I’m sure they’re finding a way.
I’m sure El Diablo is fuckingeveryone. Their bodies, their minds… Their lives.
I redirect my thoughts before I start thinking about The Ivory’s sex life, focusing on the billowing winds you can hear through the walls. The little pieces of stone scattering after a particularly raucous boom of thunder.
Maybe this building will fall down. That might be the only way I get out of here.
That conversation the other day with the British stranger hasn’t left my brain since it happened.
Revenge.I still want it.
The thing is, I’ve never known how to live a healthy, happy life, like Leah said. My life has been all grief, fury, anguish, addiction; a lost soul, living in self-destruction because I don’t know any other way. I had the chance to move on with my life, but I couldn’t. Just like acouldn’tfuckingkillhim when I needed to.
And so I vow, here in this dungeon, that if I don’t die… I will finish what I started. I don’t care if it kills me in the process.
My faith in revenge is restored, but not only for myself. For everyone else on this island who needs it. I hope they can forget it and move on. Live healthy and happy, while I absorb the burden.
I’m passing the time by sharpening my knife, finishing my water, and just listening. Voices are always echoing around here. Not long ago I heard Joy arguing with someone I think was Byron Kang.
I swear, I’m a walking encyclopedia of the degenerates on this island. And I’ve only met a handful of them.
Eavesdropping or not, I hate not having a damn clue what’s really happening on the other side of that door. I went from having the advantage of eyes and ears no one knows are there, around every corner, lurking and listening and watching…
Now I only know what’s going on when people say it near my stupid tomb.
Standing up, I stretch myself out. I practice jabs and kicks, just to get the blood flowing, until more voices stop me in place. I move up to the door and try to listen, but they’re too far to make out. Too hushed. Not like the screams I usually hear from that direction.
The only thing I end up catching is a click. From my door.
My eyes fall to it. There isn’t even a handle on anything, but it made a sound, like a lock turning.
It couldn’t be… Could it?
Out of the foolhardy hope that’sstillinside, refusing to be snuffed out no matter what happens to me, I press my hand to the metal of the door and push.
It opens.
The door swings open, revealing a hallway I haven’t seen in fuckingmonths.
Dios fucking mio…
Peering out into the hall, I look around. In case it’s a trap, and Diablo is standing out there with his goons, waiting to attack me. But I see no one.
Holy fuck.
“Ohh my God…” I whisper, wiggling in sheer thrill.
I take a step, then stop, peeking up at the camera on the ceiling.
It’s slumped forward, no red light.
It’soff.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, diving out into the hall and making a run for it.
That’s all I need. I don’t give a flying fuck why my door opened or why the cameras are off. Those aren’t my problems.
I’m getting the fuck out of here.
