Chapter 2: Paranoia
I opened my eyes.
Same chair.
Same ropes.
Same me. Probably.
But the pigs were gone.
The violin. Gone.
The stage? Still here. Kind of. But wrong. Off. Like it had been deflated and stretched back over something else entirely. It was too quiet. Not silent. Just… expectant.
I swallowed.
Still dry.
My tongue felt like a used eraser.
I flexed my fingers.
Nothing.
Tried to shift my legs.
Still bound. Still stuck. Still here. Whatever here was now.
The stoplight above me had vanished. Or burned out. Or been eaten by the ceiling. Which also wasn't there anymore. Just black void. No stars. No end.
I craned my neck.
No audience.
No orchestra pit.
No piglet in a wedding gown.
Just me and the stage.
I started to panic.
Which felt like a memory more than a reaction.
Because of course I did. Wouldn't you?
I pulled. Tugged. Rocked. Bit at the ropes with my teeth. Twisted my wrists until they felt like they might snap. The ropes groaned. But they held.
