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Drake raised himself up, like a mountain rising from the ocean. "That’s enough. Put the knife down, Elise. Hurting Dahlia won’t solve anything."
"Oh, fuck off," she growled.
The next few seconds were chaos. Elise sprinted around the table, holding her knife high above her head. The room exploded into shouts and screams. Payton jumped from his seat and yanked on the collar of my shirt, dragging me behind him. The fabric of the sweatshirt pushed hard at my throat, almost gagging me as I tumbled from my seat to the floor. Rolling over, I looked up to see Drake had managed to grab Elise’s knife hand. As strong as he was, she was filled with a mad strength, fueled by her terror of what Sam might do. She lunged forward, trying to tear her wrist from Drake’s grip. Unable to resist, she lashed out with her foot, kicking at my face. Payton batted her strike aside and joined Drake in grabbing Elise’s other hand. The two men together managed to drag her away.
Bong. "Sit. Finish your meal. Now."
Everyone froze at the sound of the chime. Elise stopped struggling and looked up toward the ceiling, her face going white.
"Did you make it worse?" Bri asked in a quiet and fearful voice, staring at Elise.
"I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to. I’m sorry."
"Sit," Sam said once more.
None of us wanted to disobey again. Drake ripped the knife from Elise’s hand and released her to go back to her seat. She did, her head lowered in shame or fear, I wasn’t sure which. Maybe it was both.
Payton helped me back to my feet and into my chair.
"Thanks," I muttered.
"Yeah, sure," Payton said and returned to his own seat.
Within moments we were eating again like nothing had happened. A big happy family. Sam said nothing else the rest of the evening. That night, as I lay in bed, my mind wandered to all the awful things Sam might punish us with. I couldn’t actually blame Elise for what she’d done. If I could have saved myself some awful torture, I’d have killed any of the other housemates. At least any of them but Drake. Could I bring myself to do that to him? If I were honest with myself, probably not.
The next morning at breakfast we were met with a new surprise. The no-name stranger in the suit was sitting at the table waiting for us. Drake and I were at the front of the group when we entered. Our abrupt pause at the sight of him caused the rest of the housemates to crash into us.
The man waved us in. "Come. Enjoy a hearty breakfast. You all have a busy day ahead."
With only the barest hesitancy, Drake took a step into the room. The look on his face wasn’t easy to read. Brow furrowed, confusion in his eyes, wariness in his movements. I didn’t like seeing him that way. It made my whole world unsteady and off balance. I liked it when he was calm and assured. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much it had helped me stay grounded and sane.
I still wasn’t sure if this was actually Sam or some subordinate or a partner. The assured and powerful way he carried himself made me think it was him. He really did act like he owned the place.
We sat. Elise looked incredibly uncomfortable when she saw her seat would be right beside the man, but made herself as comfortable as possible. The man who was probably Sam grinned at all of us, but the smile never reached his eyes. Those were harsh and cold.
"Well, how would everyone like a bit of sustenance?" He said, and lifted the dome off the meal.
I winced when I saw what was beneath. Raw sausage patties, uncooked eggs shattered and mixed with their shells and oozing across the tray, and moldy bread slathered in what looked, and smelled, like rancid butter.
The grin on his face faded when he saw the way we looked at the food. "What? You don’t like what I’ve provided? Ungrateful still, are we?"
Beside me, Drake swallowed hard, I could hear the audible click in his throat as he did. He stared at the man, mouth set in a thin angry line. The others kept their eyes down, gazing at their laps, too scared to say anything or even look the man in the face.
After dropping the dome with a crash, the man made a show of wiping his hands with a cloth napkin before standing and straightening his suit.
"I truly hope you enjoyed your little jaunt outside the other day. I must say, I’ve never seen such atrocious conduct in my dolls." He swept his gaze across us, but lingered on me when he spoke next. "You have missbehaved. As I look at all of you as my responsibility, a good steward of people must be willing to correct bad behavior." He took a few steps closer to the door, not even bothering to look at us as he continued talking. "I am not one for religion, but there is one line I’ve always enjoyed. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’ is how it goes, I believe. I’m paraphrasing, of course, but you get the idea."
"Holy shit," Payton muttered under his breath.
The man smiled once again. "Yes, Mr. Jafroodi. Holy shit indeed. At least to some believers. Anyway, you will now discover that your actions have consequences. Those will begin soon."
My hands trembled in my lap. I wished he’d come out and tell us what he wanted to do. This never ending dread was too much. It was almost worse than physical torture. The waiting and wondering. This was my fault. Elise was right. Why should everyone suffer because of me?
"Enjoy your breakfast," The man said. He then pulled a remote from his pocket and clicked a button, unlocking the door.
I jumped up. "Wait, stop."
The man froze, then turned back to face me. He moved slow, like a snake stalking a shivering and terrified mouse. "What did you say?"
