"Hey! Is that paper?" I heard a dull thud, like a slap on someone's back. "Stop eating that!"
"Heh, force of habit. You think you can sneak him into the freezer?" It sounded like Josh.
It was hot and damp, like I was lying in a sauna. The air burned my nostrils, filling my esophagus. Even my eyelids could feel the weight of the heat and moisture pressing on them.
What was even heavier was my body. It was similar to sleep paralysis; I could not will my arms to move or my eyes to open.
I need to get out of here. They're coming.
There was a dull sound of a slap on a person's back, like hitting a tom on a drum set, before someone else said, "Don't be an idiot!" It sounded like a girl.
"I'm serious. He'll make great tendies."
Come on. What time is it?
I tried to move again.
My body was like stone, completely detached from my consciousness, refusing to budge even an inch.
"And you go to jail? I can't see you in there!" she said.
"You have the backlog for this month?"
"It's in the Drive folder."
The entire next minute was the constant clacking on a laptop keyboard.
"You're not doing math today?" she said.
"No. Not today."
After a while, she asked him another question, "Do you hate him that much?"
"What's it to you?"
"Nothing. I just didn't expect you'd be willing to carry him all the way up here."
"Oh that. When he comes to, I'll ask him to jump off the building again."
"... He must've done something pretty terrible for you to hate him that much."
"Come on, just look at him."
"Can't you tell me just one thing you didn't like about him?"
The room went silent for a few seconds.
"He's just like the rest of them," he said.
"The rest of them?"
"Money-makers. Corporate tycoons with millions and billions in their account but still think they're poor. The likes of him think that the only thing you're ever good for is making as much money as you can for each passing second of your life. Contributing to society by selling cut-throat services that the average folk can't even afford."
"But don't we all go to work?"
"He wants you to get big jobs that pay well. If you're content with low wages you're a hopeless piece of trash."
"That's an interesting way of looking at things, I guess," the girl said. "All right, I'll strangle him!"
"Haha, yeah, kill him!" He laughed.
I felt tender hands gently squeezing my neck.
"I hate obnoxious rich people, too. To hell with rich people!"
"Screw them! Imagine if everybody has a mindset like him and only goes for top-of-the-ladder jobs. Nobody will lay bricks, or clean the streets, or sew clothes. We will have nothing to eat and wear. The whole system is a scam. He's one of the lucky few and he thinks everyone should be like him."
"But it would be nice if no one has to work in factories or in the fields..." Her voice trailed off.
He didn't respond.
The hands finally let go.
"Did—mister Robert ever tell you something along the lines of 'you need to study hard to get a job that pays well'?"
"Something like that."
"I don't want to say too much because I don't know him. But I'm guessing he only probably said that because he cared about you. He's worried about your future."
"He doesn't care about anyone."
I could hear rustles of shirts when the girl said in a muffled voice, "Don't you think it's unfair to be taking it out on him over something like that?"
He let out a sigh.
"... It's complicated."
"Can't you look past all of it for him, just this once, big guy?"
The room fell into silence for a brief moment.
"Not after what happened. What's it to you, huh? What do you know about him?"
There was the sound of a shove and the rustling of clothes as the girl let out a gasp.
"Josh!"
Then the typing resumed.
"Sorry," he said.
"Why are you so uptight all the time? I just want to know you better, about your family and stuff."
"You know me."
"No, I don't. It's been three years and I feel like I don't know a single thing about you. Just look at this place."
Maybe he had good reasons to hold a grudge on me. It wasn't because I'd done something terrible. He hated me because of who I was—what I represented. Whatever the case, I was thinking that he was also doing this out of principle—living here all by himself in this abandoned building; hating on me.
It wasn't like any of his efforts were going to magically turn the world into a better place.
Sure, I'd gladly be the villain, the one who had committed crimes against humanity. My death wouldn't change a thing, regardless.
Okay, okay, fine, the girl then said. There was the sound of a plastic bag being rummaged through, then of a paper box popping open. "Here, your compensation for answering all the questions." The bamboo chopsticks clicked together.
"I'm fasting." He continued to type.
"Not today, idiot! I didn't come here to hear that from you. Besides, you already broke your fast when you ate that piece of paper a minute ago. Why do you keep eating paper, anyway?"
"Occupati—Get off!"
"Come on, you're gonna keep being like that? You want me to put it in your mouth?"
"Get that thing outta my face!" he yelled. I could still hear typing.
"Here comes the airplane~."
Slowly things became quieter. I could only hear the rustling of the plastic bag.
I could finally feel my arms and legs again.
The girl then said, "Do you think we'll survive this?"
There was a long pause before he said, "I don't know. If all goes according to plan, I'll be fine—What are you even doing here? I told you to stay at home!"
"You said I could help," she said proudly. "I don't want to leave you by yourself."
I opened my eyes to find myself completely enshrouded in hot mist. The couple was sitting cross-legged on the rocky floor eleven meters away, their backs turned to me.
"I told you to get that thing out of my face!" Josh said as his hand pushed against the girl's forehead.
My heart skipped a beat. A sharp sensation, like a needle was running through it.
A spider was towering over them.