When I got to my feet, my legs trembled but could still bear weight. The chain between my shackles was so short I could only take tiny steps. The clinking of metal echoed as I left the bedroom and saw Jérôme and Simon sitting facing each other on the living-room sofa. Jérôme folded back his newspaper and, without a flicker of surprise, casually gestured to the seat beside them.“Come, sit here, Raymond. I’m sure you have many questions.”The handcuffs and leg irons forced me into an unnaturally proper posture as I sat. Jérôme folded the paper aside. Simon closed the book he’d been reading and fixed me with a solemn gaze. The three of us sat in silence, as though they were waiting for me to speak first—but I said nothing.I felt no anger. I simply stared at the two boys who had tried to kill me as though it were nothing. I did have questions: Why me? Why choose me? But I wouldn’t offer the topic first; if they read my thoughts, they’d read my next move. Jérôme and Simon had hunted me like a rabbit so far, but from here on, the fight would be different. I kept my mouth shut, and finally Simon broke the silence.“Raymond, you don’t speak first.”Simon said calmly. “We’ll wait until either you or I speak.”Though Jérôme and I had exchanged blows, we’d never held a proper conversation until now. Jérôme smiled.“That’s all right, Raymond. We’re ready to be honest with your questions.”Simon answered for me. “Not just answering questions—we’ll speak for ourselves. For example…” Simon fixed me with a steady look. “About what happened on Tuesday: neither Jérôme nor I expected you to be hiding in the stables.”I stared at Simon. “Then why wasn’t Jérôme startled?”Simon explained in a detached tone. “From what I observed, you have no real interest in this school. You enjoy studying but lack motivation; you have hobbies and tastes but no passion. Your passion is unnaturally focused on one thing. I guess you were obsessed with that mother of yours who kept you locked up until you came here. And after you met Jérôme, you showed interest in nothing but him. On Tuesday you were in an inexplicably good mood all morning. Considering your obsession, I warned Jérôme to be careful around you that day.”Jérôme added to the long explanation. “I never thought you’d hide in the stables. I only realized when I fell from my horse. Since I don’t lose my reason without cause, I had a hunch that this was the work of my dear Raymond. Sure enough, you charged at me to snatch my crop!”Jérôme’s voice grew excited. “Oh, I adore that about you. Your fighting spirit, Raymond. And your healthy body that backs it up.”Silence fell again. Jérôme watched me with a crazed grin, and Simon observed me with a chillingly emotionless stare. Both were utterly mad—and no wonder, given what they’d done to me tonight.I shifted my gaze between them. “Then it’s time I heard the reason for all this. Jérôme, Simon. Keep talking.”Simon replied evenly, “Are you asking why we abused you?”The word “abuse” stung my pride—I glared at him. “No. I’m asking why you made me care about Jérôme.”Jérôme let out a short laugh. “Ah, of course that’s your question! But, Raymond, you won’t get a neat answer. We do it simply because it’s fun.”I’d expected that answer—madmen care for no other motive. Yet I pressed on. “So what’s the reward of this game? Whip me, beat me, then wait for my revenge? Is that it? Just a boring power play?”Jérôme shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He stared into my eyes. “Power play, Raymond? No. Power play is for equals.”“…”“This is a hunting game. We play hunter; you play prey.”I leaned toward Jérôme, glaring into those reptilian green eyes. “You say we’re not equals? How sweet. And disappointing. Is that all? If you need someone else to entertain you, find another friend with Simon, Jérôme. I’m done with this dull game.”As I’d noted before, Jérôme enjoyed my hostility. He laughed again. “So my dear Raymond doesn’t like my courtship?”“Certainly this time is special.”Simon, who’d been listening silently, spoke softly. “Raymond is special.”“I don’t care what nonsense you spout; I’m not joining any more boring games—or this idiotic conversation.”I extended my cuffed wrists.“Let me go.”Jérôme leaned back into the sofa, crossing his legs and shaking his head.“Not yet.”I sneered. “Why? Afraid I’ll break your nose if I’m free?”He shook his head again—it was no use mocking him. Damn it. “No. It’s not over yet.”I asked without thinking, “What isn’t over?”There was no reply. Jérôme sank into the sofa and smiled at me. I turned to Simon. He picked up his closed book, slipped in the bookmark, and set it aside. If it wasn’t over, then it had to be more violence—but of a different kind from before.Jérôme had bound me a couple of times but never beaten me afterward. It seemed not to be his preference; he enjoyed me lunging at him. So what could he plan now that I was bound and helpless?They sat motionless on the sofa, simply watching me. Unable to bear the silence, I spoke first. “So? Going to roll up your sleeves and punch me? Or are you going to flog me with that crop? Which is it?”Jérôme answered, “It’s a bit awkward to clear up this misunderstanding now, but I really, really dislike using a riding crop on a person. It’s true, Raymond. Don’t look at me like that. I only used it because I had no choice. And I am sorry about that—it’s barbaric to whip someone.”I ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) was speechless at such nonsense, and merely stared at him in disbelief.Simon asked, “Have you ever had sex, Raymond?”That question stunned me. I glared at Simon. He wore his usual serious expression. Before I could reply, Jérôme interjected.“You were locked up by your mother for five years, right? You probably never even masturbated.”“You’re not quite that naive, Raymond,” Simon said. “Answer the question—have you had sex?”I stared at them, then forced out a reply. “No.”They fell silent, watching me. I had to buy time until I grasped their intentions, but how? They said nothing more, until Jérôme broke the quiet.“Then I guess we’ll be your first men.”A chill ran down my spine. No need to ask again; his meaning was clear. He intended to rape me. No—they intended to gang-rape me. Though it was only a single phrase, my mind went blank. My body froze. Yet, looking back, it felt a dreadful inevitability.They had inflicted every conceivable physical torment on me tonight. Attempted murder was the climax. Why would they stop at that? I recalled the primal dominance rituals hinted at in literature—animals forcing submission at the bottom of the hierarchy. Only an idiot would fail to consider sexual violence.As Jérôme said, during those five years under my mother’s lockup, I’d been oblivious to sexuality and had no education on the matter. That’s why I never imagined sexual retaliation from Jérôme or Simon. Sex was entirely alien to me. A wave of terror washed over me. With great effort, I forced my eyes open and glowered back at them.“You mean to rape me.”Simon answered. “Yes.”“So what are you waiting for?” I asked coldly. “Don’t just spout words—you’d better get hard first.”Jérôme laughed, but Simon responded. “This time truly is different.”I couldn’t dismiss Simon’s words. They must have done this before—this “hunting game.” Someone else had fought Jérôme and fallen into Simon’s trap, just as I had.The most likely predecessor was whoever had roomed with Simon before. He’d shared the room, eaten Simon’s breakfasts, watched films behind his back—and eventually, like me, stood naked before him.At that thought, I recalled Simon’s friend who’d disappeared into nowhere. A breadcrumb I’d overlooked. Simon’s skill must have sharpened over successive victims.There were surely more than one predecessors. My body bore the proof: not a speck of mud remained in my mouth or nose. My body smelled clean—Simon must have bathed me while I was unconscious, washed out my mouth, swabbed my nostrils, lathered my skin with towels.I could picture Simon’s gentle, precise hands. He had bathed me before; his touch on my skin was familiar. I’d shown him my body, allowed him to touch me—unaware that one day he might strangle me with those very hands. The realization struck me like a blow.I couldn’t quell the horror. My gut went cold. I was more afraid than betrayed. I’d been utterly deceived by Simon. Could there be another hidden traitor? Another hand ready to stab me in the back?Jérôme sprang to his feet, and I stiffened. He smiled briefly, then walked past me. Simon remained seated, still watching.“Must be tired, Raymond. It’s past nine o’clock.”Instead of answering, I asked, “Where’s Jérôme?”Simon rested his arm on the sofa’s armrest. “He went to get the key. He’ll free you.”Free me now? Why? I stared at Simon in confusion—but his words proved true. Jérôme soon reappeared with a key in hand.He knelt before me and unlocked the leg irons. I wanted to kick him in the face, but I had no strength; exhaustion overwhelmed me. My body felt as though it might collapse at any moment.Jérôme then released my handcuffs and rose. Miraculously, I was free. I looked at him and asked wearily, “So? What now? Shall I spread my legs? Should I ask nicely, since it’s my first time?”Jérôme waved me off. “What are you talking about? Raymond, you nearly died today. Go back to your room and rest.”Simon added, “George thinks I’m out for the weekend, so you’ll sleep alone tonight. Good night, Raymond.”I eyed them suspiciously, but Jérôme simply retreated to his sofa. It was surreal to hear him mention my near-death as though it were nothing.But I’d reached my limit. Whipped, nearly drowned, knocked unconscious—Simon stood before me offering a bed. My mind no longer worked. If they told me to go, I would rise without hesitation.I struggled to my feet; my legs still shook. Even standing made me dizzy, and my vision flickered. Without a word, I turned and left the room. As I closed the door, Jérôme called out a “Good night.” I slammed it shut in reply.I found myself in the right-hand corridor, standing dazed. There was no sound of pursuit or conversation behind me. At last, I made my way, unsteadily, to the left-hand corridor where my room lay. George glanced up from his magazine on the sofa, frowning.“Where have you been walking for hours?”“I got lost in the woods.”He didn’t believe me. With open suspicion—and a hint of curiosity—he said, “I told you, you know nothing about this school.”His words felt double-edged. But I had no strength for conversation—especially not with George. I entered my room and replied, “I was just lost.”I closed the door and looked around the unchanged space. Nothing looked different, and yet everything had changed. As I approached my bed, my body gave way as though it had been waiting for this moment. I wasn’t falling asleep—I felt as if I were dying.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.