Twisted Attraction
If he was going to get out of here, he needed to know every inch of this godforsaken place.
He didn’t have beautiful memories outside this place. He was always hungry, yet he also couldn’t stomach what they were doing there. They were killing each other because FATHER ordered it. They were like puppets that shouldn’t have their own awareness.
When he was alone or with Raja and everyone else was asleep, Tales would sketch maps, though calling them “maps” was generous. They were chaotic, messy doodles of squares and lines, barely resembling the compound. But they made sense to him. And he was proud of them, as if they were the best drawings and deserved a Nobel Prize. He hid them under the sin
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