bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter nineteen.

Case resumed filling the empty time with mundane activities. He carved the second tally-mark into the wall. He paced circles, talking nonsense to Gary the Rat. He read the labels on the new toiletries, memorizing the differences between invigorating citrus-mango and calming lavender. He unfurled the yoga mat, cycling through reps of crunches and knee-tucks and burpees and push-ups. Hell, he didn't need a mirror to recognize he was low on muscle mass as well as body fat. Arms and upper body strength was a definite area he needed to work on. He used the support rail on the underside of the stairs for pull ups; so far he could only lift himself forehead-high.

Good thing you've got all the time in the world to improve, mocked the voice.

Tremors ran through Case's straining muscles as he fought to lift his bodyweight. Exertion ripped through him as a scream-like grunt.

"What are you doing?" Sir's perplexed voice traveled down the stairs.

Realizing he was no longer alone, Case dropped to his feet. "Exercising," he panted. He paced in a circle, sweat beading in his hairline and his lungs on fire, as Sir came into view. Two visits in one day—how lucky. And just when Case thought he'd gotten the night off, too.

Surprisingly, Sir brought with him another plastic tub. No way, Case thought, awed yet catching his breath. "Please tell me you've got a deck of Uno cards in there."

"No, but that would'a been a good suggestion."

"Yeah, well, I'm not always good under pressure, am I?"

Sir chuckled. He bypassed Case, taking the new tub over to the bed.

Case's intrigue faltered, tumbling into apprehension. What if Sir had brought a weird sex game for them to play, like Naked Twister or Sexy Truth or Dare? Swallowing his nerves, Case dragged his feet to join Sir by the bed, his heartbeat pounding but not from exertion.

"Now, I know you're part of that iGen or Generation Z whatever, and some things may seem foreign to you. But please tell me you know what this is." Sir reached into the tub then pulled out a long and bulky handheld vacuum.

The nerves left Case's body as a fluttery sigh. "Uhh, yeah. I also know about dial-up and rotary phones, by the way."

"Do you know how to use it?" Sir's finger curled around the one switch, like curling around the trigger of a gun, and squeezed. The engine whirred to life, the tiny vent shooting out warm air that had the nostalgic, musty smell of radiator heaters during the winter.

"Seems pretty straightforward." Case stopped at Sir's side, peering into the tub at the rest of the items. Spray nozzle bottles, rubber gloves, baking soda, a new toilet brush and caddy, plus rough sponges. Definitely straightforward.

The engine fell silent, and Sir handed the Easy-Vac to Case. Sir then explained to him there was going to be an addition to their routine: at the start of each month, when Sir brought in his new supplies, they would also clean the basement. The plumbing fixtures would all be scrubbed clean. The single pillow would be swapped for a clean one, and taken upstairs into the laundry. And the mattress would be flipped and cleaned (to the best of Case's ability).

"Why can't I just have a bedsheet?" Case asked. "Like, wouldn't it be easier to change the bedding than do all this."

"Ahh," Sir replied sagely. "Yes, but a sheet could also double as a noose."

Case nodded slowly, allowing himself a pause to think. "What about a duvet or a comforter? Wouldn't they be too thick to tie properly?"

The smile was still on Sir's lips but the energy behind it dimmed, as if a sinister presence had lifted its veil.