House of Stairs, House of Cards

A Pink Dormouse Production

 

He saw me today. Really saw me, I mean, not just doing that thing where He steps to one side at the last minute without really knowing why. The other two should be back on board tomorrow, maybe I should let them know, but then I don’t want to get their hopes up unnecessarily.

The ghost and his shadow. I know they have sex sometimes, usually when the others go away and I’m left to babysit. Yes, it disturbs me. I know they were at it before all this, I know I’d intervene if they hadn’t been, but the consent issue does still bother me a little. Maybe it’s true that He can see at night. I’ve just never been brave enough to test the theory.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t been sleeping together back then, would things have been different? Would we have known the truth about Him before it was too late?

So why do I stay? I stopped pretending I might get paid a long time ago. He was the only one who ever knew how to get at the money and for all I know it was all gone some time back.

They come into the room. I don’t remember ever seeing the pair of them out of their cabin this late since we got the ship. He looks right at me and sits down without looking away.

"You’re not dead then?"

"Neither are you." I reassure him.

"That remains to be proven."

 

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