The Bad Life – Chapter 18.2 – The Monster’s Mask

Author: nicotine

<…….>

Jerome, keeping his slanted posture, only slightly turned his head to look down at Teddy. Jerome asked in a cynical voice.

<…….>

This time, Jerome asked. Instead of answering, I looked at Jerome with the white mask flipped over his head and Teddy with the blunt bear head flipped over his. It was a somewhat awkward situation. I had never even thought that the day would come when I would have to introduce Jerome and Teddy to each other. Even if I were to introduce them, what on earth could I say to introduce them?

<So… that guy is….>

I opened my mouth first, but I had nothing to say. While I was lost in thought, trying to find words to explain, Teddy stepped forward one step.

When I asked in disbelief, Teddy retorted shamelessly.

<…….>

Teddy asked in his characteristic thug-like manner of speaking. Jerome, stroking his chin with his white-gloved hand while watching us, answered.

<I’m the princess of your leech.>

Not only Teddy but even I was at a loss for words and stared at Jerome intently. As for Jerome himself, with a brazen attitude, he turned his head toward me and began questioning one by one.

I silently turned my head toward Christopher. Christopher, with his limbs bound to the toilet, was still unconscious and slumped over. Jerome strode over and closed the stall door, blocking my view. Standing with his back to the door, Jerome said stiffly.

<Raymond, you go find Simon before it’s too late. If Simon comes into <The Club>, you won’t be able to find him because of the mask. And as for you over there… continue with what you were doing.>

<…What if I don’t want to?>

I retorted challengingly. Jerome simply looked at me with his face covered by the white mask flipped over, saying nothing. Without avoiding his gaze, I asked coldly.

Jerome did not answer. Instead, he suddenly took off his mask. As if tired, he rubbed his face with his palm and looked at me slantingly. He was wearing a cynical smile that I had never seen before. It was a smile that seemed like mockery.

<…….>

I could not say that Simon had ignored me. It was because I had realized that Jerome was trying to rescue Christopher. He had pretended otherwise, but in the end, Jerome’s purpose was to rescue Christopher. While I used Simon to draw Timothy’s attention, he had stayed in this place all along to rescue Christopher during the moment when the surveillance became lax.

Jerome swept back his hair and put on the mask again. With his expressionless white face, he said.

Whether Simon ignored me or not, I had to stay with him even if I grabbed him by the hair. But what about Teddy? As I pondered deeply, Teddy once again thrust his bear head between us.

I stared at Teddy blankly, at a loss for words. There was no time to warn him not to speak to Jerome <like that>. Teddy, who was born and raised as a back-alley thug and had spent his whole life at the strip <The Club> ripping off people, began bluntly firing off vulgar and tactless remarks.

<…….>

Jerome simply looked at Teddy without saying a word. This was not the situation for it, but honestly, I wanted to rip off Jerome’s mask right then and see his expression.

Teddy subtly positioned himself in front of me, blocking the space between Jerome and me.

As Teddy closed his mouth, a quiet silence flowed. Jerome turned his head slantingly and looked at me. To his gaze, which seemed somewhat aggrieved and also like it was pressing for an answer, I just shrugged my shoulders. I could not say it did not feel refreshing inside. To be a bit more honest, I might even burst into laughter. Hiding behind Teddy’s back, I said.

<That’s ridiculous. The moment you step out of the restroom, you’ll get caught. You, Raymond, and that idiot over there.>

I kicked Teddy’s leg to stop him from getting indignant. It was good to bluntly retort, but right now, escaping as quickly as possible was the priority.

<…….>

<…….>

To rescue both Christopher and Teddy at the same time, this was the only way. If Jerome covered for us, the risk would be much less, so perhaps now was the perfect opportunity.

Jerome stood with his arms crossed, looking at me and Teddy once each. The standoff did not last long. Jerome opened the stall door and went in toward Christopher. As if conscious of the CCTV, he examined Christopher with somewhat rough hands. After a moment, Jerome exited the stall and passed beyond the partition without sparing us a glance. From the other side, Jerome’s loud voice could be heard.

Soon, people from beyond the partition gathered toward us murmuring. They each looked into the stall, poked the unconscious Christopher with sticks, forcibly pried open his eyes or mouth, and nodded. Teddy and I untied the ropes binding Christopher in front of the white masks watching. As we supported Christopher and came out, they quickly stepped back, covering the lower part of their masks, probably because of the stench. Teddy mumbled lowly from beyond his mask.

<…Let’s hurry and go.>

As we exited the restroom, I tried to suppress the ominous premonition that kept rising in my head. That premonition was about Jerome. Instead of letting us escape safely, what price would Jerome have to pay? What kind of aftermath would he have to bear?

When we came out of the restroom, we drew gazes, but there was no need to feel threatened. The white masks who had followed from the restroom were pointing at us and Christopher, making a commotion among themselves. The whole situation made me nauseous. Christopher, naked, covered in a ton of filth, and passed out, was nothing more or less than an interesting spectacle for those bastards. Sometimes, there were even those who blatantly held up mobile phones to take photos. With a face as expressionless as a mask, I crossed <The Club>.

<Hey, where are we going?>

Teddy, who had been grumbling beside me, asked in a voice lowered to the fullest. I was heading toward the passage that I had memorized while examining the blueprints with Jerome. Without answering Teddy’s words, I just moved my steps silently. The white masks who had been annoyingly following behind gradually fell away one by one, unable to endure Christopher’s stench. After passing through several salons, we finally entered the second corridor. Fortunately, this side had few people. Since we had shaken off all the trailing stragglers, we could reach the very end room smoothly without any interference.

The room, decorated like a luxurious bedroom, was empty. As soon as I laid Christopher on the bed, Teddy flopped down beside him.

<Huff, it’s hot as hell. Damn it.>

It seemed his energy had completely drained from supporting a man much larger than himself, and moreover unconscious and slumped over. Teddy, drenched in sweat, swept back his forehead and let out a long sigh. Since there was still a long way to go ahead, I left Teddy to rest and examined the room. Looking around the room here and there, I soon found the wardrobe with a marble handle, just as Jerome had described.

I crawled into the wardrobe and looked around various places, but nothing else particularly stood out. Anxiously touching the walls and then giving up, this time I began carefully tapping them. It seemed like a clear ringing sound came from one side, so I seriously probed that wall. At one point, the wardrobe wall flipped over like a revolving door. Beyond the flipped plank, a dark and spacious passage appeared. I turned to look at Teddy. He, who had half-raised his body from the bed, met my gaze with wide-open eyes.

<It’s a secret passage. How did you know?>

Teddy, who had gotten up from the bed and approached, asked. I removed the mask from his face. His face, flushed red from the heat, was colored with curiosity and surprise. While wiping the sweat from his forehead, I said.

<…Who the hell is that guy really?>

I ruffled Teddy’s hair, who was pretending to interrogate me.

Teddy, who had been staring blankly at my evasion, let out a short sigh.

For an idiot who had come to <The Club> on his own two feet without knowing anything. Teddy, acting all grown-up and lecturing me, was so lovable that I gazed at him affectionately and then stood up.

Christopher, laid on the bed in the meantime, had urinated and was emitting a foul smell. I carried him to the clean sheet side, and carefully wrapped his naked body with the sheet. Covering his body full of wounds made my mind feel a bit more at ease. Because I knew all too well how strong and healthy Christopher had been, the present situation was nothing but painful and agonizing. I carefully stroked the face of Christopher, who had lost consciousness from exhaustion. There was no leeway to indulge in sentiment. I removed my mask, tucked it behind my back, and immediately hoisted him onto my back.

After I crawled into the secret passage first, I received Christopher handed over from the other side and brought him inside the passage. Teddy closed the wardrobe door last and came over to the passage. No matter how much I touched the plank, it could not be returned to its original position, so in the end, we decided to leave it open. With me carrying Christopher on my back and Teddy leading the way, we began walking along the passage.

From the far end of the passage, the sound of water droplets falling drip drip could be heard. Carrying Christopher, who was as sturdy as me, and moreover with his body limp from unconsciousness, was no easy task by any means. Sweat poured down like rain, so in the end, I had to take off my suit jacket and hand it to Teddy. The passage was not completely dark; it was because emergency lights were embedded every few meters into the stone-laid floor, emitting light. We carefully moved our steps following the direction indicated by the emergency lights. The footsteps crossing the empty passage echoed eerily.

Nothing could be heard from Christopher except for the low sound of his breathing. When my walking speed had noticeably slowed, Teddy took over carrying Christopher on his back instead. However, since my stamina was far superior to Teddy’s, the shift did not last long. As time passed, we grew increasingly exhausted at a rapid pace, so we just walked steadily in silence. The body of Christopher on my back seemed to be cooling down more and more, which only made my mind grow impatient.

The long passage ended along with the sound of flowing water. Just as Jerome had said, we had reached the mansion’s waterway. First, I took off my shoes and entered the waterway. The water depth was shallow. It was fortunate that it only reached up to my ankles, but the bottom was quite slippery. With Teddy’s help, I carried Christopher on my back and walked slowly. Beside me, Teddy held my arm and lightly supported me.

After walking along the waterway, when we discovered the stairs leading out to the ground, I finally let out a sigh of relief. What was called stairs was just rebar bent into a round shape and embedded in the cement wall, but even that alone was enough to make me grateful. At the end of the stairs, there was a grating door made for sewer use from the ground. To prevent Christopher, whose body was already cold, from getting wet in the water, I exerted all my strength to bring him up to the emergency stairs. Teddy went up first and flung open the grating door. A sky full of stars as if they were pouring down appeared.

Before climbing the stairs, preparations were necessary. I wrapped Christopher’s body and my own body as tightly as possible with the bed sheet, shook our bodies a few times to check, and only then stepped on the rebar. Even though I had only climbed three or four steps, sweat poured down like rain. When I had climbed halfway up the stairs, Teddy, who had gone up to the ground first and was waiting, reached out and grabbed Christopher’s armpits. Thanks to that, I could climb the stairs a bit more easily.

As soon as we reached the grassy field moistened with rainwater, I collapsed face down as if falling. Christopher rolled off my back along with me. I unwrapped the sheet and laid him down comfortably, then lay on the grassy field with my limbs spread out. Heat rose all over my body, my face burned hot, and my earlobes flushed with warmth. Even though it was midwinter, my body did not cool down easily, so I lay there collapsed for a while, breathing roughly.

<Teddy.>

Only after catching my breath and cooling the heat that had risen to my cheeks did I call him. Teddy was sitting beside me, looking at the mansion far away, then turned his head.

<Why.>

<Yeah, right.>

Teddy looked at me quietly. He said.

I sat up. I looked at Teddy. He looked at me with an expression that said he was fed up. As if he was utterly sick and tired of it.

I could not promise anything. I could not say sweet words like I would come back, or that when I came back, I would be your faithful lover. I just looked at Teddy.

Teddy got annoyed. He pushed my shoulder and punched my face. When I obediently took the hits, he loosened his clenched fist weakly. With Teddy sitting on top of me, he glared coldly, then finally jumped to his feet. Wanting to kiss him, I grabbed his hand, but Teddy shook it off. When I grabbed his hand again, this time he could not shake it off. I pulled Teddy into my arms and kissed him. Teddy bit my lips savagely, but soon roughly tangled his tongue with mine. Suddenly, he pushed my shoulder away and pulled back from me.

<…….>

Leaving him who turned his back resolutely, I went back down under the grating door. Teddy closed the door from above. We looked at each other briefly through the iron bars. Teddy said nothing. As he turned his body and disappeared, I also came down the stairs. I went upstream against the cold flowing water in the waterway and stepped onto the passage leading to <The Club>.

I will rescue Jerome. Just as Jerome rescued me in Leverham. Just as he let me go in <Kelly>. After rescuing him, then, we will return to the same relationship as before. A relationship full of only grudges of revenge and hatred, where we settle all the debts we owe each other.

Unlike when coming, the way back to <The Club> was excessively short. In an instant, I passed through the passage and returned to the wardrobe with the marble handle. Suddenly, everything from meeting Teddy to rescuing Christopher felt like a dream. Before returning to <The Club>, I neatly adjusted my clothes and flipped the mask that I had tucked into my waistband back over my head. I forcibly moved my thoroughly exhausted feet and returned to the salon through the sparsely populated corridor.

Contrary to my worries, it seemed no one had noticed the fact that Christopher had disappeared. On one hand, relief came from the party atmosphere that was not much different from when I first came out, but on the other hand, the carefree party atmosphere felt rather unsettling. Had Jerome directly drawn Timothy’s attention? It was unknowable. If I found just one of Timothy or Jerome, some of the questions would be resolved. However, since all the people enjoying the party had masks flipped over their heads, there was no way to find those two. At least, the possibility of finding Jerome was higher. Because his build was noticeably larger compared to ordinary people, I could greatly narrow down the candidates.

To avoid suspicion, I wandered the salon holding a tray of champagne in my hand. Thanks to the mask, spying on others was very convenient. Whenever I found a white mask with a similar build to mine, I inevitably sneaked up and checked the eye color beyond the mask several times, but each time, I only tasted disappointment. It seemed like it would not end if I searched blindly. Wanting to rest for a moment while looking for another method, I subtly sat down on a chair in a remote spot.

While resting briefly and scanning the salon overall, I suddenly sensed a strange atmosphere. The people with masks were all glancing toward the game table side. I knew the fact that the host of <The Club> was decided through gambling and such, but the strange point was that even the <employees> with animal masks flipped over were noticeably agitated. Recalling Jamie’s case, the person dragged to <The Club> would be an innocent one enjoying the party on the ground…. Something smelled suspicious.

Looking around, I spotted a perfect person. I saw a woman wearing a koala mask standing alone by the window, holding a tray of finger foods. Her gaze was also fixed on the poker table. I naturally approached beside the koala mask and whispered.

<What’s with the atmosphere right now?>

She only turned her eyes to check my mask and let out a small sigh.

I instinctively became convinced that it was an event for Teddy. But unfortunately for Timothy, Teddy had already escaped the mansion and was running far away. To reassure the koala mask who seemed scared, I said.

<That’s no big deal. I heard the story too….>

Before I could continue speaking, cheers erupted from the poker table. I glared coldly at the white masks frolicking wildly. They were vulgar and filthy bastards. The white mask who won the game even climbed onto the game table. The bastard threw the fifth red chip on the floor and shouted.

The koala mask slowly turned her head to look at me. The eyes visible beyond the mask were trembling with fear. The koala mask slammed the tray down on the table as if throwing it and quickly backed away from me. Even without seeing the terrified eyes of the koala mask, I knew what mask I was wearing. My teeth ground together. The parrot mask I was wearing was originally Teddy’s. Timothy, that bastard had ultimately targeted Teddy.

I stared intently at the numerous masks beginning to turn toward me. Gentlemen and ladies with white masks flipped over turned their heads toward me one by one and slowly closed the distance. Before I knew it, the white masks had surrounded me without gaps and were giggling.

The white mask standing tall on the poker table waited until the people had sufficiently surrounded me. And then he jumped down from the table, parting the crowd and approaching. He rushed straight to me standing tall in the middle of the people and yanked off my mask.

<…Huh? It’s not Teddy?>

How could I forget that voice asking playfully. That voice so exactly like Hugh’s. I glared at the white mask right in front of my nose, my eyes burning.

<Rachel, what brings you here?>

<…….>

The voice mixed with laughter asked mockingly. The white masks looked at me and murmured.

Timothy took one step toward me and suddenly grabbed and tore open my shirt buttons. I looked down once at the shirt hanging in tatters with the buttons fallen off, and glanced once at the bastards laughing uproariously. I silently untied my necktie and dropped it to the floor. And then I snatched the parrot mask from Timothy’s hand, crumpled it messily, and threw it at the feet of the white masks. The silence was short. After a brief pause, the white masks began to laugh. The small laughter sounds gradually swelled in size. Men and women alike all laughed loudly. Timothy also burst into mad laughter just like them. Staring blankly at them laughing, I reached out my hand toward Timothy standing close by.

Thoughts were secondary. I reached out my hand according to the rising impulse. I mercilessly tore off the white mask stuck smack to Timothy’s face and threw it to the floor. The laughter sounds vanished completely. Timothy looked at me with wide-open eyes in surprise. I vilely pulled the corner of my mouth and looked around at Timothy and the white masks standing in a circle around.

<Why? Keep laughing.>

Giggling while looking around at them, I strode forward. I grabbed and ripped off the mask of the man right in front of me. The man hurriedly covered his face.

I had no intention of stopping at just two or three. It felt like my anger would only subside if I flipped the faces of all the bastards with white masks flipped over. When I tore off the mask of the woman standing right beside, the woman quickly covered her face and hid into the crowd. Snorting, I reached out my hand to another mask. They backed away in preemptive fear. The circle surrounding me and Timothy widened in an instant.

While crumpling the snatched mask, I turned to look at Timothy. Timothy, with a bewildered face, met my eyes and then, as if suddenly coming to his senses, slowly narrowed his eyes. Soon he smirked sourly. Where does this dog bastard get off smirking. I threw the messily crumpled mask at the bastard’s face with all my strength. Timothy quickly dodged by stepping back, but he got somewhat humiliatingly hit in the face by the mask. This time, his face hardened. The hardened face looked much better. Smirking, I said.

I sauntered toward Timothy. Timothy, for some reason full of confidence, did not dodge and just stood there, looking at me with his coldly hardened face. I stopped my feet right in front of his nose. Looking down at him, who was much shorter than me, I scanned him up and down and whispered lowly.

<Doesn’t that feel unfair? In a party where everyone enjoys together…. I feel like it’s unfair? Huh? You fucking bastard.>

With my fist, I swung with all my strength at Timothy’s cheek. The sound of the white masks surrounding us gasping in surprise could be heard. Come to think of it, I couldn’t hit Hugh as much as I wanted, so beating Timothy to death might relieve my mind a bit. It would be good to just beat him to death right here. No more thoughts of Jerome or anything came to mind.

The fact that no one could retaliate against these bastards, the fact that we only trembled in fear and got done over and over, the fact that we literally could not land even one punch on their cheeks, made me furious again and again. I approached Timothy, who was already staggering after taking one hit, and kicked his stomach with all my strength, literally squeezing out every bit of strength from when I sucked milk.

Timothy, who rolled wretchedly on the floor, could not even breathe and gurgled. With the sole intention of breaking a few of the bastard’s ribs, I madly kicked and trampled his stomach and sides. Until the white masks, who had come to their senses, swarmed and pulled me away from Timothy, I beat and beat him to death. Although I was grabbed by the limbs by the white masks, those fucking bastards were not all secret intelligence agents like Jerome. They were just elegant gentlemen who knew a bit of polo or something.

I twisted my body with all my strength to break free from their grasp and immediately swung my fist. The masks flipped over their heads crumpled, and they were torn off, rolling on the floor. I beat the bastards with white masks flipped over as soon as I grabbed them. I pulled their neckties to choke their necks, struck their sides with my knees, smashed their nose bridges with my fists, poked their eyes with my fingers, and even lifted their bodies up and slammed them onto the floor. Like a wild horse with the reins loosened, wildly thrashing and bringing my shoe heel down thud thud on some gentleman’s body was my last memory. I must have been knocked out after getting hit on the back of my head with something.

When I came to, the headache was so severe that I could not see properly in front of me. It felt like I had been properly beaten. Groaning and writhing, but I could not move an inch. I snapped my eyes open. Right in front of me was a large screen. On the ceiling, low-intensity lights were embedded here and there, and several speakers were installed. It was a theater room. On the tiered sofas arranged in rows, people were sitting and chatting in small voices.

I was tied to the sofa in the very back row. Tied, but the sofa was excessively soft and comfortable, so it was not uncomfortable at all. I moved my hands and feet slightly and then suddenly turned to look at the seat beside me. Timothy was sitting there without a mask flipped over his head. I did not know how long he had been looking at me. The guy had an ice pack pressed to his cheek, but he did not look angry. Anyway, since our eyes met, I also looked straight at him.

<Rachel.>

<…….>

<Raymond.>

Timothy, tilting his head, asked.

<Raymond.>

<Raymond, my friend. Who on earth are you?>

<…….>

<No.>

I replied while leaning my head back against the sofa. The headache was gradually improving.

<You’re really strange.>

Timothy set down the ice pack and stroked his own cheek. Seeing the red and swollen cheek made the headache feel much better.

Timothy was trying to figure out who I was, but it seemed like he still had not figured out anything for sure. In other words, he had no idea about the fact that I had killed his brother and George. It seemed Christopher had kept the secret thoroughly. The price of keeping the secret was something I had confirmed with my own two eyes just moments ago. I decided to tell him about the secret he wanted to know a bit later.

Timothy asked as if it were unexpected. I nodded my head.

He seemed unaccustomed to this kind of negotiation. Frowning unpleasantly and staring at me steadily, he soon nodded his head. As if saying go ahead, he jerked his chin, and without hesitation, I asked.

<Bluebell?>

Timothy raised his eyebrows and asked back.

<Ah.>

Letting out a short exclamation, he this time tilted his head.

<No, I was tense thinking what kind of big thing you would ask. Jerome and Simon….>

Scratching his chin and pondering deeply, he suddenly smiled refreshingly. Unlike a man over thirty, every time he smiled, his face brightened like a child’s, making him look pure. Instead of answering, Timothy raised his hand and called over the cat mask standing like a shadow in one corner of the room. Timothy whispered a couple of words into his ear. Only after the cat mask left did Timothy open his mouth.

<Simon… is an obedient guy, so I don’t particularly want to touch him. As for Jerome, he probably needs to receive some punishment.>

<…What do you mean?>

<I originally planned to show a different video. The videos taken when you first visited <The Club>. But giving Jerome his punishment as well, and incidentally letting you hear what you want isn’t bad.>

<Don’t beat around the bush; say it straight.>

<I’ll teach you. One of the things you were curious about.>

As soon as the words ended, the small door beside the screen burst open. Large cat masks dragged in some man whose whole body was bound, pulling him roughly. The man writhed and tried to resist, but it seemed his strength had already drained away. As soon as I recognized the familiar build and necktie, my heart sank. The man was thrown in front of the screen. As the cat masks disappeared and the door closed, an image was projected on the screen.

Like a scene from a movie, the screen was astonishingly clear, and the sound came through without any noise. The screen captured a group of boys and girls. Those kids were holding beer bottles, sitting or lying on the grass, leisurely chatting. While I watched curiously, the screen slowly moved to the side. Soon, in a place separated from the group, a boy standing alone, trembling terribly, appeared. The camera gradually approached that boy.

The tall, pale-skinned white boy was trembling pitifully to an unbearable degree. As the camera drew closer, the sound of the kid panting could be heard. The ragged breathing transmitted vividly through the speakers was distressing to listen to. The camera, which had obsessively captured only the lower body and waist area, slowly raised its gaze. The moment the boy’s face filled the screen, I nearly jumped up from my seat with my eyes wide open.

Jerome, looking more youthful than during his Bluebell days, looked at the camera lens. It was an innocent gaze I had never even imagined. Tears streamed down drop by drop from eyes trembling wildly with fear. The moment his face was enlarged and captured on the screen, the older Jerome, who had been slumped in front of the screen, writhed.

Ignoring the ominous feeling as if my stomach was twisting wildly, I asked. Timothy answered cheerfully without taking his eyes off the screen.

Jerome in the screen pushed the camera away. At the feeble resistance, the camera instead filmed the face more obsessively. In the end, Jerome lowered his head.

[Jerome, look here.]

It was Hugh’s voice. Or maybe Timothy. The brothers’ voices were very similar. The boy shook his head and stepped back. The young master from the Donwell family said sternly.

[Before you get scolded, hurry up.]

Even though it was a gentle voice, Jerome noticeably got scared and lifted his head. However, the young master in the screen already seemed offended.

It was not a question to Jerome. The camera turned back toward the boys and girls. Before I knew it, the group on the grass had stopped their own chatting and playing and was looking at Jerome. Those unpleasant gazes were familiar. I soon recalled the gazes of the white masks looking at Jamie. I recalled the group of people who had silently turned their gazes toward me all at once. All those gazes followed the same trajectory.

I could not continue watching the video. When I turned my head sideways, Timothy whispered lowly.

<It’s the answer you wanted. You have to watch properly, my friend.>

<…….>

I glared at Timothy. He smiled faintly and gestured toward the screen with his chin. With no choice, I turned my gaze to the screen, but when a arm full of scar marks appeared, I finally squeezed my eyes shut. I could close my eyes, but with my hands bound, I could not cover my ears. I had no choice but to endure the violent sounds with the feeling of being tortured. The mercilessly pouring malice-filled jeers drew those scenes vividly in my mind even with my eyes closed. Occasionally, a large laughter burst out that made the speakers vibrate. It was a chillingly eerie sound that made my body shudder.

The difference between Jerome and me was that, as Madam Stella had said, he had thoroughly played the role of a stud horse. From the speakers, jeers mocking his bloodline endlessly popped out. Things like the noble royal highness going into heat with anyone and recklessly spreading seed, or that he’s a playboy who goes crazy for any female so let’s mate him with a dog too, such taunts frequently echoed through the not-small theater room. Seized by a horrific feeling, I waited for the video to end, for those sounds to just stop.

And suddenly silence came. I slowly opened my eyes. The video was still playing. The boys and girls in the screen were silently staring intently at Jerome. Those gazes. Even though they were faces without masks, they felt like masks. A low voice commanded someone.

[Go bring the dog.]

With the sound of someone running at full speed as the last, finally the video ended.

I stared blankly at the blackened screen. The video had ended, but the laughter had not. The other people sitting on the sofas burst into laughter as if they had watched a very amusing comedy show. However, I was detached from all of that, drifting far into the distant past. The boy’s voice pleading while crying, the teenagers’ vicious shouts, the voices of the white masks jeering and yelling, all faded like echoes.

At that moment, I was collapsed in a stable lit by an electric lantern with the smell of dry grass. Tears flowed endlessly down my cheeks, the unique fishy smell of the barn pierced my nose tip, and on some night when a damp and hot horse cock was rubbing against my buttocks…. There were four boys watching me without even blinking. Jerome did not watch until the end and left the stable alone. Those disappointed eyes came to mind. Only now could I finally understand why Jerome had been disappointed that day. Jerome had wanted to feel catharsis from me. He had wanted tenacious and solid resistance that did not yield even to brutal abuse. What Jerome had harshly demanded of me countless times in Bluebell, breaking me over and over, was, paradoxically, resistance that would never break.

Lost blankly in that moment from the past, I returned to reality only when the small door beside the screen opened once more. From beyond the door, a cat mask holding a silver tray appeared. On the tray, two syringes fully filled with drugs lay side by side. The cat mask approached the man who had been thrown in front of the screen and injected all the drugs contained in the two syringes into the man. The man, with his body tightly bound, could not resist. After injecting all the shots, the laughter and jeering sounds that had filled the room suddenly stopped.

Even after injecting all the drugs, the cat mask was waiting for something. I stared at the cat mask and the man as if entranced. Soon the cat mask carefully untied the ropes tightly binding the man’s limbs. Even though his limbs were freed, the man could not twitch a single finger. Instead of grabbing the cat mask’s hair and smashing it to the floor, he just hunched his body crookedly. He rubbed his forehead on the floor in agony and twitched his back.

Staring at him with my mind blank, I snapped to my senses at Timothy’s bright voice.

Timothy asked with a beaming smile. He seemed extremely curious about my reaction. Unlike his boyish bright smile, his pale blue eyes glistened slyly under the low-intensity lighting. Even though his lip was torn from my punch and his cheek was swollen red, Timothy showed not even a speck of resentment. He just seemed curious. The man who was more of a <monster> than any of us was thrilled, showing off the work he had meticulously crafted over long years.

Madam Stella’s words suddenly came to mind as if pricked by a needle. She had said Jerome was the <stud horse> that the Donwell brothers cherished and raised. Different from dogs like us…. The madam was wrong. Just as I had been to the top-level boys, to Timothy, Jerome was nothing more than a cute dog. The <purpose> might have been different, but he was the same damn puppy. Anger boiled up like molten iron. The anger that had slowly heated up during the video viewing finally blazed fiercely, impossible to extinguish with anything.

That was all; I just threw a cold glance at Timothy. The one who had set me on fire was that disgusting Jerome writhing like a bug in front of the screen. The resentment and anger toward Jerome that I had cleverly ignored and pretended not to know about until now burned my heart, burned my throat, and I could think of nothing else but being swept up in that blaze.

The pitiful boy crying and covering his body in the screen was not Jerome. I do not know such a Jerome’s face. I know nothing about a young, frail, and weak boy suppressed by fear and abuse. The Jerome I know is a madman. I nearly died several times chased by his madness. I was hunted like prey just because it was amusing. Every night, I was raped while asleep, he made me kill my friend with my own hands, and he took away my entire life from the root.

It was Jerome who saved me from George in Leverham. But it was also Jerome who caught me trying to escape Leverham and handed me over to the workers to be gang-raped. It was Jerome who rehabilitated me when I was addicted to drugs. However, it was also Jerome who dropped me into Simon’s clutches! Jerome! Jerome! He threw me into hell. He made me a <monster>! I could not accept a Jerome who was not a <monster>! A Jerome who was simply weak and purely innocent, such a Jerome, I could not forgive. I had to demand payment for all the sins he committed against me from the madman Jerome. He deserved to be trapped in the pain I had arranged. Jerome had to be a <monster>.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar hand pulled my chin. It was Timothy. When I obediently turned my head to look at him, he lifted my chin with his fingertips and tilted his head. Timothy seemed not to understand my anger. He fell into deep thought silently for a moment, then suddenly puffed out his cheeks and showed an unseemly laugh.

<Raymond. Shall we watch that noble royal blood really commit bestiality?>

I glared coldly at Timothy. Timothy’s expression hardened completely, and he narrowed his eyes and commanded.

As soon as Timothy’s words fell, the cat masks hidden in the shadows appeared. They untied the restraints binding my hands and feet. Timothy did not fear me at all now that my hands and feet were free. Rather, he leaned back leisurely against the sofa and gestured with his chin toward Jerome. Unthinkingly, following the gesture, I turned my head toward Jerome and came face to face with a herd of white masks looking at me. Sitting on the sofas, they were listening intently to the conversation and looking back at us silently.

I stood tall in that spot and looked down. At the white masks looking at me and beyond them, the repulsive Jerome writhing like a bug. The anger boiling like molten iron mercilessly melted everything inside me. I no longer wanted to judge. I went down, crossing the gazes. From behind, those with masks flipped over clapped and jeered.

I stared intently down at Jerome, who had veins bulging in his neck and was breathing roughly. With his face buried in the carpet, he seemed not even to know who was standing in front of him. Staring at his disheveled black hair, I lightly kicked the top of Jerome’s head with the toe of my shoe. Jerome twisted his head. Our eyes met. The green eyes that always glistened coldly like a reptile were now deeply sunk in the drug’s haze, boiling in confusion. The stud horse that the Donwell brothers had painstakingly tamed… no, one damn puppy was breathing excited breaths at my feet.

Jerome, who had been injected with two shots of the drug in a row, seemed to lack even the strength to stand on two feet. He recognized me and tried to raise his body, but that was all; he just heaved slightly. He knelt on the floor and huddled, gritting his teeth and holding back groans. Suddenly, as if regaining his senses, he glared with wide eyes and gritted his teeth, but right after, he collapsed like crumbling, rubbing his cheek against the carpet and breathing thinly. His neatly combed hair was thoroughly disheveled, and his once tidy attire had been a mess for a long time.

I slowly bent my knees and sat in front of him. Jerome weakly shook his head. It was the first time I had seen him unable to overcome excitement. He was barely holding on to his reason, blocking only masturbation, but I could tell… even the slightest stimulation would make him crumble like a sandcastle. As if answering Jerome’s refusal, I placed my hand on his thigh wrapped in the black suit pants. As I slowly pushed my hand between his thighs, suddenly Jerome snatched my wrist.

With a hand where tendons bulged unevenly, Jerome slowly pushed my arm away. Jerome’s grip strength must have been squeezing out every bit from when he sucked milk for himself, but to me, it was utterly negligible. I shook off his wrist and pushed my hand between his legs. The front was already bulging tightly from erection. As I pressed and stroked it steadily, Jerome stiffened his shoulders and let out a sigh.

I deliberately pulled down the pants zipper very slowly. Jerome belatedly grabbed my arm. The hand that was always ice-cold was now hot. Ignoring his hand, as I undid and parted the pants waist, the bulging underwear was revealed. Jerome let out a deeply suppressed sigh and rubbed his forehead against the carpet.

<Ugh….>

As I pulled down the underwear, a large penis sprang out. The rigidly erect thing was already so excited that it was slick and wet. As I gripped the penis, Jerome bent his waist. I leaned my body toward him and whispered.

<…….>

I gently shook his penis as if giving a handjob. Jerome barely shook off my arm and gripped the carpet as if to tear it. I flipped over him, who was trying to hide his body from me by lying prone. Jerome hurriedly grabbed my arm, but it was useless. As soon as he lay on his back on the carpet, I spread his legs and positioned myself between them. From behind, the white masks whistled and jeered, but I did not even look.

Gripping the rigidly upright penis and slowly shaking it, I asked lowly.

<…Ugh, haa….>

<…Eut.>

<Cum, you bastard.>

On the stage, we were no different from the Jerome in the screen moments ago. Jerome was just a powerless boy, and I was the bastard tormenting him. Nevertheless, I did not back down. I could not back down. I did not want to back down. Jerome gritted his teeth and looked at me. It was not a glare. He just looked at me with eyes boiling with lust.

I did not ask why he did that when he had suffered the same. I did not want to ask. I did not want to know such reasons. Just as Jerome had done, I wanted to abuse him too. Even if it was treatment no different from the bastard in the screen, in front of Timothy and the members of <The Club>, I wanted to recreate Jerome’s painful memories and make him writhe in the same shame. There seemed to be no better way to break Jerome. This moment felt like the most perfect revenge. Jerome was paying for his sins. Finally, he would hate me and seek revenge against me.

As if already at his limit, Jerome was biting his lip so hard it tore. I shook the hand gripping his penis faster and faster. The penis, slick with leaking fluid, had veins bulging and was flushed dark red. Jerome, who had been twitching his waist following the direction of my hand, twisted his face in pain. Strength entered the hand clutching my arm, and veins rose.

<Ut….>

With a low groan, Jerome ejaculated into my hand in front of Timothy and the eyes of <The Club>. I looked down coldly at him, who closed his eyes while panting. The white masks squealed like excited piglets and made a racket, but they all felt mysteriously distant to me, like figures on a television screen. Only Jerome was visible. Only Jerome’s hot breath reached me like scorching heat. With a kind of awe, I watched Jerome slowly open his eyes. We gazed steadily into each other.

I leaned toward Jerome and brought my hand to my pants. I pulled down the zipper and took out my penis, rubbing it against Jerome’s thigh.

Perhaps because he had ejaculated once, Jerome seemed more clear-headed than before. His eyes showed it. The eyes that had been deeply sunk in the drug’s haze had regained focus and were staring straight at me. But Jerome did not resist. He obediently lay beneath me with his legs spread. Like beasts mating in a zoo, we took out our cocks in the middle of people watching. I slowly got erect by rubbing my penis against Jerome’s thigh. Jerome silently looked at me. In his eyes, there was no despair, no shame, not even madness.

However, on my side, no matter how much, no matter how hard I tried, rubbing with my hand and against the thigh to erect the penis, it was no use. <The Club> watching us began to murmur. Glaring at Jerome’s eyes, I moved my hand. It was no use. I knew it too. I was impotent. I could never get erect if I intended to put it into someone. More than anyone, I knew it best…. Gritting my teeth, I glared at Jerome. Jerome, who had been looking, reached out his hand. Before I knew it, his fingertips, now coldly cooled, brushed my cheek. The familiar chill of his body temperature enveloped my cheek. Jerome whispered lowly.

<You….>

Jerome’s hand came down from my cheek, down, down. He zipped up my pants and fastened the buckle.

Jerome narrowed his eyes. As he slipped out from under me, he buried his face in the carpet. It seemed the drug’s effect was rising again. This time, Jerome could not hold back either. After ejaculating once, his patience seemed to have bottomed out. Lying prone, he pushed his hand between his legs. Staring blankly at him masturbating while rubbing his forehead against the carpet, I suddenly lifted my head. The white masks were pointing at us and bursting into laughter. Their mysterious presence instantly materialized into reality.

<Jerome, this guy. Remove your hand.>

From among the white masks, Timothy shouted clearly.

Mimicking the tone from the video exactly, Timothy burst into laughter. Jerome noticeably flinched at Timothy’s words. He stopped masturbating and leaned his forehead on the floor, breathing lowly. In the vulgar desires suddenly flooding in like a burst dam, I felt like I could do nothing but be swept away. Just looking at the white masks slyly coming down toward us, at Timothy, made my whole body feel constricted.

Timothy said in a scolding tone as he came down the stairs.

Suddenly, Timothy quickened his steps and overtook the white masks. In a theatrical tone, he asked the white masks cheering and responding to him.

Scattered laughter burst out. Jerome did not move an inch with his head buried.

The people came swarming down. They dragged Jerome roughly. Not a single one among them was larger or sturdier than Jerome, but Jerome could not resist at all. He was made to sit leaning against the wall and his limbs were grabbed. A woman with a white mask flipped over squatted down and gripped Jerome’s penis tightly, pulling it roughly. Jerome groaned lowly and hunched his waist. The white mask immediately slapped Jerome’s cheek. I watched all that scene frozen, sitting on the floor.

In a way, this was precisely the moment of revenge I had wanted. I should have watched Jerome being abused by the hands of numerous people and felt delighted, joining in the torment. However… I… The boiling anger seemed to cool in an instant, turning into a heavy lump of iron. It felt like my breath was being crushed. My chest felt stuffy as if weighed down by the iron lump. This was not the revenge I wanted. No, not revenge… I… I did not want this. I had never wanted something like this….

The thought that I had to save Jerome surged urgently. With my legs giving out so I could not walk, I crawled toward Jerome on all fours. After saving him, I had no thought of what to do next. I had no plan of how to save him. With only the determination to pull Jerome away from them, from that den of madmen, I crawled.

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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