TTRIA 38

vThen she pushed open the small door used for passing food and extended her hand. It was a very pale and delicate hand. There were no blemishes or hideous scars as he’d imagined—just a clean hand.

“I’m not actually suffering from a skin disease.”

I’m just unjustly confined here. The whispered voice tempted the protagonist again. I want to see you. I’m curious about you. I want to see your face.

Entranced by the pale hand, the protagonist reached out. The fingertips that lightly touched gradually intertwined more. Grasping her hand, the protagonist realized nothing was happening and gained courage. Then he opened the door.

Creak. The sound of old hinges echoed through the silent interior. The audience fixed their gazes on the scene beyond the door. A beautiful woman with long, flowing hair smiled brightly at the protagonist and the audience.

At the same time, the set changed. The door and partition vanished, revealing the attic’s scenery. A small iron bed, a nightstand, and an unusually luxurious, massive wardrobe were all that filled the space. In the dim attic, under faint lighting, the woman took the protagonist’s stiffened hand.

“Now do you believe me?”

She guided his hand to her cheek and smiled.

“Look at this. I’m perfectly clean. No disease.”

“Then why were you locked up here alone?”

“They said it’s because they cherish me too much. They called this attic my nest. A safe fortress where no danger can reach.”

Is wrapping confinement as protection a common trait of those with something to hide? Jeff couldn’t hold back a scoff as he stared at the stage. The indignant protagonist resolved to escape the villa with the woman, but she hesitated. Doubting his love, she sought confirmation to trust him.

“Draw me, Eddie. If you truly love me, your feelings will surely show in the drawing. I want to confirm that.”

The protagonist willingly agreed. The sketchbook, already filled with drawings of dead praying mantises, had one last page. He decided to adorn it with her. The woman watched his sketchbook with intrigued, shining eyes and said.

“Why did you draw those?”

“Oh, it just happened… Do they seem creepy to you?”

“No, not at all. They’re beautiful.”

She smiled enigmatically.

“I think struggling to survive is noble.”

“I think so too! When I first saw this one, I felt so sorry for it. There was no way I could save it. So I drew it with a mourning heart. I’m someone who witnessed the desperate end of its life.”

Feeling a connection with her, the protagonist shivered with joy. He began to draw her with a happy heart.

“But it’s too dark here to draw. We need light.”

Spotting a lantern, the protagonist placed it on the table and sat. Holding a pen and looking at his subject, at that moment…

“…!”

The stage lights went out.

The audience began to murmur. Jeff quickly grabbed Cecil’s hand and scanned the surroundings. Then, a sudden light illuminated the front of the stage. In the softly spreading glow, Cecil’s profile caught Jeff’s eye. He was rigid.

“…”

Jeff turned to the stage. Behind the woman sitting primly on a chair, a massive shadow loomed.

It was a praying mantis.

“Don’t look.”

Jeff hurriedly reached out to cover Cecil’s eyes. Though he’d anticipated the image, seeing it made his heart sink. But Cecil only pulled Jeff’s hand down.

“…It’s okay, Jeff. Look closely.”

It’s not real.

“…”

Cecil was right. Upon closer inspection, it was just a crafted shadow. Not only the praying mantis shape but its movements were clunky and awkward. Plus, the woman’s own shadow was there too.

It was a trick referencing shadow puppetry. They fixed the light to show the woman’s shadow and illuminated a panel shaped like a praying mantis.

“…Right. Of course it’s not real.”

Sighing heavily, Jeff checked Cecil’s expression. Turning to meet his gaze, Cecil gave a faint smile. He seemed genuinely okay. Still, Jeff whispered softly.

“If it gets too much or feels uncomfortable, don’t hide it. Tell me, and we’ll leave right away.”

“I’m okay.”

“…Cecil.”

Meeting his subdued gaze, Cecil smiled wryly and replied.

“Alright. I’ll do that.”

They turned their attention back to the stage. The protagonist, shocked by the praying mantis shadow, faced the woman, who brandished a hidden knife. He tried to flee the attic, but click, a sound rang out. The attic door was locked from the outside.

Only then did the protagonist realize everyone in the villa was in on it. The role of a young man serving the lady was a trap to provide prey for the “monster.” The unusually large, luxurious wardrobe held nine dolls made from the hair of dead men. The protagonist was the tenth servant to visit the villa, the woman’s tenth doll.

But the protagonist cleverly killed the woman. Though he suffered a deep neck wound, unlike the male praying mantis that died headless, he survived. Taking the nine dolls, he left the villa, and the play ended.

The actors, shedding their roles, greeted the audience brightly. The crowd cheered for their passionate performance. But Jeff didn’t clap. Cecil, following his lead, only stared silently. As the audience began to rise, Jeff spoke.

“I need to meet Johnny.”

What was the end of the “her” he met? How much was true, and where did the fiction begin? He was curious.

“Let’s head back to the inn first.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to go now?”

“There’s still time until the meeting noted in the memo. And I don’t fully trust Johnny yet.”

Jeff scanned the surroundings, took Cecil’s hand, and stood. Stepping ahead through the crowd, he continued quietly.

“Let’s check the surroundings while leaving the theater and decide. If anything seems off, we need to grab Ego and run. It’d be better to move by car. We should hurry.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Under the shadow of his pressed-down cap, Jeff’s eyes darted quickly. The audience, still caught in the play’s afterglow, moved slowly, so he sought a less crowded exit. Striding through the narrow passage toward the lobby…

“…!”

Someone emerged from an unseen corner. “Ugh!” The figure, colliding face-first into Jeff’s chest, let out a short groan and fell. Startled, Jeff quickly reached out to support them.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes. I’m fine. My fault for not watching. Thanks for helping…”

Rubbing their sore nose, the person looked up. Their awkward smile began to twist.

“You…!”

Jeff’s face mirrored the shock as he recognized them.

“…Amy.”

“…When I left the orphanage with noona, I worked briefly for an old noblewoman. We needed money.”

Why didn’t he realize it after hearing it directly? With a little thought, it was obvious the siblings would be together.

“Why are you here?”

Johnny’s sister, Amy Max, glared at Jeff with a crumpled expression.