the foolish act of looking back. The employee led me out of the salon, through the small room as before, and began walking down the hallway. He guided me to a balcony at a bend in the hallway.

Opening the doors wide to both sides, cool air mixed with the smell of rain rushed in. It was still raining. Only after taking a deep breath did I step into the balcony. The spacious balcony had sofas and stools placed haphazardly, and a few people were sitting smoking cigarettes or drinking champagne while conversing. Unlike at the dinner, no one paid attention to me. Finally, my mind eased.

I plopped down on a sofa at a remote spot and rubbed my face. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. The bra inside the dress shirt felt uncomfortable and suffocating to the point of death. The sensation of it constricting my chest was unfamiliar and unpleasant. Because I had drunk several glasses of wine in a row while extremely tense, my head was dizzy. Fortunately, it was not to the point of not being able to control my body, but… I recalled the rain droplets that had not yet dried clinging to his shoulders. The momentary scene of shiny shoes crossing over the blue and white tiles. His green eyes… Jerome.

Even though only two top-floor boys remained now, over the past eight years, I had consciously avoided those two. It was not that I had become afraid of them now. Since the grudge I harbored against them remained as fresh as yesterday no matter how much time passed, I had not forgotten the past emotions either. It was because I had a premonition that if I met them, I would surely be swayed. I wanted to prepare as much as possible until the inevitable moment of facing them again arrived.

It was the same now. I had only exchanged one glance with Jerome. We had not exchanged a single word, and our eyes had not met again. However, the Jerome I had unwittingly come face to face with had shattered my composure in an instant with just that one glance. If I faced that bastard again like this, I had no confidence I would not be swayed. Nearly ten years had passed. While Simon’s current whereabouts and location could be easily grasped, Jerome was different. After that last night in Leatherham, after the brazen sight of him calmly blowing a hand kiss and waving from beyond the headlight beams, whether he was alive or dead was unknown, and I had not tracked him further. The Jerome I reunited with was in a neat tailcoat I had never seen before, a face that was the one I knew, the one I remembered, yet also not that face.

…It was excessive sentimentality. Excessive. I shook my head and lit a cigarette. Gazing at the scenery outside where rain was pouring, I tried to calm my mind. Thoughts of Jerome had to be set aside for now. The person I needed to think about now was not Jerome but the damned traitor Christopher. That rotten bastard had been remarkably calm even upon seeing Jerome. Judging from the way Timothy warmly welcomed Jerome, their interactions were not of one or two days. Christine must have known that Jerome would appear today, and of course, he had probably met him often before. Why on earth had he not even given a hint about Jerome?

Suppressing the boiling anger, I carefully reviewed the conversations at the dinner table. Christine had said that I had incurred Timothy’s grudge. Because I killed his brother. Looking at Timothy mentioning Sergio Terres today, it seemed he was trying to find not only the perpetrator who killed Hugh but also the one who killed George. And Christine and Jerome, who knew well who the perpetrator was, were pretending not to know and just chiming in. It was a strange feeling. While Christine had his own scheme with Timothy, what about Jerome? If both Jerome and Timothy were members of <The Club>, were they not on the same side?

Something was happening. Timothy, Christine, and even Jerome. There must be a reason why Christine had tried so hard to keep me away.

I tossed the cigarette burned to the filter into the ashtray and stood up. The night was long, and the mansion was vast. First, I decided to explore the party happening in the banquet hall. I did not want to go back to the dining room where the dinner had not yet ended. In fact, that might have been wiser. However, recalling Timothy who had looked straight at me while holding his glass and said <outrageously>, a bad feeling came. No, it was not a feeling but a premonition. It felt like something bad would happen. I had a strong conviction that tonight, I had to avoid both Timothy and Jerome.

I gazed for a moment at the garden that appeared beautifully, yet ominously, shrouded in mist, and then turned my body. I grabbed a passing employee and asked for the location of the banquet hall, then went down to the lower floor. Following the guidance, the grand banquet hall where Christine and I had briefly stopped soon appeared.

The banquet hall was noisy and bustling with the modern performance of the orchestra, people dancing, and the noise of people conversing. It was a much more comfortable atmosphere than the suffocating dinner table. I took a champagne glass from an employee carrying a tray and mingled into the crowd of people. First, I decided to find out the purpose of this party. Since surely not all these many people had come for <The Club>, I thought this party would not be different from an ordinary party.

Looking around haphazardly, I spotted a man sitting alone at a table, yawning as if bored. He might want to be alone, but he might need a conversation partner, so without hesitation, I approached him and plopped down in the seat next to him.

When I spoke, the man nodded lightly without much reluctance and replied.

<I’m dying of boredom. The party, the orchestra performance.>

<It’s boring to dance… but not bad to listen while conversing.>

<Hmm.>

I offered him champagne, but he just looked at it without taking it. Smiling, I added.

The man widened his eyes and looked at me, then soon chuckled and took the glass.

<That’s Shostakovich. I actually like it, but I’m just being grumpy because the person to dance with disappeared somewhere. Sorry.>

<Ah, you came with a companion?>

<Yes. He said he’d be right back after seeing someone he knows briefly, but there’s no sign of him. So I was sitting here alone, abandoned, envying the people dancing.>

<Teddy.>

Because he offered a handshake, the first name that came to mind was Teddy. Swallowing a sigh, I shook hands and then casually threw out bait.

<Actually, I was at the host’s dinner.>

Jamie asked in surprise. I nodded.

<No, why?>

<Yes. The two of them were so affectionate, and since I was at the end seat anyway, but still, I couldn’t help but notice.>

<It’s not a refined taste, but he’s famous for being devoted in his own way. What on earth is the Dunwell family doing, one died like that and the other chases after a cross-dressing man….>

Jamie, who had bitten the bait, rattled off the gossip he knew. It was a good opportunity, so I sat close to him and chimed in enthusiastically.

<Exactly. At the dinner, sitting there was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t even finish the dessert….>

The voice cutting off my words from behind made me turn around absentmindedly. There stood Jerome with a smiling face. I almost jumped up from my seat in surprise.

<…….>

Jerome, who casually spoke, placed his hand on my shoulder as if intimately and stared at Jamie. In that short moment, Carl and James flashed through my mind. Without realizing, I abruptly stood up.

<Hello.>

Jerome naturally requested a handshake like flowing water. Jamie shook hands with Jerome without any particular meaning and greeted him. Not knowing the circumstances, he even slightly moved aside as if to make a seat for Jerome to sit. Fortunately, instead of sitting, Jerome turned and stared at me intently. The face I had faced after nearly ten years, I had no choice but to gaze at blankly.

While staring endlessly at Jerome’s face, my mind suddenly sharpened. There must be a reason why Jerome, who had pretended not to know me in front of Timothy, had come all the way to the banquet hall risking danger. Watching me hesitate for a moment, Jerome suddenly grabbed my wrist tightly.

<It’s urgent, so let’s go first.>

Without time to reply, Jerome nodded at Jamie.

<Oh, of course. Go ahead, Teddy.>

Jamie replied readily. He seemed to just want to escape this awkward situation.

Jerome strode away before Jamie could even finish speaking. I gave Jamie a brief nod and then followed, half-dragged along. I glared at Jerome’s hand gripping my wrist. A long time had passed. I was no longer the boy from back then. I roughly shook off Jerome’s hand. Jerome turned around but did not grab my wrist again. I obediently followed behind the walking him.

Jerome leisurely wove through the crowds of people enjoying the party and exited the banquet hall. We passed countless salons where people were resting and bustling hallways where employees came and went. Jerome moved his feet without hesitation, as if he knew this mansion well. As soon as there were fewer people around, Jerome turned his body and tightly grabbed my arm. He abruptly opened any door in the hallway and entered. We strode past one or two rooms ― all empty ― and finally entered a certain room, where he closed the door. Turning around, Jerome released my arm as if throwing it away and put about three or four steps of distance between us. Finally, we could face each other in a silent place with no interfering gazes or noises.

My villain, my monster, my lover, whom I reunited with after turning thirty, stood facing me as a completely ripened mature man. The reptilian eyes glaring at me, barely blinking, shone with a depth and unfamiliarity even greater than in the past. Jerome, standing with his hands behind his back and elegantly holding his neck high, was remarkably flustered. A man who burst into laughter in any situation ― even in the moment when I strangled his neck ― was visibly disconcerted just because of reuniting with me.

In the profound silence where even breathing sounds were absent, finally Jerome opened his mouth with eyes trembling faintly.

<…….>

<I’ll arrange a car, so leave right now. And don’t come back.>

I stared at Jerome intently. When the silence and tension swelled to the point where it could not expand further, laughter burst out of me. The uncontrollable laughter made me grab the nearby chair. Bending my waist hunched over and clutching the armrest of the chair, I laughed heartily for a long time before finally raising my head. Jerome was standing crookedly with a pale face, silently watching me. I did not miss the deep embarrassment flashing across his face once more.

Without taking my eyes off the bastard, I strode toward him. Jerome flinched slightly and pulled his body back a bit, but I seized his collar tightly and roughly pushed him against the wall. Despite my fierce attitude, Jerome did not even twitch an eyebrow and just looked at me.

<It’s been a long time, but you don’t even ask how I’ve been.>

With a distorted face, I pulled only the corner of my mouth and smirked. Jerome just blinked silently. Bringing my face close to his, I whispered.

Slowly… in the green eyes that had been frozen with embarrassment, slowly vitality returned. No. It was not vitality but madness. I stared intently into the pupils that were finally overlaid with the familiar hue. Jerome gently covered the hand gripping his collar. His beautiful eyes completely sank into the familiar madness, and his blood-red lips split wide. With a flawless ecstatic smile, he tilted his head toward me. In that instant, a chill ran down my nape like electricity flowing, and a shiver coursed through my spine…. Locking eyes obsessively with madness staining them, Jerome kissed me.

In my memory, his tongue was cold ― just like his hands always felt like ice. However, Jerome’s tongue licking my lips slowly was hot and persistent. I obediently opened my mouth and freely tangled my tongue with Jerome’s without hesitation. The tip of the man’s nose pressing against my cheek, and the icy cold hand now gripping my jaw, even a certain perfume wafted up. I recall the last sight of Jerome from eight years ago. Standing at the roadside leaving Leatherham, he blew a hand kiss as if seeing off a departing lover. From that moment until now, I had been waiting. For Jerome, for Simon, waiting for the day to meet them again and plunge them into the mud to suffocate them!

I bit Jerome’s lips savagely as if tearing off flesh. Blood welled up and filled my mouth. The smell of blood was thick. Jerome turned his head while exhaling hot breath. As soon as our lips parted, he gripped my wrist painfully tight and spun his body, so this time I was the one pushed against the wall. We glared at each other nose to nose. Blood dripped steadily from Jerome’s lips, staining the fine shirt of his tailcoat messily.

Even with blood dripping, Jerome’s lips bore a joyful smile as he asked.

Swallowing the pooled blood in my mouth, I bared my teeth and laughed. Surely my teeth were stained red with his blood, glistening like a beast’s.

Jerome whispered in a lowered voice.

The moment I mentioned Timothy, Jerome’s smiling face became somewhat awkward. Suddenly, he released his hand from me and stepped back several paces. Rubbing the wrist that had been gripped tightly, I looked across at Jerome. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking down at the blood-soaked back of his hand, Jerome muttered.

<Raymond….>

In the voice calling my name, I felt a strange joy and longing, so I looked deeply into him.

<Raymond, I’m glad to see you. I didn’t expect to meet you again….>

Jerome rubbed the white shirt where blood droplets had fallen with his fingertips. I observed him silently. Jerome tilted his head and gazed at me thoughtfully. In that moment, an indescribable ominous feeling surged over me. It was as if there was a man there that I did not know well. The boy I knew, the madman waving from the window with flames roaring, blowing a hand kiss from beyond the headlights, seemed to have become someone I did not know after eight years.

<Go, Raymond. Run away. Just like in Bluebell, in Leatherham.>

<…….>

At the moment those words ended, I could give no explanation for the despair that violently shook my body. It just felt like the ground beneath my feet caved in, endlessly falling into some underworld. I had imagined and feared a Jerome who would no longer chase me, a Jerome who had lost interest in me. I tightly shut my mouth and glared at Jerome.

At that moment, seeing the expression Jerome made, I unwittingly felt relieved. Because I realized that Jerome was swept up in shock and confusion just as much as I was. This sudden reunion was something I had not imagined either. But Jerome seemed not just unimaginable but plunged into shock to the point of not even knowing what expression he was making. The face that had calmly laughed even while being strangled and punched by me was now so pale that the blood had drained, not smiling but with a tense, rigid face, scrutinizing my complexion.

Captured by pure curiosity, I asked.

<…….>

And then, completely unexpectedly, Jerome nodded. Silence hung. Staring intently at his lips from which blood still faintly flowed, finally I nodded readily.

<Yeah… that’s how it is. Good.>

I said without taking my eyes off Jerome. Instead of replying, he licked the bleeding lips with his tongue.

<I’ll leave.>

<…….>

Jerome’s face, tangled in confusion, changed to an expressionless one impossible to read. I glared piercingly at the bastard standing without reply, as if wearing a mask.

<We’ve done enough, so let’s end it. I won’t chase you anymore, so back off, that’s what you’re saying? Right?>

I smirked and took one large step toward Jerome.

<Jerome. If you want to end it, then end it. But I….>

I took one more step closer to the bastard. Jerome just looked at me without moving. I unhesitatingly cupped the tip of his jaw where blood had dried. His expressionless face intrigued me. I felt like I could pay any price if I could distort this face. I slowly traced the bleeding man’s lips with my thumb. The lips stiffened with tension were distinctly felt at my fingertips.

The silence had already answered everything.

Then tonight, I would definitely set foot in that <The Club>. Facing Timothy, whom I had avoided due to a fearful premonition, I would reveal that the <outrageous> person he sought, the <mystery person> Jerome had pretended not to know and hidden, was me.

I lightly pushed Jerome’s face and turned my body. As I stepped out the door, Jerome said from behind in a whisper.

Holding the doorknob, I turned to look at Jerome.

Premonition or whatever, it no longer mattered. What Jerome was hiding, avoiding, was exactly what I wanted. The key to toppling Jerome. The thing Jerome feared. If I met Timothy, if I went to <The Club>, I was convinced I could find it out. I flung the door open violently and dashed out of our small room for two.

The grand banquet hall I returned to was still bustling with a lively atmosphere. Like when I first came with Christine, I climbed the long staircase of the grand banquet hall. Leaving behind the noisy hall where the party was in full swing, climbing the stairs alone covered with pitch-black carpet felt like ascending the Styx against the current. Having properly discarded the chance to survive, I was crossing the black river of my own accord. Without knowing what would happen on the other side, without any fear.

Even knowing that Jerome was following slowly at a distance, I did not look back. It was a strange feeling that if I turned around, I would be led by Jerome’s hand and unable to climb these stairs again. The one who always led me to hell, to dreams of death, was Jerome, but ironically, at this moment, he felt like the only chance for salvation that could return me to life.

This time, I slowly retraced alone the path I had taken with Christine. The splendid Italian-style salon where the dinner had been held was empty. Only the utterly vacant table remained forlornly. At the far side of that salon was a door painted pure white. It had been an ordinary door that I had not even noticed during the dinner. Now it was different. In front of the door stood two men in suits wearing masks, standing like statues. I approached them without hesitation. I was convinced that door led to the secret.

The one wearing a cat mask tilted his head and looked at me for a moment, then soon took out a mask from his bosom and handed it to me. It was a rabbit mask. I realized it was the mask Timothy had prepared for me. At the same time, I recalled Christine’s advice not to wear the rabbit mask. But I had no intention of avoiding Timothy. Silently, I took the mask and put it on backwards. Only then did the cat mask open the pure white painted door. Beyond the door stretched a narrow hallway lit by candlelight. As I stepped into the hallway, the door closed silently behind me.

Along with a low voice, a hand reached over my shoulder. In the hand was simply a mask painted only white. With only eye holes drilled, it was dry and hollow. Jerome arbitrarily removed the rabbit mask from my face and mercilessly crumpled it before stuffing it into his pocket. With no choice, I put on the white mask, crossed the narrow hallway, and grabbed the white doorknob at the end of the hallway. At the moment of turning the doorknob, a sudden regret welled up that I should have at least said goodbye to Faye and Allen.

The place I entered after opening the door was an old-fashioned room with waltz music flowing, and a group of people playing a game immediately caught my eye. Men in suits wearing white masks like me surrounded the roulette table, shaking their fists and shouting. Some among them looked at us who had just opened the door and entered. However, their gazes on us lasted only a moment. A large cheer erupted from the roulette table, drawing everyone’s attention. The men in white masks waved number plates and made a huge fuss.

I also approached closely and peeked into the table, but it was just an ordinary gaming table with nothing particularly eye-catching. It seemed they had won at the game and were shouting. I turned my body after seeing the dealer push round red chips carved from marble toward the group that had cheered. After entering the room, Jerome had put some distance but continued to follow behind me. I did not bother shaking him off and thoroughly examined the interior.

The <The Club> we entered through the white door was quite different from what I had imagined. To be honest, because I had envisioned something like a jaw-dropping lewd orgy party, I felt somewhat bewildered.

<The Club> was so ordinary that it even seemed boring. Leaving the room with the gaming tables spread out, the sight of gentlemen in suits and cross-dressing men in evening dresses gathered in clusters in a small banquet hall, dancing or conversing, appeared. People sitting at the bar were talking with the bartender while drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana. When I crossed to another room, in one place people were watching a soccer match on screens filling the walls, and in another room, people gathered to play card games or enjoy tea parties. In each salon, there were gaming tables with dealers, where they also played baccarat, blackjack, or poker. Excluding the open drug use, when lightly looking around, it was not much different from the social parties happening outside.

However, the outside social party and <The Club> were similar yet different in every way. First, there were no women in <The Club>. Whether splendidly dressed gentlemen, cross-dressing men, or employees, it was all men. The masks varied, but they seemed to have some rules. For example, the bartenders, dealers at the gaming tables, and employees carrying trays of finger foods and champagne all wore animal masks. Masks depicting animal heads like cats, raccoons, parrots, tigers, deer, and so on, diverse without any overlaps. The other gentlemen wore white masks with only eye holes like mine. Cross-dressing men added various decorations to the white masks.

Was this not just a simple masked ball? The more I looked around, the more I doubted whether this was <The Club> or just one of the various parties held in the grand mansion. I glanced at Jerome as if to confirm, but he was standing slightly away from me, calmly drinking champagne. Wearing the same white mask as me, he peeked at me through the eye holes and then completely turned his head away.

Startled by the sudden voice addressing me, I turned to the side. A gentleman wearing a white mask like mine was standing holding a wine glass. The hair visible beyond the mask was light blonde. The gentleman approached my side amicably and stood there.

While replying, I glanced at Jerome. Jerome by the window was half-turned as if not knowing me, pretending to look at the outside scenery.

<I’m still a bit bewildered.>

At my reply, the eyes of the gentleman beyond the mask curved softly as if smiling.

<Don’t do that, at least give a hint.>

The masked gentleman said with a pretentious air.

<Ah, then four coming out means….>

As soon as his words ended, a cheer erupted from the far side of the room. The masked gentleman said <Let’s go.> gladly and hurriedly moved his steps. It was not just that man. People sitting at the bar, holding tea parties, or playing card games in the rooms all rose at once. A crowd of people flocked to the salon with the roulette table. I also mingled into their midst.

In front of the roulette table, a white-masked man rolling a red chip between his fingers was surrounded by people. He elegantly bowed to the cheering and applauding crowd. Then, he took out a business card from his bosom and handed it to the game dealer along with the red chip. The dealer looked at the business card and nodded briefly before disappearing from his seat.

Amid the murmuring people, a familiar voice came. Hugh… no, it was Timothy. Startled, I scanned the crowd swarming the roulette table. Among the white masks who had participated in the game, one was noticeably regretful.

<It’s a guest I invited myself. But that’s strange. Why isn’t he visible?>

Even though I was wearing the white mask Jerome gave me, cold sweat trickled down. I quickly turned my body and burrowed into the crowd to hide. I was mixed in among them like an oil droplet falling into a glass of water, yet not mixed, listening to the chattering voices from all directions. As time passed, I could feel the crowd’s atmosphere gradually heating up with excitement.

The people were excited. Alone in their midst, I froze coldly and was overwhelmed by the fierce and sinister atmosphere that had instantly seized the crowd. The secretive guests of <The Club> all gathered in the salon with the roulette table, exciting themselves imagining some conspiracy I did not know. No one thought of leaving that place. They all seemed to be waiting for something. Something thrilling, like, for example, an event….

<It’s here!>

Someone shouted. People’s gazes all turned toward the door at once. Footsteps sounded from the hallway beyond the door. Ordinary footsteps, neither fast nor slow. Soon, someone opened the door without hesitation and entered. The man who entered through the door was, coincidentally, the very person I had approached in the grand banquet hall to pry some information from. The gentleman named Jamie who had been sitting alone, sulky while waiting for his companion. Jamie was not wearing a mask. He was exactly as I had met him in the first-floor grand banquet hall. He opened the door and entered, then stopped with a flustered expression.

Because all the masked men filling the salon looked at him at once. The people who had been so boisterous shut their mouths as if by agreement and observed Jamie intently. In the perfect silence, the masked men all turned their bodies toward Jamie and stared piercingly at him. Jamie stood with a greatly flustered expression, gauging the situation.

The next moment, the masked men burst into laughter all at once.

<Wh-what….>

Clutching the doorknob, Jamie stood blankly, unable to advance or retreat. I too empathized with him, flinching at how bizarre and frightening this scene must be to him right now. The sight of white-masked gentlemen suddenly bursting into breathless laughter while standing and facing him was not an everyday occurrence one could encounter ordinarily. Jamie froze, overwhelmed by the bizarre appearance of the salon. The expression that had been startled gradually colored with fear.

The moment when Jamie, crushed by terror, suddenly snapped to his senses was clearly visible even to my eyes. That meant it was equally obvious to the white-masked men. The instant Jamie turned his body to flee into the hallway, the white-masked men swarmed like a swarm of bees. From the far end of the hallway, Jamie’s wailing cry echoed.

A savagely tearing scream sounded. The scream that wildly echoed through the hallway and spread to the salon finally drew closer little by little. Jamie, who had run to the far end of the hallway, was dragged into the salon… into <The Club>.

The screaming and rampaging sounds pierced my ears. Excited men nearby pushed through people to see the sight directly. In the midst of being pushed and shoved by the crowd, my stomach felt like it was freezing cold. I tried to step back to escape the throng, but it was useless. Because all the other people were moving forward, forward only to see Jamie. Wedged in the crowd, I was helplessly pushed toward the front. My insides churned as if I would vomit. Suddenly, the masked face felt suffocating to the point of madness. The bra secretly worn inside the suit tightly constricted my chest. When I was finally pushed forward by the people and could see Jamie, his screaming sounds continued without stopping, shaking the salon.

<Stop! Stop, please! Kh, kuh! Please! Please!>

White-masked men grabbed Jamie’s ankles and dragged him across the carpet. Jamie desperately thrashed his legs and tried to clutch the carpet somehow with his fingertips, but it was useless. His suit jacket was pushed up, and the shirt hem neatly tucked into his pants came loose. His carefully styled hair became a mess. Jamie, captured by terror, cried and pleaded.

My heart pounded madly. My legs trembled as if they would give way. My fists kept clenching, so I had no choice but to shove my hands into my pockets. Fortunately, the mask covered my face. Otherwise, these bastards would have seen my face losing composure entirely. The men dragging Jamie approached the crowd of people. Jamie, sprawled and dragged along, flailed to grab at least someone’s ankles. People stepped back to taunt him or stomped the floor with their feet to try to crush his hands. There were even people kicking Jamie’s face.

The room was filled with madness, and the noisy sounds of bursting laughter and shouting made it impossible to keep one’s sanity. Jamie was being trampled wildly by the people and gradually drawing closer to me. I pushed against the people to somehow escape my spot, but I could not. Because all the others were bloodshot-eyed to trample Jamie’s hand at least once. Inevitably, Jamie came right up to my nose. I hurriedly tried to pull my foot away, but Jamie seized my ankle tightly. With his face smeared with tears and blood, he cried out.

Like the other gentlemen, I had to step on his hand. I had to shake off Jamie’s hand or mercilessly kick his face. I had to spit on his tear-streaked face and shower him with mockery. But I could not. I could not do that. I could not dare to do that.

I stood frozen like a statue, looking down at Jamie. The people who had been bursting into raucous laughter, whistling, and cursing gradually fell silent. I faced the exact same scene as when Jamie first entered the salon. The white-masked gentlemen stopped what they were doing and stared piercingly at me all at once. Jamie at my feet clung desperately to my leg, sobbing. The men who had been dragging Jamie also stopped their feet and turned their white-masked faces toward me. Right now, I had to kick him. More cruelly than anyone, I had to crush Jamie’s face.

I could not do that.

Someone broke the silence.

A cheerful and lively voice. Hugh’s voice. Even knowing it was Timothy, I kept recalling Hugh and flinched. The brisk voice from beyond the crowd slowly parted the throng. Through the people parting to both sides, a white-masked gentleman leisurely pushed through. Even with the mask on, I could not not know it was that man, Timothy.

The crowd kept silent and gathered in a circle around me, Timothy, and Jamie in the center. Panting under the pressure, I looked at Timothy. The moment my gripped ankle became free, Jamie crawled toward me on all fours and hugged my legs with both arms, sobbing. To him, I was the only lifeline. Timothy tilted his head and looked straight at me.

Timothy said slowly.

<…….>

I lowered my head and looked down at Jamie. Could I escape with him. It was impossible.

I just looked at Timothy silently. Our eyes met beyond the masks, the deep blue ones. We stared at each other quietly.

Without any warning, the men standing behind me lunged all at once. Caught in the too sudden attack, I was defenselessly seized by the arms and could not move. I knew well from Jamie just moments ago that struggling would be useless. As I stood still, Timothy came right up to my nose. He untied the neatly knotted bow tie around my neck and tossed it to the floor, then grabbed the shirt with both hands and roughly tore it apart. The slightly loose shirt Christine had given me tore apart in an instant. Knowing what I was wearing under that shirt, I desperately twisted my body, but the men behind pulled my arms to the limit and held me immobile.

Through the torn shirt, a light pink bra with ornate lace was revealed. With no breasts to fill the cups, the bra hung somewhat loosely around my chest. Silence flowed. Timothy slipped his hand under the bra and lightly tugged then released the strap. The bra strap slapped against my chest with a smack sound.

<Well, well, it seems there was a surprise event I didn’t know about?>

The eyes of Timothy beyond the mask curved softly with laughter.

<Don’t be scared and tell me. Who gave you that mask?>

I did not answer.

The price came back quickly. Timothy suddenly reached out and roughly seized the mask, tearing it off. The mask that had suffocatingly covered my face was stripped away in an instant and crumpled wretchedly in Timothy’s grasp. Timothy smirked.

<…….>

<Ill-mannered bastards need to be tamed with beatings.>

I thought it was a phrase that gave a sense of déjà vu. The thought did not continue long. As soon as Timothy’s words fell, the men standing beside me seized my hair and yanked me back, slamming me to the floor. A white-masked man leaning toward me whispered roughly.

The men’s hands swarmed over me all at once. Countless hands that could not be numbered pinned down my limbs, slipped into the bra to roughly knead and pinch the hard chest with only muscles attached. Even though it hurt and I wanted to twist my body, I could not. Rather than shame, fear was overwhelmingly dominant. So many… I had never even thought about it, the hands groping over my body were too… too many. The hands heated with arousal crawled over my body like bugs, kneading, pinching, and clawing indiscriminately. There were so many hands that it made me want to vomit. I saw the numerous masks looking down at me while I was pinned to the carpet. There were too many. Amid the pale masks, eyeballs gleaming blue with lust were rolled back.

<Huh, st-stop, ugh. Uhmp!>

Even into the mouth that weakly muttered words of resistance, fingers entered. Because several fingers indiscriminately pried open, my mouth stretched to its limit. The fingers entering the mouth and stirring wildly and causing chaos came from different hands each. They twisted my nose, pulled my hair, and even shoved fingers into my ears. No matter how much I tried to thrash, there were too many hands suppressing my body to escape. There were so many hands that I could not even properly feel where and how I was being touched. They pulled my nipples, painfully pressed with nails, and then rubbed my chest with the bra. The shirt and suit jacket were torn to shreds and disappeared by the countless hands. At first, the hands groping my legs over the pants finally began to remove my shoes, socks, and pants. No, rather than removed, they were torn off. The hands indiscriminately grabbed and pulled the pants, ripping them to pieces and throwing them away. The white-masked men who saw my exposed lower body burst into loud laughter.

Someone grabbed the panty strap and pulled then released with a smack, laughing. Amid the giggling laughter, a voice that spoke affectionately as if it were cute reached my ears.

As soon as a rough, hoarse voice said that, countless hands swarmed and spread my legs wide to both sides.

They did not take off the panties but pulled them aside and exposed my genitals. They played with the genitals as they pleased and painfully tugged the balls. I twisted my body wildly, but it was still useless. I could not even make a sound. My mouth was full of fingers, causing dry heaves, and my lips were torn, but no one removed the fingers.

Screams began to sound nearby again. The screams repeated far and near. It must be Jamie. They were circling the salon with him again. It felt like my mind would snap. I could not read the expressions of the masked men. My vision gradually blurred. Only hands, an enormous number of hands, suppressed my entire body. Fear crushed my lungs. Gasping and shaking my head, my head was seized. Tears welled up fully. The hands clinging between my spread legs began to indiscriminately prod the hole. Cold and sticky gel was sprayed wildly, soaking my lower body thoroughly. I was being gang-raped. They would rape me as they pleased and beat me to submission. Again. Again like this, up to here, again… At that moment, the fingers that had been indiscriminately prodding and spreading the hole suddenly withdrew all at once.

With fearful eyes, I looked at the men. They abruptly lifted me up and dragged me across the carpet. When I was thrown down, Jamie was collapsed in front of me. His once neat face was covered in blood, and dressed in rags, he sobbed and wailed.

A masked man approached us and said.

The unfamiliar man’s voice was sweet.

<Doesn’t matter who penetrates whom. I’ll let the one penetrating go.>

When I suddenly raised my head, the men stood encircling us, their pale masks gleaming shiny. Their crotches were bulging tautly. I felt like vomiting.

Jamie was not in his right mind. He seemed not to have understood what the man said. On the other hand, for me, the moment I heard the man’s words, my mind snapped awake. The sensations dominating my body were no longer clearly distinguishable as fear or shame. My limbs trembled wildly as I looked around at the white-masked men. Even trying to suppress the trembling was useless. My mouth still had no sensation. The men were boisterous. They conversed among themselves and laughter occasionally burst out, but I could not make out what they were saying. Looking blankly around at the masked men, my gaze stopped at one place.

The man wearing a white mask adorned with splendid decorations was dressed in the familiar black evening dress. I could tell who he was. We stared piercingly at each other for a moment. Christopher turned his body and disappeared into the crowd.

<Hic, h-heuk, h-heuaagh….>

Turning my head at the sound of gasping sobs, Jamie was collapsed crying. I blankly looked around once more at Jamie and the people surrounding us.

If this was <The Club>. If Christopher had also gone through all of this, and only by doing so could one know about <The Club>, then the person who had to remain here was rightfully me. Not Jamie. If someone had to be raped, that person had to be me. I was someone who could endure it. I was someone who deserved to be like that. Because I was a person who could no longer fall further, a vulgar character, and a promiscuous and vulgar human who found pleasure in gang-rape, if I had to be thrown into filth, I had to willingly throw myself in.

I approached Jamie and mounted him. The men whistled and jeered. Jamie looked up at me, crying and terrified. He shook his head. Looking at his pleading face, I unzipped Jamie’s pants. It seemed he had soiled himself while being dragged and assaulted by the men. A foul smell rose, but I held my breath and sucked Jamie’s genitals.

Jamie burst into tears amid terror. The men mocked and jeered at us. Jamie could not get erect. No matter how hard I sucked, because of fear, he just cried like a child and weakly writhed his body. I pulled down my panties and rubbed his genitals with my buttocks to somehow make him hard, but it was useless. I had to put his genitals inside me. Only then could Jamie escape. But Jamie only pushed me away, saying to stop. It would only end up looking like I was raping him.

Suddenly, my nape was seized and dragged back. The men pulled me away from Jamie and threw me to the floor.

The men said cheerfully. I clung to that man.

The man mocked. I grabbed and clung to his pant leg.

The man squatted in front of me and met my eyes. My words stuck in my throat. I just looked at him blankly. When I could not reply, the man stood up. Behind the man, Jamie was once again surrounded by white masks. Someone grabbed Jamie’s hair and spun him around. Jamie flailed his arms wildly and crawled on his knees following the man pulling him. However, their number was only a few, and the numerous masked men were looking at me. Waiting for my answer. I looked up at the man as obediently and stupidly as possible.

<I… like that kind of thing. I came here to do… that kind of thing.>

Kneeling, I rubbed my cheek against the man’s crotch and looked up at the white-masked face.

The man did not answer. Instead, he stroked me rubbing my cheek against his pant crotch. Gently stroking my hair and forehead, he said kindly. The man’s voice still had a trace of laughter. I felt the man’s erect genitals against my cheek.

I tilted my head back, trying to meet the man’s eyes, and replied. Jamie’s tearing scream sounded.

The man laughed, touched my cheek, and then abruptly stepped back one step.

The man who stepped back suddenly kicked my chest fiercely with his foot. Breath caught in my throat. As soon as I toppled backward, white masks swarmed. They laughed and lifted me up. My hair was seized and dragged, slamming me onto the roulette table. The men pinned me firmly on the table and gripped my hair to force my head up. From behind, the men said.

One man gagged my mouth and asked. My mouth gaped open, drool dripping steadily, and I shook my head wildly. The masks behind laughed. The laughter tickled my earlobes.

Someone leaned in from behind. A man pressing his body close to my back whispered.

Gagged, I wailed. I twisted my body, but it was useless. Too many hands held me. They seemed to find it amusing that I convulsed like a madman. They seemed to enjoy watching my crying face and hearing my pleas. The masked people pointed fingers at Jamie and me while watching, laughed, spat saliva, poured alcohol, crushed our faces with hands, and rampaged while filming our state with smartphones.

Jamie, who had been dragged around amid the people, finally stopped in front of the roulette table. He was now exhausted, trembling convulsively and just crying. Bloodstains from Jamie soiled the carpet in spots. The men tore off his clothes and spread his buttocks. I could not bear to look. I did not want to see. My hair was seized, and I could not turn my head. When I closed my eyes, a kind voice reached my ear.

Trembling in fear, I opened my eyes. The masked men were pouring alcohol on Jamie. They spread his legs and stomped his crotch with feet. Stripped naked, Jamie’s eyes rolled back as if completely deranged, his body just flopping. I had to watch the men gang-rape Jamie to the end. If I closed my eyes even for a moment, someone twisted my nose and pulled my cheek to force my eyes open. Jamie finally fainted. The fainted he was discarded like a doll with cut strings.

The men turned their masked faces toward me. The bra was torn by their hands. Unfamiliar men’s genitals violated below. Several times. If I tried to crawl away to escape, they let me do so. They let me crawl a little then grabbed my ankle and dragged me back to rape me. The men played with me like a toy. They prodded behind wildly then suddenly lost interest and let me flee to the wall if I did. If I hid trembling behind the curtain, they stood in front casually drinking and chatting, then suddenly like madmen tore the curtain and dragged me out, circling the room while gang-raping me. They laughed and chattered among themselves while filming such scenes with smartphones.

By then, much time had passed, and the people gradually became indifferent to us, and at some point, no one touched us. The men went to other rooms, sat at the bar drinking, or lounged leisurely on sofas resting. Jamie and I were left abandoned under the roulette table. Jamie did not regain consciousness. Lying next to him, who lay like a corpse unconscious, I lay on my side. From the far edge of my vision, I quietly watched black shoes approaching. The shoes drew closer and closer and stopped in front of me. A white-masked man squatted in front of me.

The man swept back the hair tangled messily with semen.

<Foolish, Raymond.>

Looking at the green eyes beyond the mask, finally I lost consciousness.

Whether dream or reality, rain sounds echoed throughout. The clear sound like raindrops falling right by my ear made me think even half-asleep that there must be a glass window by the bedside. I was delirious all night. Darkness was always before my eyes. I could not distinguish if my eyes were open or closed, just floating suffocatingly with the boiling fever. When my groaning grew louder, a cold hand suddenly touched my forehead beaded with cold sweat. Yielding my face to the hand caressing my high-fevered cheek and wiping the sweat from my forehead, a pair of eyes would appear in the darkness. Eyes like an alligator rising from a swamp, the ones I encountered on the shore of <Kelly>, in the forest of Leatherham, a pair of eyes gleaming reptilianly.

Those eyes said in a voice I did not know.

The cold hand covered my eyelids. The rain sounds by my ear gradually faded away.

Author's Thoughts

There are numerous stimulating scenes involving rape, gang rape, violence, abuse, and drugs. Please practice discretion as you proceed.

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