Not Who I Expected [TTW w/ Room #14 || TAG: Dorian]

[Ethan Kaul]

Ethan woke up to the sound of the shower running and a familiar ache in his back. God, he was sick of it. He was sick of sleeping on floors and on mattresses that weren't fit for any human. He was sick of the pain in his stomach, reminding him that all he had eaten for over a month was stale bread once a day. He was sick of missing people, both the people he'd met in this place and not seen in a long time, and the people from back home, hell, even his parents at this point. Most of all, he was sick of how tired he was. There was no energy left in him, no fight, both from lack of nutrition and a deteriorating mental state. He'd always maintained before that he wasn't depressed, that he could handle any negative emotions that came his way, and yet now... now he couldn't even find the willpower to get out of his makeshift floor bed. All he could do in that hellhole was talk to Keiari and people on the other side of the wall, and when they weren't available, he was left alone with his thoughts and his all-consuming worry for the people he'd grown to care about.

In that moment, he needed to talk to somebody, anybody. Keiari was in the bathroom, and while Geoff had been a good listener, his wall was on the other side of the room, and moving right then felt almost impossible. Plus, what the man had told him was still weighing on his mind. Ethan genuinely feared for Sawyer and David and what they would have to endure, and that was all he could think about when he'd spoken to Geoff. Their talk had reminded Ethan of the ever-present threat of marriage that loomed over all their heads, as well as the fact that a marriage hadn't been enough to save him from nearly dying. If Sawyer or David were thrust into another one of those awful 'games'...

He shook his head, rolling onto his side. Evan was on the other side of this wall, and he understood Ethan probably better than all of them. Evan had been through the same thing, Evan would get how he was feeling...

Raising his hand, Ethan brushed some hair out of his eyes, before knocking on the wall.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

[Dorian F. Blund]

Breath in, breath out.

Keep your heart steady.

Don’t look down.

Dorian’s hands were carefully placed between his thighs, the offensive appendages out of sight, as if he was trying to warm them up; if he didn’t press too much with his legs, and didn’t look too carefully, he could almost pretend that nothing was amiss. There, you almost look normal like this, just as always. Isn’t that much better?

He didn’t know if loneliness was a gift or a curse at this point. His whole life he’d yearned to be alone whenever he could, preferring his own company or Winfred’s to that of anyone else; yet, ever since he’d been in this place, he’d found himself longing for human interaction more than ever before… only to end up losing loved one after loved one, in a twisted irony of fate.

With Clayton he’d long to be left to himself, but it had not done anything to help against his dark, gloomy thoughts; then, had come Hannah, and she had made him feel so much better.

Now, Hannah wasn’t here, and he did not trust Evan. He didn’t trust anyone. How could he? He had believed in Mrs Baker, and she had betrayed him; when he had thought he could reason with her, she had refused him; when he had thought that surely she could not be that bad, because he had no proof of her ever killing someone directly, she had stabbed a frail old man right in front of his eyes, before dismembering him and, no doubt, everyone else in the room. She was a monster, and he had been wrong about her in every way; him, the man who was supposed to know with a single glance what kind of person he was dealing with and how to manipulate them to get what he wanted from them. He wasn’t half as smart as he’d prided himself to be, and now, he, and the people he loved, were paying the price.

All he knew now, was that neither being with Evan or away from him helped, and he didn’t know what could. He hated feeling so useless, so self-pitying, but he didn’t know how to fix himself. How was a man who’d never spoken about his feelings in 27, almost 28 years of life, meant to know how to handle them himself? He didn’t. He couldn’t.

The knock on the wall he had been resting his head against, sitting with his back to the hard surface to keep an eye on the entire room in case anything tried to catch him off guard, almost gave him a heart attack. Jerking forward, he turned his face towards the sound, barely remembering to breathe; it’s probably just a neighbor, he thought. Nothing to worry about. You’re safe.

The voice was familiar, but not so much so that their identity was immediately obvious to him, and he didn’t know whether to be glad or not. Dorian remained silent as he pondered over who this could possibly be, wanting to know who he was dealing with before he decided whether he wanted to engage in conversation or not. He had no energy for anything.

Unless someone else he was acquaintanced with had been kidnapped recently, which was a scary though, the number of people he knew in this place was now limited, more and more so after each day; after a bit of brainstorming, it finally hit him. This must be the young man who had wandered into the basement with him and the rest of their small group… Dorian chased away any thoughts of Huxley; now was not the time. What mattered was that he knew him… but wasn’t close with him. At another time, he might not have cared so much, but now, this was…

Perfect.

This man… didn’t know about his condition. He didn’t know the deplorable state he was in, both mentally and physically. For him, he was the strong, determined man from the clutter who had proudly led the group ahead, trying to find their way out, without a once of fear or hesitation.

Perhaps he could be again, only for a few minutes.

“… Hello.” He answered. His voice started weaker than he had planned, but he quickly cleared his throat to correct it; hopefully, he would only think that he was thirsty, or hadn’t spoken in a while. “You are… Ethan, from back in the clutter, aren’t you? I am Dorian, the tall, dark-haired man who was with you down there.” He hadn’t prepared what he would say, he realized, and briefly found himself at a loss for words. He needed to think of something fast if he did not want the man to suspect anything. “I, uh, hope you are unharmed.”

[Ethan Kaul]

Silence. Maybe Evan was in the bathroom, or asleep, or otherwise occupied. He didn't know what was in the other room; perhaps Evan had been luckier and had been given something to pass the time, something more substantial than a chest filled with dirt and a teddy bear. Or, the man just didn't want to talk to him, which Ethan couldn't blame him for. He wouldn't want to talk to him either.

He rolled back over onto his back, wincing slightly. This floor was doing him no good, combined with how slim he'd become thanks to a lack of good food. He wondered whether he'd just eventually waste away there, left to die by that woman simply because he hadn't won her game. He couldn't even lie and say that it would be a good way to go, that he didn't want to win, because he wanted it more than he could even say. Being married, having that semi-protection would be a hell of a lot better than just being left to rot.

“… Hello.”

The voice suddenly coming from the other side of the wall made Ethan jump. In all honesty, he hadn't been expecting a reply after that long pause, and the voice wasn't exactly the one he'd anticipated either. It certainly wasn't Evan's, and yet it was familiar, maybe someone from the very beginning of his horrific journey. He scrunched up his face, trying to dredge up his hazy memories from the past month or so. It absolutely wasn't Evan or David, and it didn't sound like Russel or Huxley either, but luckily the man's next sentence let him know exactly who it was.

Dorian. From what Ethan could remember, he was the handsome, muscular guy who had held Freya on his shoulders and had taken charge, probably one of the most sane members of their little group. Even though he didn't know him well at all, from the way he spoke Ethan was sure that his outward strength was a reflection of his inner being, and that thought did not make him feel any better about his current mental state. Dorian was a real man, a leader, not like him.

God, I wish it was Evan on the other side. Evan understood how Ethan felt, judging by their previous talk. The two of them were similarly vulnerable and scarred; they'd endured the exact same 'game', seeing the exact same horrors, feeling the exact same pain. And, yeah, it could have been a lot worse for the two of them, but that didn't make him feel any better about it all. The physical scars were minimal, but the mental scars, the nightmares, the amplification of his already existing depression that he had somehow managed to ignore for years... they were something he couldn't shake. Normally he would have self-medicated with whatever form of alcohol took his fancy, but in here there was no such luxury.

“I, uh, hope you are unharmed.”

Ethan took a deep breath. He needed to reply something at least, he'd initiated the chat after all. Something to make him seem like he was as strong as he wished he could be. Comparatively to most people in there, he'd had an easy ride. He needed to suck it up.

"Hi, uh, Dorian, yeah it's Ethan. I'm... glad to hear you're alive," Ethan responded, using every ounce of his remaining strength to stop his voice from wavering, "I'm... mostly physically unharmed. I assume you've heard from Evan about what happened, but I was in that game with him. Luckily I came out of it better than others, but..."

Deep breaths. Don't let him know how you feel.

"I'm fine. I'm just concerned about everyone else's well-being. Are you... are you okay?" 

[Dorian F. Blund]

It took the other man some time to reply; it almost seemed like he was… bracing himself? At another time, Dorian would have picked up on it and reacted accordingly; but for now, he was choosing to ignore the signs and pretend to be oblivious to his neighbor’s possible discomfort. He did not have the luxury to worry about other people’s feelings right this minute; plus, he had been the one to knock, and hadn’t called for anyone in particular, so he must have been prepared for the eventuality of meeting just about anyone, wasn’t he? Did he dislike him personally? Frankly, Dorian couldn’t care less. Not today.

The response was hesitant when it finally came; he expressed some contentment to hear that he was alive, though Dorian couldn’t tell if he was simply exchanging pleasantries he did not mean a word of. Not that whether Ethan cared for him or not was his problem right about now.

When Ethan mentioned being “mostly” fine, as well as the event Evan had talked to him about, Dorian winced; he did not wish to think about that, not now… but he couldn’t simply ignore it either, he needed to acknowledge the man’s experience somehow, or it would be seen as disrespectful, and he might just leave. He needed to…

“Are you... are you okay?"
“…….”
Dorian knew the answer of that question much too well, but he didn’t think he was ready to say it yet. Was he okay? No. Would he ever be again? He wasn’t sure. For all the harsh training and experience he’d had in his life… nothing had ever prepared him for this. Having no control over his circumstances and no way to regain it. The betrayals, the deaths, the loss…

He had never been prepared to care for people, least of all himself. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet here he was. Mourning, with no idea how to come about it, mutilated, and feeling sorry for himself.

“… I’m fine. A bit shaken after being in a couple games myself, but I survived, as you can see.”

“bit shaken” did not even come close to describe his current state of mind, but it wasn’t a complete deception either; a little bit of truth always made for the best lies, he’d come to learn, and for now, that was all Ethan needed. Stating he was completely fine would have been much too good to be believed, he was sure.

“I was sorry to hear about your own game, and glad to know you are as okay as you can be at the moment. Actually, I-“ Dorian struggled a little with his words; he used to know how to improvise, but right now, putting thoughts together was proving to be so much more difficult. Perhaps because he was so desperate to come off as confident and untouchable. What he needed was a change of subject, and luckily, there was a perfect one. “I had miss Hannah as a neighbor before being in this room…” he finally continued, breathing more relieved when he found a way to finish his sentence. “She expressed worry for you. I am sure she would be glad to know you’re alive.”

He wondered if Ethan would cheer to know she had been fine until recently or not; he hadn’t spent enough time with the man to get a great grasp on his personality, and whether he was the kind to feel empathy for others or not. But he could fulfil his promise to the woman with at least one person from her list, since the last time he had tried to do so…

Dorian shook his head. Don’t think about it. Not now. Not here.

“She was worried about other people too, such as… miss Katherine.” He continued. He was mildly surprised to hear himself phrase it that way; perhaps hearing Ethan’s answer would hurt less if he convinced himself he was asking for Hannah’s sake… and not because he was deadly worried for his friend. “… We were in a game together and things didn’t… go so well. I haven’t seen or heard about her since. You wouldn’t… happen to know anything about her, would you?” he asked, his voice lowering as his sentence came to an end. He was scared of the response; in part trying to prepare himself for the worst, but also… for the very likely possibility that Ethan would have no information to give him at all. Dorian wasn’t sure how much longer he could live with the uncertainty, trying to convince himself she was fine somewhere when she was most likely not.

[Ethan Kaul]

Once again there was a long, almost eerie pause. If his brain had been a bit sharper, he would have deduced that there was something very wrong, however weeks of monotonous pacing interspersed with eating and sleeping had made him slower, numb even. Instead, he attributed the pause merely to the ridiculousness of his question - of course nobody he was going to talk to was okay! They were hostages in some twisted game of a madwoman with a penchant for conducting weddings between unwilling participants. There was also the overlooked fact that Ethan knew that Dorian in particular was unlikely to be doing well after what he had experienced in the freezer. He wondered if the man had been particularly close to either of the victims; either way it wasn't exactly a good situation to be in.

“… I’m fine. A bit shaken after being in a couple games myself, but I survived, as you can see.”

Survived. The notion of survival seemed to be slipping further and further out of Ethan's grasp, as much as he desperately tried to hold onto a sliver of hope. He hadn't won the game, it was only a matter of time before he was thrust into another one like a lamb to the slaughter. They were all just objects to this woman, and if their actions didn't align to her ideal then they were bound to be discarded eventually.

Still, he couldn't help but be glad that Dorian had survived. A man as physically strong as him would prove useful, and perhaps, considering all he had endured, he would like to be the one to throw the first punch when they finally came face to face with their captor.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear it. Luckily I came out of it relatively unscathed-" physically, anyway, "-bar a lost toenail. It could have been a lot worse."

Better to keep things formal, for now. Dorian didn't seem like the type of man to break down in tears, and Ethan certainly wasn't going to do that in front of him. They weren't obligated to care for each other, after all, but that had just been the natural outcome with everyone else had spoken to.

His green eyes widened at the mention of Hannah. Oh god, it felt better than he could say to hear that she was still alive, and seemingly doing well. He was also touched by the fact that the woman had worried about him, even though it had been weeks since they had last spoken. She had crossed his mind too, and he hoped that she was as happy as she could be in a place like this.

"I'm... really happy that she's okay. I was worried about her, considering everything, so to hear that she's alive and well is... really good to hear, actually."

Ethan managed a smile, even though the man obviously couldn't see it. There was still hope - Hannah was still alive, as was Geoff. That made him feel an awful lot better about David and Sawyer's potential situation as well, hopefully the marriage could protect them from any harm.

Dorian turned the conversation towards Katherine, and it was evident from his voice that he was worried about her. Ethan's heart leapt at the thought of being able to give the man some good news. God knows it was needed.

"Actually, she was on the other side of the wall in my last room. She wasn't exactly... mentally okay when we started talking, which is obviously understandable considering the circumstances, and she told me about everything you went through in that event... I think I managed to help her feel a little bit better, but obviously she's bound to be upset..."

Would it be odd to express his condolences for Cassim and Della's deaths? He wasn't exactly sure how the man would take it, but he supposed it was better to mention it than not.

"I'm sorry about everything that happened, not that my sorry does much practical good. Um, actually, in the second room I was in with Freya, who is alright as far as I know, we found a scarf, which she identified as belonging to Cassim. Katherine somehow managed to make a hole in the wall between us, so I gave it to her, and that seemed to cheer her up a little bit. I know she cared for them a lot... and I believe she was worried about you too. If I hear from her again, I'll let her know you're still alive; I'm sure she'll be happy to hear some good news."

[Dorian F. Blund]

"That's good, I'm glad to hear it. Luckily I came out of it relatively unscathed- bar a lost toenail. It could have been a lot worse."
Dorian barely managed to suppress the dry, empty laugh that threatened to come out at these words. He had given the man no reason to know why he would find that statement cruelly humorous in the worst of ways, and so if he let himself go, Ethan would find him to be inconsiderate, for sure.
A toenail.
“Yes, I suppose it could have been worse.”

He wanted to say, scream perhaps, something more, but he restrained himself. He didn’t want Evan to hear, come running in, and possibly blow his cover. Not now, not yet.

Ethan seemed genuinely happy to hear about Hannah, and for some reason, this… soothed Doran’s mood greatly. He didn’t know whether he was just happy to see his friend cared for, or if he was relieved to have managed to do something good, as small and insignificant might it be, just for once since he’d come here. Maybe he wasn’t entirely useless after all.

“I’ll let her know you were looking out for her too if I see her again. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear it.” He promised, his voice becoming softer. It felt… good, helping someone, even just a little bit, amidst all the misery everywhere else. “I think her status as a bride may actually be protecting her; at least, that is what I hope.”

Then came the mention of Katherine, and as Dorian braced himself for the worst that was most likely to come…
"Actually, she was on the other side of the wall in my last room.”
His eyes grew wide with shock as he heard those news, Ethan continuing to relay the girl’s poor mental state with every word. Meanwhile, Dorian listened in pure silence, the breath catching in his throat as he stared at the wall.

She wasn’t doing well, but there was no surprise there; of course she wasn’t doing well, after everything she’d been through, he wouldn’t have expected her to. But she was HERE to not feel well, she still existed to feel anything at all. She hadn’t been disposed of yet.

“Oh God.” Dorian breathed out, his voice quivering with every syllable. “She’s alive, thank god…”

Dorian brought his hands up to hold his face steady, not finding it in himself to care about the disgust he felt for his damaged limbs as he rested his forehead on their injured palms, only then realizing he was shaking. Something wet fell against his wrist and slowly slid its way down his forearm to nestle itself in the crease of his elbow. Was he crying?

All this time he’d wondered where she was, if she had been kept at all about their failure like him, or gotten rid of, her remains perhaps buried next to Kamala; it would have been a fitting end for yet another of his loved ones. He’d tried to stay neutral, aware of his worries but keeping them hidden under a blank expression, only letting some of them out with Hannah; there too much going on for him to worry about anyone else. And yet…

Now he knew she was alive. And it terrified him. If he had known nothing, and had discovered she was dead later on, he would have been distraught, but it was a possibility he’d prepared himself for. Losing her after being reassured of her well-being? He didn’t think he could take it, not now, not after everything else. God, he had been fine for two weeks too, before he’d been thrown into a game and mutilated; what if she had been in another one as well? What could have been done to her? Where was she now?

He was hyperventilating again, he realized, and barely managing to open his eyes against the lower part of his palms, he tried to focus on Ethan’s words rather than on his own inner thoughts. He needed to contain this or he would be sent in another panic attack. His heart sank when he heard of Cassim’s scarf, but beat with new hope when he spoke of giving it to Katherine. Good. She already had scissors from Della, now she would have some memorabilia from her other friend as well. She should keep them both, he thought, she deserved to hold onto a memory of them, unlike him, and it would be a way to keep the souvenir of the two of them together. Maybe they could help her keep her spirits through this. God, when had he become such an emotional wreck? When had he become… so unlike him?

“Good, that’s good.” He spoke out, hating how weak his voice sounded. He tried to correct his tone to sound as unaffected as he wished to appear, but he doubted it would be very convincing to anyone with half a brain; and Ethan seemed far from an idiot. “Cassim… Cassim would want her to have it. Thank you for giving it to her. And… for comforting her” when I couldn’t. “I’m glad to hear that miss Freya was alright as well… I have barely heard of her since the clutter.” At least there were still some members of his original group that were still unharmed and sane… unlike…

Dorian swallowed difficultly, trying not to look at the wall, behind which his companion was concealed. Had he already ruined his cover, so early into their conversation? Was there anything he could say to fix it?

“Did, she, hm—“ god, this was hard. “Katherine; did she speak of what happened in the freezer? In detail?”

Did she blame me?

[Ethan Kaul]

“I’ll let her know you were looking out for her too if I see her again. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear it," Dorian promised, and Ethan smiled to himself once more. Hannah had been such a caring soul in their brief four-way conversation, and even though they didn't know each other very well, he was sure she was someone he could rely on. It was nice to know that she was thinking of him weeks after their last encounter, and he made a mental note to hug her should they meet again for both him and Dorian, since he could tell just by the sound of the man's voice that he cared about her deeply.

"Thank you, I'm hoping we'll meet again soon, and if so I'll make sure to give her your regards as well," he replied, absentmindedly playing with the hairband around his wrist. It had become his new nervous habit; before he had been drumming his fingers and pulling at his sweater sleeves, but now he had that to physically remind him of what and who he was surviving for.

“I think her status as a bride may actually be protecting her; at least, that is what I hope.”

"I think so too. I know that she and Geoff were in one of those games immediately after their marriage, but from what I hear they were unharmed. Geoff is on my other side, and he hasn't mentioned any other events that he's been in, so I'm hoping that it is the marriage that is protecting them both, and that the protection will extend to Sawyer and David too, since I know they're supposedly engaged now."

Even just mentioning the game he had been an unwilling participant in made him feel sick to his stomach. No, he hadn't been hurt that much (even though the pain of pulling out his own toenail was pretty unbearable), but memories of all that had happened still plagued his nightmares. Plus, there was his concerns about the other participants, and he really hoped that Dorian was right in thinking that marriage would be able to save David and Sawyer from any harm.

The wavering in Dorian's voice surprised him a little bit, betraying the man's genuine concern for Katherine. He hadn't expected them to have formed so close of a bond, especially after their unfortunate meeting, but it was clear that the trauma they had endure had brought them together, much like how he had bonded with the other victims of the twisted dares. It was touching in a way to hear such emotion from a man who Ethan had presumed to be permanently stoic, and yet even despite the fog in his brain he was acutely aware of how the man's breathing sped up, loud enough for him to notice. God, he hoped that he hadn't said anything too wrong, anything that would make him worry too much about his friend. More importantly, he prayed that he hadn't given the man false hope. For all Ethan knew, Katherine could have been thrown into another game, and may not have made it out alive...

But he couldn't think like that now. He needed to focus, to make sure Dorian was okay. 

"I think she's feeling a lot better," Ethan said, trying to reassure him, "Especially with the scarf. We had a nice chat, actually, she mentioned you two had been talking about books and the like. And Freya seemed good the last time we spoke, though of course that was a couple of rooms ago..."

How long had it been since he had seen the pink-haired girl? While he had deduced that they moved rooms in two week rotations, there was no way of knowing how much time passed between falling asleep and waking back up again. He hoped Freya was okay, she had really been a bright spot during his time in captivity, and it would be devastating if she were hurt in any way.

"Katherine; did she speak of what happened in the freezer? In detail?”

Dorian's words seemed almost hesitant, and Ethan's brow furrowed. His mind was clearer now, and he could tell that something was very, very wrong with the man; still, he chose not to mention it. If something had happened, it would surely come up later in conversation. He still needed to let Dorian know about all that had happened involving Teddy and Keiari, after all.

"She told me pretty much everything, as far as I'm aware. The hangman game, Cassim and Della choosing to stay behind, and the fact that she made a deal with the devil... She was blaming herself pretty badly, she seems to think that it was all her fault that they died... Actually, it concerns me a little that she's so... willing to sacrifice herself..."

Especially considering what had happened to Keiari. Ethan remembered Daniel telling him that Keiari had promised to do anything their kidnapper asked, and had nearly paid the price with her life. Katherine had done the exact same thing back there in the freezer... god, he only hoped that she would be luckier than his roommate. The poor girl didn't seem like she could take much more pain.

"I think I talked her out of it. I hope I did," he sighed, "I wanted to talk to her the next day, but I wasn't able to because of the game I was put in, but we left off on a positive note. She seemed... good. Happy, even."

He paused for a moment, "Just... out of curiosity, when you were together did... did Katherine mention talking to anyone on the other side of the door? Or has anyone mentioned anything like that to you at all?"

Ethan needed to know if Teddy had visited anyone besides Keiari and Evan's old roommate. Katherine seemed like a prime target thanks to her self-sacrificing speech back in the freezer, but he assumed that if a visit had occurred, her thoughts were more occupied during their chat by the loss of their friends. Regardless, he needed to warn Dorian about what had happened, especially if either of them were to meet Katy again. 

[Dorian F. Blund]

Dorian nodded briefly at Ethan’s offer, more for himself than for him; Hannah was a great woman, and she had been strong until now, but he could tell that she was incredibly anxious. As long as she could get some good news, even about him, maybe it would help keep her spirits strong.

When Ethan brought up her and her husband being unharmed at their wedding, Dorian almost retorted that all those present had been shocked brutally; but he shut himself up the moment Ethan spoke of said husband being on the other side of Ethan’s room.

Geoff… A name Dorian had been rather wary of. Katherine had sworn that he was innocent and to be trusted, a prisoner like them, and while Dorian believed the woman did not speak lies… she could be wrong. Maybe this man was indeed working for their captors, and was just extremely good at tricking others, playing the role of a victim. It was extremely suspicious that he had shot so many young women without a doubt, even, if Dorian recalled properly, people he knew, and ended up marrying the chosen one. Had he known all along that the bullet was false, and simply played along to receive his prize? Those were Dorian’s doubts, and though he wouldn’t outright tell Geoff this, he would remain polite but doubtful of the man.

Or at least… those were his thoughts before the hangman game. Now he, too, had been put in the role of unwilling murderer, playing a game he did not know the rules of just to win himself a wife he did not want, and sentencing someone he knew and cared for to death. There had been no weapon directly thrust in his hand, so perhaps one could say that Geoff’s actions were still more violent, yet… wasn’t the ideal result the same? Then how could he say Geoff was more suspicious than he, still, with a straight face, without any further proof? For all he knew, he, too, had some personal issues with either Mrs Baker or one of her associates, and was being tortured for that reason.

“… Tell me, this Geoff. What is he like?” he asked, hoping to keep his tone neutral and indubious. “I’ve heard his name spoken so many times, and Hannah told me herself there were no issues between them, but… despite all that, I feel like I still barely know the man, if at all.” Maybe, with some more information, he could finally get some definitive answer about the mysterious shooter.

He was glad to hear miss Freya was alright, of course, but doubly worried about what Katherine had been saying of him behind his back; highly ironic, considering he had told her himself not to care about the gossips and lies people would spread about her only a few weeks ago. This entire situation was much more complicated than handling some stuck-up higher class jerks in formal meetings, he realized, and her words would hurt him more than those of any businessman.

Yet… he was surprised to hear she had spoken of their small-scale book club. Dorian thought back to the encounter fondly, he realized; his time with Katherine in that room may have been the only two weeks of genuine peace either of them had had in this place before everything had gone awfully wrong. No tasks for him to complete and betray his inner self, no games for them to doubt each other, no death to tarnish their days. Nothing but gentle chatting, reading, a few conversations with their neighbors, and maybe a couple awkward moments here and there, typical of two very different people forced to get used to each other with close to no privacy to protect their egos. Oh, how he wished they could both be back in that room. He wished he could have known back then that was as good as it would ever get.

He tensed a bit at the mention of the hangman, yet… it seemed that the summary of it Katherine had delivered did not speak of him in a bad light, even going as far as stating that Cassim and Della had chosen to stay rather than the… less altruistic version on his part. Dorian pursed his lips. He should be… happy, about this, right?

But wait… Katherine… “She blamed herself?” he whispered, astonished. What did the woman have to condemn herself for?? If anything, Dorian was to blame. He was sure no one would have missed him for long, had he insisted to stay in the freezer and let Cassim leave with Della and Katherine… Perhaps they would have mourned him for a while, but they would have had each other. They would get over him quickly. Meanwhile, Cassim…

Dorian shook his head vehemently. He had let the other man make the choice for him, and Della and her scissors had sealed the deal. What a coward. “Katherine has nothing to blame herself for. She may have lost the game, but I doubt it would have changed much.” Della and Cassim would have still refused to be apart, he was sure. Unless… Katherine agreed to stay to die in the freezer so Della could leave with Cassim. Would the couple have let her do that? He had never dared to consider this before, but… would they have gladly let their friend die for them so they could go live happily together? What would Dorian have done, if that had been the case?

"I think I talked her out of it. I hope I did. I wanted to talk to her the next day, but I wasn't able to because of the game I was put in, but we left off on a positive note. She seemed... good. Happy, even."

“Thank you.” Dorian spoke, sincerely. “I hope there’s a way to definitely talk her out of this deal… and this guilt… Our captor is not to be trusted. I offered her money and wealth and she wanted none of it. I doubt some nice words and offers of servitude would sway her either. What she wants is control.”

Dorian glanced down at his limbs, for the first time in a while daring to look at the massacre of his hands. Control. That was what this was. Punishment, a well-taught lesson, and a promise of more to come in the future if he was to misbehave and disappoint her further. Annie… what did she do to you?

“Please… remember this. Obeying her may save us for some time, but we have nothing that she wants apart from that. Don’t try to deal with her yourself, it would only put you more at risk. Tell others. Please.”

He didn’t want, couldn’t handle, the thought of more people desperately trying to make a deal with the devil, just to end up seeing themselves and their loved ones tortured further. Trying to bargain was a sign of weakness, he realized. They may think they would achieve something, protect those they loved, but what they were doing was showing signs of weakness, that they would be easily broken and used. Never be the first one to give in a contract, or you’ll always be the one losing in the end. He knew this. He should have remembered before.

"Just... out of curiosity, when you were together did... did Katherine mention talking to anyone on the other side of the door? Or has anyone mentioned anything like that to you at all?"

Dorian hesitated. He didn’t want to put Teddy in an even more compromising position than he already was… but if he had already interacted with prisoners, then, it was too late for that. The only one who could save him now was his own mother, and she was clearly unwilling to do so.

“… She never mentioned that to me while we were together, and I had no such visits, though on my first week here, they left me something in my room, a “task” to accomplish… it wasn’t anything hurtful.” apart from for my pride. “But… in the last game I was in, a white-skinned, black-haired man mentioned that one of the prisoners had spoken to a man named Teddy. He is related to one of our captors… possibly to the master behind all of this, though that is still… unsure.” He was more and more convinced that Mrs Baker had a bigger role in all of this that he had been willing to admit, if not the starring role, but he couldn’t make claims he couldn’t back yet. It would be unwise. “An acquaintance of mine also mentioned receiving a visit to their room from the female voice who spoke to us in the basement – she’s not the mastermind, I think she’s only a pawn. But he never got to see her face.”

This bothered him – he would have wished to receive some description of the woman, know what to expect. For all he knew, she might be pretending to be a prisoner herself… though her voice was known by now. Not by all, he thought. The newest prisoners don’t know her yet.
Teddy, and… Mystery Woman. Both of them had been interacting with prisoners, the woman in their private rooms; Teddy, he was unsure if it had been in a one-on-one game with one of them. Was Mrs Baker behind those meetings as well? To what end?

[Ethan Kaul]

“… Tell me, this Geoff. What is he like?”

Ethan couldn't blame Dorian for being curious. He had been too when Hannah had told him about her new groom. She'd not said anything bad about him, heavily implying he was forced as much as she was, and yet there had been doubts in Ethan's mind. What kind of a person would willingly play Russian Roulette with people's lives? Even if Geoff had known that there was no bullet, the mental issues that it would cause those poor women to have a gun pointed at their faces would be enough reason not to do it. Then again, that was before Ethan had been in one of those games. Under pressure, with lives at risk... he wasn't certain that he wouldn't do the same.

And then, he'd met the man, or at least, spoken to him. Even after their conversation, he was torn about what to think of him. He'd mentioned he thought it was an escape room, but surely he'd never been to an escape room like this before? It seemed like ignorance in a way, unless he'd actually been on his way to an escape room when he was kidnapped, and even then... In their conversations he'd seemed clever, pragmatic, unemotional even as he expressed his sympathies. Surely an intelligent man like him hadn't been duped that easily? 

Whatever. He wasn't sure what to say, but he wanted to give Dorian an answer nevertheless.

"He... he seems nice enough. Well adjusted to this place in a way, but I suppose that's because he had all his trauma early on. Smart, not too emotional. A decent enough guy. He did say that the whole... gun thing was because he thought he was in an escape room, which is a little... bizarre, but..."

He shrugged, even though Dorian couldn't see it through the wall, "He seems like a good guy at heart."

Ethan was a little surprised by how shocked the man sounded when he explained Katherine's feelings about the whole event. He'd assumed that the woman's sacrificial speech was enough to let him know where her blame lay, and yet perhaps Dorian was so certain that she would blame him for not staying behind that he hadn't even considered the possibility that she wasn't mad at him.

"I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault but I don't think she really believed me... I think she thinks that if she'd have won the game, the three of you would have gone free and she would have been the one who stayed behind. She's not upset with you at all; she's mad at herself for losing, not mad at you for winning."

“Please… remember this. Obeying her may save us for some time, but we have nothing that she wants apart from that. Don’t try to deal with her yourself, it would only put you more at risk. Tell others. Please.”

"I'm certain that I won't make any deals with her. It's not helped Katherine, and it's certainly not helped my roommate... But I'll make sure to tell others. I promise."

He bit his lip. If anything, bargaining had only made it worse by bringing Keiari to the attention of their kidnapper. Better to fly under the radar, Ethan decided, than to stand out and risk being killed. He was going be careful, he'd promised Sawyer that much, and he was going to do his damn best to live long enough to see her again like he'd told her he would.

Dorian's brief reference to 'tasks' sent a shiver down his spine. Maybe that was where the picture-drawing Evan had described came in; it certainly had involved Teddy, after all. Dorian had said it wasn't hurtful, but that didn't mean that this woman hadn't escalated them since then... If they were anything close to the tasks that he, Evan, David, and Sawyer had had to complete, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The mention of another person behind the doors, however, piqued his interest. A woman, the same woman who had spoken to them in the basement all those weeks ago. That certainly was an interesting development, and he hoped that whoever this 'acquaintance' was, that he was safe.

"The man you spoke to was Daniel. His girlfriend - her name is Keiari - was visited by Teddy, and from what Evan tells me, there was another person who also interacted with the man, although I don't know much about that. Teddy..." he lowered his voice, acutely aware that every word was being listened to, "He actually went into Keiari's room during the last switch. She was in there alone the whole time, I don't think she ever had a roommate. From what she told me he was fine with her, but his presence alerted our kidnapper. Or at least, who I assume kidnapped us, the only description I have is that she's large, Asian, and that she personally murdered someone in a previous game that Geoff was a participant in. Anyway, the woman, she burst into the room with a gun and chased Keiari until she had her backed up into a corner. Luckily the gun jammed, but Keiari got tazed pretty badly."

He sighed, "The only reason I ask about Katherine talking to Teddy is because prior to these events, Keiari apparently tried to bargain with our captor too, saying she'd do anything to keep her loved ones safe. I'm worried something similarly awful might happen to Katherine because of her speech."

[Dorian F. Blund]

Ethan really didn’t sound sure of himself when he spoke of Geoff; he had a suspicion that he, too, wasn’t really certain what to make of the guy yet, but saying it straight-up wouldn’t do him any good.

Well, at least his people analysis skills still worked even after all this. That was a relief.

“I see.” His answer was neutral, but within, Dorian was deep in thought. An escape room. From what he knew about the game, the ladies involved had no reason to think the bullet was real, so they were all most certainly terrified to find themselves in that situation right after waking up tied up in a cold, dirty basement with a bunch of strangers. Which means they had most likely screamed and cried and begged. Honestly, he would have rather bought that Geoff was too scared for his own life to disobey; he could imagine that happening. But doing it because he thought it was a game… just for it to INDEED be a game? Didn’t that sound like too much of a coincidence that the only guy who thought none of this was real was the perpetrator in the only game where no one died, and got something out of it too? “I wonder what kind of escape rooms he’s been in before, to think they would have had the budget to pay so many talented actors. Or would have these many players at once.” It wasn’t accusatory per se, but it was a seed of doubt. Sometimes not saying what one thought openly was for the best.

"I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault but I don't think she really believed me... I think she thinks that if she'd have won the game, the three of you would have gone free and she would have been the one who stayed behind. She's not upset with you at all; she's mad at herself for losing, not mad at you for winning."
That matched what Dorian had been thinking well enough… but a sentence in particular stuck out to him, the last one. “She's not upset with you at all; she's mad at herself for losing, not mad at you for winning."

Ethan could tell that Dorian was doubting himself, that he was scared of her opinion of him. He’d read right through him.

Dorian recoiled from the wall, only a couple steps, arms close to his body, lips firmly pursed. Part of him wanted to withdraw still the same person he’d entered this place with, but already he’d blown his cover twice; he could still feel the sticky sensation of barely dried tears on his cheeks and arms. He’d failed. Should he just leave? What was the point if he couldn’t even do this right?

Dorian could barely listen to Ethan’s words as he pondered whether to cut the conversation short or simply step aside and hope his neighbor would get bored of not receiving an answer. He barely took note of whatever he was saying about his roommate… until Teddy’s name was brought up again. Quickly his brain tried to reconnect to the conversation, clumsily refilling the holes he had missed. He had mentioned… Daniel? Was that it? A man dating said roommate, named… damn, had he missed it? Kei-something? She apparently wasn’t the only person who had interacted with his brother-in-law, which only further worried him; how may games had he been forced to participate in?

He was barely trying to grasp on the surprising discovery that this Kei-person hadn’t met him in a game, but within the safety of her own room – not unlike Noah’s encounter with Mystery Woma, though from what he understood, Teddy had actually ENTERED and let himself be seen – when Ethan retold the frightening events of a woman whose description could only match his mother-in-law bursting into the room, chasing a poor girl down with a gun just to end up tazing her. Unwillingly, Dorian flinched. He wished he could be shocked, but after what had happened in the boiler room… he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t in character for her, when she had already shot an innocent woman a few weeks ago, and Huxley…

“That’s his mother.” He let out, his voice betraying his conflicted outrage. “The woman who chased her. That’s Teddy’s mother.”

This raised so many questions. Why had she punished Kei if her child was the one who had willingly entered the prisoner’s room? How had he managed so without his mother’s approval, and why had he done so? It was starting to bother him how little he knew about the man, but he was pretty sure he had lived close to his mother all his life; and yet, he’d gone and acted behind her back? That sounded… so unlike what he’d heard of him.

Dorian looked up at the wall. Minutes ago, he’d considered leaving; now, he felt like he couldn’t. With Annie dead, technically, he wasn’t related to her family members anymore, though he’d acted like he still was. Yet, he felt a sudden sense of responsibility towards his brother-in-law. His little sister had cared for him deeply, yet she wasn’t there to look out for him anymore. But Dorian was.

"The only reason I ask about Katherine talking to Teddy is because prior to these events, Keiari apparently tried to bargain with our captor too, saying she'd do anything to keep her loved ones safe. I'm worried something similarly awful might happen to Katherine because of her speech."

“… She never mentioned anything like that happening to her, but I didn’t see her again after the freezer, so whatever might have come from her “speech”, I have no way to know.” His answer was sharp and fast. He needed to put himself together and get back in the conversation properly, if he wanted to get the information he needed. Maybe this could be his new purpose.

And yet…

Dorian frowned. Until now he’d tried to avoid saying too much about the game he’d just been in to avoid having to give too many details; surprisingly enough, Ethan had just heard that this “Daniel” guy was in one, and hadn’t asked about his well-being. Perhaps he did not care for him too much. But if his girlfriend was in the other room…

I would want to know.

“Say, about this ‘Daniel’ you mentioned… I can’t be quite sure, because I was gassed before anything could happen, but… in the game I was last in, people had to draw cards to decide their fate and… … I could be wrong, but I suspect this man may not… be able to speak anymore. I don’t know this Kei… the woman with you, but perhaps… she might need to know.”

[Ethan Kaul]

“I wonder what kind of escape rooms he’s been in before, to think they would have had the budget to pay so many talented actors. Or would have these many players at once.”

It seemed as though Dorian was thinking along the same lines as Ethan was. While he didn't want to accuse Geoff of anything - after all, he'd not said anything out of the ordinary when they'd spoken before, and had in fact been a thoroughly decent guy - it was pretty strange that he could believe he was in an escape room for as long as he had. Hadn't he seen the panic on people's faces in the basement, the fear in their eyes as they woke up somewhere totally unknown? The light had shattered, injuring a few people; did he think that was for show? He sighed in contemplation. Maybe it was best to be wary of Geoff, considering he'd already chosen not to trust Teddy. 

"Apparently some expensive ones, or he's never been in one in his life and has no clue what they're like," he frowned, "It's definitely strange, that's for sure..."

He decided not to elaborate further, not wanting to start up a witch hunt against Geoff. From what he'd said before, there were others who mistrusted him, so Ethan and Dorian weren't alone in that respect, but there was no need to point fingers just yet. If the man turned out to be innocent, he didn't want to have been so against him that it would have hurt him in any way.

Dorian was silent throughout Ethan's whole speech until he mentioned their kidnapper. His insistent interjection that Teddy was the woman's son made his eyebrows raise, before his brow furrowed in both confusion and disbelief. It made sense for Teddy to be related to their captor - why would he be able to freely walk the halls otherwise? - but the fact that Dorian sounded so... sure made him even more worried than before. If he was correct in his assumption, Teddy could be more dangerous than he'd previously realised, and any association with him could lead to definite tragedy. 

"How do you know that?" he asked finally, "Have you seen either of them?" 

If they looked alike, it would be a natural assumption that they were somehow related. Keiari hadn't given a physical description of Teddy, and Ethan had no clue what either of them looked like, but if Dorian did... 

Ethan could sense that the man knew more than he was letting on, and that begged the question of why? Why wouldn't he be shouting any little piece of information from the rooftops? Surely it was clear that Ethan was mostly in the dark, why wouldn't he want to help him?

Because he didn't owe him anything. Nobody in there owed him anything, and yet they had freely offered up intel when asked, leading him to blindly assume that Dorian would do the same. Perhaps he needed to be even less open and trusting than before, who knew what everyone else was hiding? 

Luckily, Dorian didn't seem to have heard about anything involving Teddy and Katherine, which came as a small relief. Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before her words would come back to bite her. He'd experienced it on a small scale when repeatedly trying to deface his rooms led to him being thrust into a game, and Keiari knew first hand how potent their kidnapper's wrath could be. No news was maybe a tiny victory, but it wasn't total immunity from harm.

“Say, about this ‘Daniel’ you mentioned… I can’t be quite sure, because I was gassed before anything could happen, but… in the game I was last in, people had to draw cards to decide their fate and… … I could be wrong, but I suspect this man may not… be able to speak anymore. I don’t know this Kei… the woman with you, but perhaps… she might need to know.”

Ethan frowned once more, taking in the man's words. Why would Daniel not be able to speak anymore? Did he have laryngitis? He supposed that would be the preferable answer, his mind not wanting to admit to his actual fears of something more permanent. It wouldn't be a total surprise; after all, the woman had forced David to blind himself, so any other form of mutilation and sensory deprivation wasn't exactly shocking news, but...

He couldn't shake the feeling that something similar could have happened to Dorian. Nothing to do with speech, obviously, but something similarly debilitating. It was unlikely that the woman who had already murdered three people to his knowledge and made an attempt at a fourth would just stop at the tongue, especially when others had drawn cards to decide their fates too...

"What... what do you mean?" he began slowly, an unsettling sick feeling creeping its way into his stomach, "Dorian, what happened to Daniel?"

Deep breath, "And... did anything happen to you too?"

What had his card said?
 

[Dorian F. Blund]

"How do you know that? Have you seen either of them?"
He was waiting for such a question to come, after all, the information he was sharing was much too juicy to be ignored, surely a bright mind such as Ethan’s wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to find out more. The fact he sounded so sure of himself must even be suspicious.

Still… Even though he knew knowledge was power, and that was what all the prisoners needed to stand stronger, Dorian was unsure how much he should say. He had told everything he knew to Hannah, but he trusted her more than he did this man he wasn’t familiar with. There was no way to make sure she wouldn’t be spreading all that she’d heard from him around to all, but… he wanted to believe she would be picky with what she said to whom, and he still felt more exposed here speaking directly to the man.

“I met Teddy’s mother before we were brought here. She used to be a match-maker. She introduced me to my wife. I’ve never met Teddy, but she said herself in the last game that her son had helped her to prepare the… ‘event’, and Daniel knowing his name from another prisoner proved to me it can only be him.” Half-truths, Dorian reminded himself. They’re a liar’s greatest weapon. Don’t say anything that’s provably false. “I’m not the only one of her past client’s to be here; a prisoner named Claudette told me she had issues with her in the past before she disappeared; I would assume to… plan all of this. Apparently, she got fired from her job because of her and didn’t take it so well, though I think that is rather obvious at this point.”

He wasn’t sure how Claudette would feel knowing he kept using her as a cover (that was a lie – he knew she would be pissed); but letting others know he wasn’t the only one here to have personally met their captor was an easy way to take some focus away from him. After all, the more people were involved, the less likely they were to antagonize him, right? Whether he deserved it or not.

There was a moment of silence after Dorian made his revelation. Patiently, he pursed his lips, waiting for any kind of reaction; surely he must still be trying to take in what he had said. Maybe he was even reaching to this Kei-woman. It was still unclear to him how close to this Daniel he was, if at all; maybe he only knew him because his roommate had mentioned him. Or… maybe Ethan was currently staring at the wall in horror thinking about the fate of his now mute friend.

When finally, he spoke up again, it was with a shaky voice, the words coming out slowly as if he was reluctant to speak them into existence and await an answer. Dorian was already preparing himself to respond when Ethan’s last words broke the heavy silence that had only briefly settled between them.

"And... did anything happen to you too?"

Dorian’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. His fingers twitched in nervous anticipation; he didn’t have any, yet he could still feel them moving as clearly as he might have the day before. He restrained himself from looking down; they wouldn’t have magically reappeared while he was occupied as much as he would want them to. He would have to get used to these phantom feelings sooner or later; without treatment, they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

Still, he needed to say something, anything, before Ethan came to his own conclusions. He needed to give him some kind of satisfying answer. But, as much as he searched, he couldn’t find any; so he said all he could come up with.

“Nothing money can’t replace.”

Wealth. That was his only remaining advantage he had over everyone else in this place now that Cassim was gone, and he needed to use it. If not to sway Mrs Baker… therapeutically. Whatever she did to him, he could fix if, WHEN he would get out, with the right amount of checks. The only thing he couldn’t replace was a stolen life; death was all he needed to worry about for now. He couldn’t think about his stolen limbs, the excruciating pain, how humiliated and tired he felt, and how exhausted his brain was trying to pretend he could handle all the loses and the mourning when nothing had ever prepared him for this. Not now. He didn’t have that kind of luxury.

Taking a deep breath, Dorian readied himself to spill the beans. Speaking of what had happened to others was easier than retelling his own experience, even more when he hadn’t been there to see it done to them.

“There were seven of us, all men, we were tied up in a boiler room, unable to move. The Asian woman was there, with seven numbered cards prepared by her son. She asked us all to pick a number, then revealed to us what was on the cards of our choosing.” He swallowed, trying to do so as silently as possible. He didn’t need to go on with too many details; better cut to the chase. It would be easier that way. “An older, bald black man got one with the drawing of an ear. A lankier dark-skinned man got an eye. An acquaintance of mine, Mr. Mathias Berg, a tooth. A younger white man with glasses got a card with a heart; I am assuming he must have won a wedding as well, though I have no idea to whom. Your acquaintance, Daniel, got a tongue and… basing myself on… what I can gather from experience” It was so difficult to phrase his sentences when trying not to reveal something so sensitive about himself… when that very personal experience was the key to decipher his thoughts. “… I’m afraid he most likely no longer has it.” He whispered, before adding shortly. “I’m sorry.”

Dorian took a short pause, bracing himself. He didn’t know whether Ethan had been keeping count; with himself, that only made for six men. There was only one left to finish the set.

He inhaled deeply, before letting all the air in his lungs out at once. He had been beating around the bush avoiding the subject long enough. He knew, because they had all met each other at the same time, that Ethan knew the unfortunate victim; he had no idea how close they were; hopefully, not too much. But he couldn’t keep this information a secret from him forever. There had been 5 other survivors; he would hear about it sooner or later. Maybe it was best to deal with it now. Get it done and over with.

“… The seventh man was the older gentleman who accompanied us in the clutter, sir Huxley. Though I could briefly glance at his card, I was unable to really tell what the drawing was supposed to represent, but…”

There it was. Deep breaths. Just say it.

“… He lost the game.”

[Ethan Kaul]

As Dorian explained that he'd actually known the woman before he'd been kidnapped, a shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been to realise that he knew their captor, that she was the person who had introduced him to his wife. Not only that, but there was another person involved as well, a woman named Claudette. This really was all about matchmaking then, or so Ethan assumed, but why was she killing people if that was the case? It was strange for her to have kidnapped so many people to marry them off, but even stranger for her to murder potential brides and grooms. The only thing he could think of was that she had a surplus of people or there was too many of one gender and not enough of the other... but why would she kidnap them in the first place? Not to mention that the killings themselves sounded random, based on fate, much like the marriages.

God, he really wished he could find a pen and some paper. He wanted to write everything down to remember it, to try and solve this mystery. He let out a soft sigh, resting his head against the wall as he thought hard.

"So... I'm just throwing this out there, but you and Claudette knew her beforehand, right? And a lot of us knew each other before being in this place... so I'm thinking they're not random kidnappings, not considering we're all so connected in some way. But what I don't get is the motive behind it all. Obviously matchmaking plays a part, but people are being murdered too... I wish I could understand why," he confessed. All this simultaneous theorising and worrying was making his brain hurt. Diagnosing a patient was a piece of cake in comparison to this.

"Maybe that sounds stupid though, I don't know. I feel like just being in this place has lost me fifty IQ points, honestly."

Ethan's fingers started tapping against his knee unconsciously. For some reason, he felt himself becoming more and more anxious about what Dorian might say, what he might reveal about what this person had done to him. He knew it would be a hell of a lot worse than what had happened to him, that was for sure.

“Nothing money can’t replace.”

His jaw almost dropped open at that, his eyebrows raising. What did he mean by that? Admittedly, he didn't know much about Dorian, but he would need to have a hell of a lot of money to not only 'replace' whatever he had lost, but also fund the therapy needed to help his mental state. Ethan was under no illusion that being kidnapped had taken a toll on even the strongest victim; to have been in a game and have lost a limb was likely to have been massively detrimental. Why was he so... almost casual about this?

"Well, uh, look," he cleared his throat, "I'm not going to push you or anything to tell me what happened to you. But... outside of here I'm training to be a doctor, and I have a lot of contacts in medicine. Really good surgeons, some of the best in the state, if not the country. If you need me to... I don't mind talking to them and seeing if they'll help you with... whatever you need help with. It's not much of an offer, but I want to help in any way I can."

As Dorian relayed the events of his game to him, Ethan felt sicker and sicker. It was such a simple task, and yet it had had such horrendous consequences. Teddy had been involved; the man who had seemed so harmless from what he'd learned from Keiari and Daniel had created the cards that would determine their fates. What part of them they would lose. An ear, an eye, a tooth, a heart, a tongue...

Dorian hadn't said what he'd gotten, and Ethan was almost too afraid to ask. He'd said he wouldn't push and he wasn't going to, but god... whatever it was, it was surely worse than his stupid toenail. And to think he'd been having a mental breakdown over something so trivial. He felt ashamed.

“… The seventh man was the older gentleman who accompanied us in the clutter, sir Huxley. Though I could briefly glance at his card, I was unable to really tell what the drawing was supposed to represent, but… He lost the game."

His heart stopped. Huxley. Huxley, the kind older man who he'd spent two weeks with, who'd comforted him and chatted to him and worked out with him, even though Ethan knew he hadn't enjoyed it. The nutty professor, the former ballet dancer, the crazy party-goer, the man who hid his depression behind a smile and some wild stories. He was gone. He lost the game. He wasn't coming back.

"Shit," Ethan whispered, his whole body deflating. He knew people were bound to die in there, and yet his brain hadn't registered Huxley as even being a possibility. He couldn't be. He was too kind, too good...

When he'd heard about the other deaths, he'd been sad, obviously, but he hadn't known them. He hadn't really known Huxley either, but their two weeks together had brought him closer to the man, had given him some form of happiness even in that hellhole. And now, he was dead.

“Just look at me. A stupid, pathetic old man, making a fool of himself wherever he goes. Truth is... No one would even care if I died here, so.. why worry?”

"I'd care."

He'd meant it all those weeks ago when he'd said that he'd care if Huxley died, but he hadn't believed it could ever happen. He'd felt so certain that they'd be out of there before they knew it.

Now he was left to do it without him. 

"I... I was roomed with Huxley, in the first room I was in. He..." Don't cry don't cry don't cry, "He was a good man. I told him we'd find a way out together... He said that nobody would care if he died, but..."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingernails digging into his thighs, feeling stupid for crying when Dorian had been through hell and back, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be getting emotional over a man I only just met in here, but... God I hope he didn't die thinking that nobody cared about him. He deserved to live..."

[Dorian F. Blund]

“No… that sounds really reasonable.” It was, after all, precisely the reasoning Dorian had thought of himself. He had a strong feeling that Cassim and Kamala at least were brought here because of him (the fact he’d been made to watch them both in their last moments was too strong of an evidence); Katherine and Della probably through that connection as well. Two of his employees were here too, it couldn’t be a simple coincidence. He had no idea if Claudette personally knew any prisoner before arriving here; if she didn’t, it might put in question this theory unless she had been a last minute choice from the madwoman, yet… “I think it’s a chain. She kidnapped one person, studied them, their loved ones, and then picked some people they knew, then some people these other people knew, and so on so forth until she had everyone she needed.”
Which, once again, pointed at him as a prime subject of blame. He wondered how far the chain went; if they formed connections between all the victims, how many of them could end up having been tortured and killed simply for knowing him or someone he knew?
Dorian shivered.

Had Ethan come to this conclusion as well? If so…

Thankfully, the man seemed currently distracted, and Dorian was much too glad that the wall between them prevented him from seeing his reaction to his statement. Ethan did not know his status, or at least he hoped so. Surely, he must now think him crazy, or at the very least delusional. Yet, Dorian was serious; as serious as a man in denial over his own suffering could be.

"Well, uh, look. I'm not going to push you or anything to tell me what happened to you.” Dorian winced; he knew that tone. But? “But... outside of here I'm training to be a doctor, and I have a lot of contacts in medicine. Really good surgeons, some of the best in the state, if not the country. If you need me to... I don't mind talking to them and seeing if they'll help you with... whatever you need help with. It's not much of an offer, but I want to help in any way I can."

So, he had been right when he had thought him some kind of medical professional based on his attitude in the basement; or well, he was only ‘training’ to be one, apparently. This surprised him a bit; he’d acted very responsible and serious for someone who, by all means, doesn’t fully know what he’s doing yet. Had it been arrogance? No… it hadn’t sounded like so to him. More like someone trying to make himself useful and take control of the situation for the good of all. Just like Dorian had.

For the first time in… much too long, Dorian caught himself thinking with the same mindset he used to have back in his old life. Ethan seemed like a rather intelligent, dedicated, reasonable young man; the kind of youth he could see himself giving an internship to, hoping to see a young mind form into an experienced one. Not that he was the most appropriate for a healer in training, yet Dorian found himself chuckling lightly under his breath; he really did think like an old man already, watching the younglings grow like he was a hardened old CEO who had seen it all in his old age. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed, but this felt somewhat good. He wished he could return to the times when applications were one of his biggest headaches. Those were good times.

“I appreciate the offer.” With all this, he’d almost forgotten that Ethan’s proposal had been for something far from pleasant, yet he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit lighter now. “I happen to have some good contacts as well, though other prisoners could use any help you might give. Actually…” Dorian found himself pondering, thinking back to when he had offered Katherine to annul any union that took place here by force once they all got out. And Ethan didn’t speak like someone who has met a few good doctors, but rather someone with genuine connections, making him wonder if he might come from a family with a history of renown medics. “… if we both make it out, reach out to me, won’t you? I will have a lot of paperwork and requests to work through, and I could potentially use the assistance of someone like you.”

Was it foolish to speak as if they would ever get out? Possibly. At this point, Dorian knew it was no longer a question of when, but of IF he could ever escape with his life, and at what cost. But focusing on this, what he could do, how to put his money to good use, was all he could think of so not to lose his mind. Maybe he really was only worth the amount of dollars in his bank account.

I wonder what it would have been like to meet him in other circumstances. Would he have thought the same of him then he did now? Perhaps, perhaps not; yet, he was truly curious how that encounter would have gone then, and that was a curiosity he hadn’t felt for some time now.

There was a long, dreadful silence after his revelation; just what he needed, he realized, to make his nerves spike right back to what they had been before he had relaxed at all, trying to comfort himself with the knowledge Ethan could never see quite how affected he was. Now, Ethan was the one seemingly upset, and being unable to look him in the eyes didn’t feel quite as good anymore.

Hearing a singular sound, Dorian moved closer, pricking up his ears; he hadn’t been able to quite decipher what he had said, but he didn’t need to; he could feel the agony, the pain in that sole syllable.

They HAD been close, Dorian finally grasped with deep sorrow; he had hoped so dearly that they would have been nothing but mere acquaintances that had only briefly met for a few tense minutes in a basement, yet his reaction told him it was not the case.

Then, at last, Ethan spoke, and Dorian felt his heart become heavy; he had been so shocked when he had witnessed the old man’s death, feeling his entire body shake with disgust and horror, and he had wanted to come to his help; yet, there was someone who had actually bonded with him, someone who actually cared. Someone who, unlike him, had probably never considered it a “chance” that the one to die was the oldest person present.

Why did he keep making everything about himself? True, a lot of people he treasured had lost their lives here, but it wasn’t like he had ever been any good at showing it to them; could he really complain about mourning people who may as well have never known he cared about them at all? Huxley was only an old man he’d spoken to a couple times, and their first time, had spent the time rolling his eyes at his inadequacy; and still, he’d pitied himself for once again witnessing the death of someone he knew. But really, who was he to feel so sorry for himself when he’d barely known the man? Ethan was clearly hurt by the event, unlike him, not for himself, but for the actual victim. It was for the best that he had been the one present to see the crime rather than Ethan; what did he feel so bad about?

“… I’m sorry.” Dorian spoke at last; how he regretted now his lack of tact. ‘He lost the game’, he’d said. Was that really the best he could come up with? Was that all the old man deserved? “I didn’t know…” you two were friends, he meant to say, but never did. It didn’t change anything what he had thought; he still should have been more careful. “I wanted to help him, but… she gassed us before anyone could do anything. I didn’t… see him die, but,” He needed to explain things more properly, he was aware, but he must be careful how he phrased himself; he didn’t want to give the young man false hopes thinking that maybe Huxley might still be alive somewhere. “Without proper care I… highly doubt he could have made it. And our captor was clearly not interested in saving him.” Because she stabbed him, he thought. I woke up with his blood on my clothes. No, he couldn’t say that. It wouldn’t be right to overshare just to clear his conscience.

What now? He had no energy, no will, no ability to comfort anyone in his current state, when he could barely pull himself together, when he could still feel the remnants of tears on his face. But he couldn’t possibly leave the younger man alone with his thoughts. What did one say to someone who was mourning?

Dorian thought back to everything everyone had ever said to him after Annie’s death, then Kamala’s, then Cassim’s. I’m so sorry. That’s terrible. They didn’t deserve this. They’re in a better place now. Those platitudes, he’d heard them so many times, and they’d never helped him once. Vomiting them back to someone else now would feel so cynical; but then, what else could Ethan want to hear?

“… When I first came here, I never really took Katherine seriously. I thought her superficial, simple-minded, somewhat of a nuisance too. I never bothered to look further than my first impression of her, because wasting time on someone I could get nothing out of was wasting money. But after two weeks here, my view of her changed. And I came to care for her.” Dorian pursed his lips, momentarily stopping the stream of words flowing from his mouth. Where was he even going with this? Why did he have to bring her back up now? “She’s not the only person here I did not care for until I found myself locked up in a room with or next to them. What I’m trying to say is… I don’t think it’s bad of you to be emotional over someone you didn’t know for so long. I might have believe so before, but I don’t now. Everyone here needs someone to attach themselves to, for better or worse… and you cared for him. I think he must have known that. You seem like a good lad, and he might have been eccentric, but he was no idiot. I’m sure he could tell you were genuine.”

Could he really be sure? Could he swear it? No. But that was what he wanted to believe, and… surely, it would do Ethan some good to believe it as well.

[Ethan Kaul]

“No… that sounds really reasonable.”

Relief washed over Ethan at Dorian's words, for a reason he couldn't quite comprehend. It was... nice in a way to get the man's approval; he'd assumed that Dorian wasn't his biggest fan, or at the bare minimum was wary of him, so he was glad that they were at least on the same page theories-wise. His addition to Ethan's theorising also made sense. A chain seemed to be precisely how it had been done, after all, so many of them knew each other beforehand, too many for it to be a total coincidence. How else would he have been locked up with his crush, his enemy, a former classmate, and a random hookup, amongst other familiar faces? Their kidnappings had to have been planned, which somehow made it worse than if he had just been an unfortunate passer by. How long had this person been watching him, working out his habits? How many times had they followed him home, watched him leave work, stared at him from the shadows to find his weak spots? Ethan shuddered, goosebumps rising on his arms. If only he'd known...

"It's just... scary to think about. It could have been any of our loved ones..." Not that he had many outside of Keiari. Mina, Taylor... But then again, judging by the fact Freya was there, even the most tenuous connection could have been used, "The fact that this was pre-planned makes it worse somehow. She must have been watching us for weeks, months..."

He frowned, thinking hard, "Do you think anyone else was involved? Other than Teddy, and that other woman you mentioned, would there be anyone else?"

Maybe it was a long shot, but with so many victims, the woman had either been planning this for an incredibly long time, or she had even more accomplices than they knew of. From what he'd heard, Teddy could only say his name, so he didn't seem like he would be very effective in relaying information back to their captor. That surely meant more people were involved, right?

“I appreciate the offer. I happen to have some good contacts as well, though other prisoners could use any help you might give."

Ethan nodded. He hadn't really expected Dorian to go along with it or to even need his help; if he had enough money to replace whatever limbs he'd lost, he must have some serious contacts. It made him curious about what exactly the man did for a living, and whilst it didn't seem like the right time to ask him what his job was, he was able to presume that it was a high-paying one. Still, he couldn't help but smile a little at Dorian's request. It felt good to be considered useful, and he wanted to help out as much as he could. Combining their contacts could be rather formidable in providing aid for any survivors, including themselves.

"I'll definitely take you up on that," he replied, "My parents have good connections in law and business as well, I'm sure I could convince them to help..."

Whilst he wasn't a hundred percent sure, he hoped that once he was back in med school and therefore back in their good graces, they'd be willing to offer their services. Keep them happy, and he could live a generally comfortable life. Those were words he'd lived by - he had always striven to be the best, and had remained on top no matter what he did - and it had made for an easy existence thus far.

That was assuming he could even go back to school once he got out, if he got out. It was likely that at some point he would be irreparably mutilated just like the rest, and even if he made it out with his body intact, in his current mental state it seemed unlikely that he would be able to cut open a body or even look at a patient without some form of traumatic response. It was a terrifying thought, as Ethan couldn't imagine a life without medicine. It had been his dream for years; without it... who was he? Everyone knew him as 'the doctor', everyone looked up to him for his achievements, and he could lose all of that because of that evil woman.

The same woman who had taken Huxley's life. 

Trying hard to suppress the uncontrollable panic he could feel rising in his chest, he started to count down from ten. Ten, nine, eight... It had always worked before, but this time it was becoming harder and harder to breathe. How stupid it was for the reality of the situation he was in to have only hit him in that moment; how terrified he felt for the people he had grown to care about. This wasn't just about people being hurt, it was now about people getting killed. Everything he had gone through was trivial compared to that.

Seven, six, five...

The rushing in his ears almost drowned out Dorian's apology, not that he had anything to apologise for. If he'd have helped, he'd be dead too, and that was the last thing Ethan wanted. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anybody's fault but hers.

"It's... it's fine, Dorian, you weren't to know..." he choked out, hating how much his voice wobbled, "You couldn't have done anything more..."

His whole body shook with a combination of emotion and fear, tears finally falling from his eyes as much as he tried to stop them. But as sad as he was, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of self loathing. There were people out there who had known Huxley for years, had loved him dearly, and yet here was Ethan who had known him for two short weeks crying like he'd just lost his father when they were close acquaintances at best. It was disgusting how weak he was when he'd promised to be strong, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Weak or strong, nothing was going to bring back Huxley, or any of the lives that had been lost and would inevitably be lost. It was useless. He was useless. 

Four, three, two, one...

“… When I first came here, I never really took Katherine seriously. I thought her superficial, simple-minded, somewhat of a nuisance too. I never bothered to look further than my first impression of her, because wasting time on someone I could get nothing out of was wasting money. But after two weeks here, my view of her changed. And I came to care for her.”

Dorian's description of his initial feelings for Katherine hit hard for Ethan. He'd felt similarly about Huxley; not that he'd ever thought him unintelligent, but he'd certainly not seen him in the best light. And then, he'd began to see the person beneath the man's odd exterior, and he'd grown rather fond of him. He hoped Huxley knew that, that the professor had realised how much Ethan cared for him. They hadn't seen each other in weeks, and yet he'd hoped that when they were reunited, they could hug, and this time he wouldn't have yelled at him for invading his personal space. And now... now that couldn't happen. 

Still, his speech held some comfort in it, which Ethan was surprised about. He'd almost expected to be judged for his open display of emotion, and yet the man who he'd viewed to be stoic and uncomfortable with such things had instead provided him with supportive words to try to alleviate his pain. That... that meant more to him than he could properly articulate. Perhaps that place was making him mad after all.

"Thank you... Dorian... that... that means a lot," his voice was soft as he wiped at his eyes furiously, not wanting Keiari to see him crying when she inevitably stepped out of the bathroom, "I suppose this place does have the tendency to create unexpected bonds... Thank you for not judging me for it. I'm not normally this... emotional."