Episode 9

ALLANA,

This guy is insane; he smashed the restaurant table and dragged me out like a rag doll. Now I'm here, sitting by his side, playing the role of a scolded child, all prim and proper. How I despise this man, wishing he’d choke to death on his meal.

And this time, he would, as I won’t even scream for help. I’d pretend I don’t see him, act as if I'm blind just to avoid aiding this fiend from hell. Oh, the cursed man.

I avoid looking at him, staring straight ahead instead, pretending he's not there. I’ll act as if he doesn't exist, which won’t be hard since I don’t care about his presence.

The maids begin serving food, and we help ourselves. I dare not glance at him at all, knowing he's seething with anger at me, but I couldn’t care less. If I can, I’d provoke him again, to teach him to respect me.

Yet it’s good to know I can make him lose his composure with a mere gesture. It’s enlightening to see his jealousy, and I’ll use that as leverage to irritate him further until he sends me away, considering there are guards outside. Each day, I'll exploit a weakness until he can't take it anymore.

His weakness is my advantage—perfect ammunition to end this marriage. He's doomed in my hands. I'll taunt him relentlessly.

Lunch ends, and he rises from the table alone, leaving me there. I also stand but decide to explore this enormous house, hoping I won’t get lost.

I start with the doors, each one revealing a surprising revelation behind it—things I never imagined a house could contain.

There's a library, a room with an enormous television, a grand room without a TV, a game room with billiards, bowling, and other games, a wine cellar brimming with bottles, and a gym.

All this on the ground floor. Each day I'll choose a different spot, and I'll drown in wine; being drunk seems like the only way to bear the devil.

I open the back door leading to the leisure area and am impressed by the pool and couches around a fire pit. It must be beautiful at night.

Everything's perfect, yet unworthy of its owner. At least he has good taste, although I find the house's colors rather dull.

Feeling a touch on my shoulder, I spin around in alarm.

It’s the maid who flirts with my husband, babbling things I couldn't be bothered to lip read. I turn my back on her and head towards the pool. If she dares push me in, she's in trouble; I swim better than a fish.

Looking ahead, I see a large room secured with padlocks. Glancing behind, I see the flirty maid enter, which seems like my chance to explore.

Curiosity drives me closer; the padlocks are massive. There's no window, only a door.

It must be his safe; I’ve dreamt of a room filled with dollar bills stacked high.

Wait, what if it's a room of weapons or drugs? Could he be a trafficker? With that thought, I realize I don’t even know the demon’s name.

But I need to find out.

Turning around, I notice someone flailing in the pool. I approach without hesitation, especially since it's an elderly woman. Diving in, I swim towards her, hauling her out of the water. She feels limp, breathing with difficulty.

I lay her on the edge, and she clings on. Climbing out, I pull her to safety, positioning her on her side.

She breathes heavily—how did she fall into the pool? It’s enormous. She sits up and mouths something I read on her lips.

"Thank you, ma'am."

I offer her a smile and embrace her warmly. After helping her stand, I notice the demon at the door, watching.

Why didn’t he help? He's only good at causing harm. I walk past him without a glance at his scarecrow face, leading the old lady to the kitchen, leaving her seated there.

She starts to speak, but this time I make it clear that while I can speak, I'm deaf. She covers her mouth, apologizing slowly for me to read her lips.

I smile at her and exit the kitchen, where the demon gestures for me to follow him to a part of the house I’ve yet to explore.

Inside, I see it’s an office—and not just any office but one resembling those in corporations, filled with oddities, books, and folders.

He motions for me to take a seat, and I comply. He then starts writing and hands me a note.

"Is there any surgery that could restore your hearing?"

"No, my uncles took me to a doctor who said it was irreversible."

He grimaces before writing again.

"I don't have the patience to write just to speak with you."

"Then learn Sign Language, so you can communicate with gestures."

His laughter booms, revealing a satanic grin, and I roll my eyes, prompting him to halt his mocking.

He looks at me sternly, raises his hand, and dismissively gestures for me to leave, treating me as if I were trash. I don’t move, remaining seated and crossing my arms. He looks at me and repeats the gesture.

"You are a despicable being; that's why you're alone unless by force. You should have died in that car crash. But don't worry, there won't be a next time."

I stand and leave the room, intent on exploring every corner of this house. I must escape; he won’t keep me captive, nor will he touch me again.

I go to the front area and see it’s guarded heavily; by the gate stand two silent sentinels.

There are cameras too—damn, it’s a fortress. I need to find a way to escape before he causes more harm. I continue walking, searching for a gap, but there's none.

What if I say I need to buy something? But what? The demon has already bought everything. I approach the gate, hoping he didn’t instruct the guards.

But as I reach them, they immediately signal me to stop. I huff with rage, and turning, I see him at the window, arms folded, staring down.

The very image of Satan incarnate. I leave and re-enter the house, spotting the lady I helped setting the dinner table.

Perhaps a hunger strike will do—falling ill might get me help from doctors and a chance to vanish. Or, I could feign illness, which seems an even better plan. The lady looks at me, and I return her smile.

She gestures for me to sit, but I decline.

"I'm not hungry, but thank you. Are you feeling better?"

She nods at me, and I head to my room to devise a plan for escaping the mansion.

I strip and take a shower, lingering for a while. As I finish putting on my bra, he barges into the room. I scramble for a towel to cover up, but he rushes to prevent me from grabbing it.

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