Page 70 of Make Me Scream

I’m not Toy anymore, I’m Pet. I witnessed my predecessor get shot and killed. It would only be natural for me to have changed, to become fearful and compliant.

I cuff myself, hands behind my back, and step up to the cell bars.

He grips the spoon like a dog tugging his favorite bone, lest I try and rip it from his hands with my lips. What could I do with a spoon while my hands are bound? Still, he never makes a mistake. The only way to beat him is to think of something he could never imagine.

“How is it?” Master asks as I take my first bite. “Be honest with me. I’m not much of a cook.”

It’s the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in years. I doubt that’s because he did a good job.

“I like it a lot, Master.”

“I’m glad. If you are a good pet, I’ll make it for you again.”

Does he feel bad about Anne? Or does he think I’ll respond to the carrot better than the stick? He enjoys employing the stick — that’s half the reason we’re here. What if he took our escape attempt as a sign his methods need improvement, and he’s experimenting?

“When I bring my new Toy home,” Master says, “I expect her to be very, very unhappy. She’s going to make my life difficult until she’s learned to behave herself.”

I wouldn’t be surprised. I haven’t forgotten my first few days and weeks here.

“I want you to help her. Teach her what she’ll have to do if she wants to please me, and what will happen if she doesn’t.”

He’s making an admission that he failed. He couldn’t destroy Anne’s will to survive. He must have concerns about mine. Or he realizes that if he can’t break us completely, maybe we can do it to each other. I would have lost my strength if not for Anne’s. If this new toy sees in me nothing but defeat and resignation…

She won’t. For Anne, I won’t let that happen.

“So, you’ll help me, Pet?”

I nearly spit the risotto back in his face. This may be the last good meal I ever eat but I’d rather knock the bowl out of his hands than take another bite.

I have to play along. For Anne.

“Yes, Master.”

I won’t give up, and I won’t let this new girl give up either. I hope she manages to escape Master’s clutches, but if not, I’ll get her home, whatever it takes.

Chapter 16

I spend the rest of the night on my own.

Joel’s gone out to dinner with Martin, according to the text on my phone, so no one’s around when I get home. It’s just as well. I’m not in the mood to talk to them about what happened.

Apparently I was trapped in that box for more than five hours. Famished and livid, I need to eat, immediately. I duck into a diner and order a burger and fries, plus a bowl of cream of broccoli soup. I scroll my phone, catching up on Twitter, when Lane texts me a Dropbox link.

All of your drawings are in here,he says.I really liked them.

Scowling to myself, I tap the link and download the image gallery. I like them too, if I say so myself. There’s a lightness and richness to them; it’s evident I was having a good time — that I was in the zone. A flow state. Itisnice to know I can achieve that under some very strange circumstances.

Would Lane say it was because of the conditions? I don’t know. I’ve gotten on a tear plenty of times. Then again, those five hours were probably the most prolific of my life in terms of qualityandquantity.

It’s too bad the session had to end with such a dirty trick — it really ruined the whole experience. There’s no way I could go back in that sarcophagus and just draw without feeling pissed off.

Well… probably not. Maybe after I’ve had time to cool off I’ll change my mind — assuming Lane apologizes sufficiently.

Dinner calms my nerves. I stream an episode ofThe Officeas I eat, listening on headphones. By the time I clean my plate — I was easily hungry enough to eat it all — I feel a lot better. In truth, I understand what Lane was trying to do in that session. I’m still annoyed at him, though.

I completely forget about the belt I’m wearing until I get up to pay and leave. As I move I feel it… and the rod inside.

Oh hell.

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