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A dark and moist high school that looms deep in the shadows. One would think this is no place for youth to grow up in, but one would simply be wrong in that hasty assessment. The dungeon academy of Fear & Hunger…
A very special high school only for the most special students across the known world.
You don’t know how you got to attend this school among hundreds of thousands of other applicants. Maybe it was by a miracle, perhaps a coin toss by the gods that decided your fate. Whatever the case was, you feel honoured and full of pride in knowing that one day you will rank among the very few who graduated from this place, and endured the fear and hunger this dungeon high is known for.
In any case, the academy’s annual harvest festival is coming up. And with the festival, is the prom, the pinnacle of each academic year, and not attending the event would deem one socially awkward for the rest of their time here. Failing to attend the prom is simply not an option. The problem is, one needs a partner for the prom. And in order to get a partner, you must face the ultimate social challenge: asking someone out. You must step up and face the potential outcome of rejection, a prospect as terrifying as looking into the empty eye sockets of death itself. But you know it must be done. You must overcome your fear.
You have five days to get a date for prom, and you’re going to need all the luck you can get!
DAY01
You let yourself be distracted throughout today’s class. A bit of a risky move, considering two students have previously been… combusted due to their behaviour during Nas’hrah’s geography class. Luckily he didn’t call on you, perhaps a perk of sitting in the back corner of class. But honestly, which is more important: recapping the names of countries and where they are, or thinking about who you could ask out to prom? Clearly the latter, of course.
Your class is certainly full of unique characters, most of which you are on friendly terms with. But there is one person who you have found yourself drawn to since the first day of the school year. The Tormented One. The tall, flayed man had caught your eye because - well, he didn’t have any skin. He certainly stood out.
You spent many classes gazing at him from behind Enki, an act which the dark priest noticed but didn’t do much to hamper, only sighing in irritation every now and then. Something about the Tormented One’s cool and silent demeanour, his strong exposed musculature, his eyes - pinpricks of light in dark sockets, and that pained poem of his you had found in the library. Something about all those traits had drawn you to him. Unfortunately, until now, you had only ever managed to nervously say hi to him every time you walked past him to get to your desk.
But today is the day that changes! Today, you are going to talk to him, actually talk to him. You have made up your mind. If you can’t go to prom with the person you like most, then screw social suicide, you simply aren’t going to go to prom! You probably aren’t even supposed to be attending this school to begin with! You aren’t going to let Fear & Hunger High get the best of you! You have five days and you need to believe in yourself.
You refocus back out of your thoughts and see that class has ended. You look around the classroom, searching for the red and fleshy object of your affections. You see Cahara sitting on a desk and chatting with Ragnvaldr, next to them the Crow Mauler is looking very agitated. D’arce is with Le’garde as usual, Nilvan is staring off into who knows where, Enki is reading a book… and the Tormented One is nowhere in sight.
In a mild panic, you jump out of your seat and almost run out of the classroom. If he had already left for his dorm room, you are screwed. You have no idea where his room is, after all. You’re not a stalker. Thankfully, the Tormented One is in the corridor, observing one of the paintings displayed on the wall.
“Thank Alll-mer,” you mutter under your breath, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Um, hi again.” you say as you approach the flayed man. His gaze flickers to you for a moment, acknowledging your presence, before going back to examining the painting. You too turn your attention to the painting.
The painting has a faded silhouette of a person shrouded in veils. The person has her neck cut open and the blood fuses with the veils in a rather beautiful manner. The Tormented One seems to dismiss the gore in the painting and is more concentrated on the form the silhouette creates. Indeed, the form is beautiful. So elegant, cold, yet raw. Almost like the Tormented One himself, perhaps a little gruesome but oh so alluring. But unlike him, the woman in the painting appears distant, her form shrouded and face obscured, yet there is a silent rage and sadness that flows out from her along with her blood, only to fuse with the very veils obscuring her, disappearing altogether near the bottom of the piece. A beautiful tragedy.
“There can be beauty in macabre concepts too…” you say, not entirely talking about the painting. Of course, this would go unnoticed to your classmate.
The Tormented One is almost nodding in agreement to your words. Almost. He still retains his posture, and the cool and collected image he exudes. You do get a glimpse that maybe there is something else too behind his fleshy exterior. Interior? Exterior.
You leave the Tormented One glued to the art piece. You step out of the school building into the cool, damp air of the outside, heart pounding against your ribs. You had done it! You had spoken to him! And properly this time! You could die happy now.
With so much adrenaline pumping through your veins, you couldn’t possibly do your homework now. You might as well use up your energy in the dungeons and get a bit of pocket money. Heck, you’d never gone there before but you might as well go to the Ancient City. You feel as though nothing can stop you today. You had spoken to your crush after all!
You venture down into the Ancient City. Tip-toeing around spiders, you stumble into a cluttered room and find strips of flesh on the floor. The thin sheets of glistening meat remind you of the Tormented One, and you can’t help but pick them up and put them away in your bag. They’re a little sticky to touch, and you imagine that’s how the Tormented One would feel like.
You run out of the dungeons with both a White Angel and a Lord of the Flies chasing after you, but you're not the least bit terrified. You’re on cloud nine.
By the time you skip into your dorm room, you’re tired from the physical exertion, but happy. Happy that you managed to talk to the Tormented One. Sure, it had been a short conversation, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Well - he hadn’t spoken at all, in fact you weren’t sure whether he could, but it definitely, totally still counted as a conversation!
You lie down on your sorry excuse of a bed, a quiet prayer to Sylvian on your lips for some luck in your love life, before your eyelids grow heavy and you fall into the dark embrace of sleep.
DAY02
You spend the class shyly glancing at the back of the Tormented One, ignoring whatever nonsense Pocketcat was spouting today.
After class, you follow the Tormented One out into the corridor, and see that he is observing a different painting today.
“Hi.” You stand next to him, and he seems to acknowledge your presence once again.
Today’s painting depicts the moody and misty scenery of the outskirts of a small village. Upon closer inspection, you start noticing different things that are off in the picture. You notice ominous shadows in the windows, how crooked some of the trees truly are, and when looking at the picture from a little distance, you notice the painting forms the shape of a vile face. But… to what end?
The Tormented One is investigating all the little details within the piece. Personally, you think the painting lacks elegance, simply using technically horror-like imagery to make even more of the same thing. You think it lacks subtlety, especially with that over-the-top vile face, and that it is trying too hard to be scary without delivering. Unlike yesterday’s painting of the veiled woman, you can’t feel any deeper emotion from this one. You really aren’t a fan of this piece.
You decide to voice your opinion, trusting that the Tormented One, as an artist, will respect it.
“Talk about forced edginess.” you comment.
The Tormented Once gives you a look, questioning. You elaborate, and he seems to shrug his shoulders a bit in response. He is not agreeing with you, but he is agreeing to disagree. There are no right or wrong opinions when it comes to art, and you are glad that he was open to discussion. You are glad that he is the kind of person who is willing to hear out opinions he doesn’t necessarily agree with. You are glad he met your expectations in this way.
You leave him with the painting, and a part of you hopes that he appreciates your different views, that you won’t have to force yourself to pretend to agree with him.
You pet Moonless on your way back to your room, and hum happily to yourself while you do your homework.
DAY03
After class, you follow the Tormented One out of the classroom once again. He seems to notice that you have been doing this but doesn’t particularly seem to mind. From all the hours you have spent admiring him from afar, you have become quite decent at reading his expressions, as subtle as they are. You know what he looks like when he is irritated, an ever so slight narrowing of his eyes and crease of his brow. So far, he hasn’t made that expression around you, so you take that as a good sign.
The painting the Tormented One stands in front of today is very dark, you can barely make out anything in it. Upon closer inspection, you notice an old crooked lady harvesting hay with a sickle. The crooked lady seems to have three arms, with an extra arm extending from her back. You are not sure, but it almost seems like the old lady has got a grin on her face.
Skin Granny???
“I think I know who this painting depicts.” You have only ever seen that too-wide, stretched, soulless grin once before. A shiver runs up your spine at the memory. You also wonder who in the world painted her.
The Tormented One raises his eyebrow when you mention this. He is clearly curious, but something seems to stop him from pursuing the conversation. He suddenly seems almost sullen for a second before returning to his cool and indifferent self. He looks back to the painting.
Unsure of whether you upset him somehow, you return to your decrepit dorm room to do your homework. You are distracted though, running the interaction over and over again in your head, trying to figure out what went wrong, if anything. You spend the rest of the day staring at the ceiling, thinking.
DAY04
The Tormented One had looked… tormented throughout the day. More tormented than usual, that is. The class ends and you watch him almost stumble out of the classroom. You hesitate to follow him. You don’t know if your presence will make things worse. Your concern for him outweighs your fear of his rejection though, and you rush after him.
You find him slumped against the wall. Starving artist that he is, he normally looks undernourished in a strange way despite his clearly strong physique. But right now he seems light-headed and weak. You are worried about him. He is desperately in need of something extra around his very holdable-looking waist. You would go buy him food, as much as he needed, maybe some salami and bread, but considering his lack of a mouth, you know that won’t do.
Then you remember the flesh strips you had picked up. This might just work.
“Um, excuse me for a moment.” You take the strips out of your bag and wrap them around his waist. They seem to be absorbed somehow, becoming a part of him. The Tormented One immediately looks well-fed and bulkier. Fascinating.
His muscles actually look more well-defined than before. You spend a moment marvelling at his fleshy body and those strong, strong muscles… No. You are getting distracted.
You look up at his face, and the Tormented One seems thankful. There is a softness to his eyes, and you feel a warmth blossom in your chest.
“Are you alright now?” you ask, hoping that the effects of the flesh strips weren’t just for show.
The eyes of the Tormented One narrow, crinkling at the edges. Oh. A blush creeps up your face as you realise that he is smiling at you, or smiling as best he can with only his eyes. He appears to have overcome whatever conflict had assailed him yesterday.
“The name is Ronn Chambara, you can call me that.” he signs. You find yourself smiling like a fool. This was the first time he’d spoken to you.
He also signs something else, “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”
You almost pass out on the spot. Gods, this better not be some weird hallucination.
“Yes, let’s go!” You clasp your hands together, unsure of what to do with them. You are beaming, unable to contain your joy. “W-where should we go? Oh! How about the Bloodpits?”
One doesn’t simply get to see that much viscera in one place!
Chambara also seems to be especially excited about this place!
You have a fun time playing hide and seek with him. You both end up covered in blood and gore by the end of it along with all the other players, but you don’t mind that at all!
After the date, Chambara is looking really happy! It seems like he really enjoyed his time with you. And you are overjoyed that you got to spend so much time with him, and see him more relaxed.
You walk him to the dorm building, say good night to him, then jump into your horrible wooden bed, probably bruising your hip in the process. But you don’t care. You feel giddy and you can’t wait for the prom tomorrow. Surely he’ll say yes to being your date for prom, right? You remember the way he had smiled, and scream into your anemic pillow, feet kicking in the air.
You’re so excited for tomorrow that you don’t know how you ended up falling asleep.
DAY05
Today is the day. The day when you must ask someone to go to the prom with you.
Chambara is standing by his desk, and he seems nervous when you approach him. You are strangely calm, confident even. You genuinely hope you haven’t been misreading him, and that he feels even a fraction of what you feel for him.
His dark eyes are on you, and you take in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“Would you like to be my date for the prom?” you ask.
“!!”
Instead of replying, Chambara shows you his poem booklet. There is a poem written about the two of you.
He has a very intense look on his face, as if he is waiting for your reaction. Your face goes completely red at the contents of the poem. The lyrics are very… descriptive and visceral. You feel positively overwhelmed by his affection that seems to overflow from the words, and you are deeply touched. You are speechless. You look up into his eyes, trying to convey your own feelings to him. Apparently he can read you as well as you can read him. He looks simultaneously relieved and ecstatic.
Relieved?
Then you realise something that you hadn’t considered. Or perhaps he hadn’t considered. You liked Chambara, a lot. You had been drawn to his cool and calm exterior - flesh, so interior? - but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to learn more about him. You watched him because of that initial attraction, but you stayed because you liked the open-minded, artistic, and surprisingly expressive person that he was. You wanted to keep learning more about him, to get to know him more. But you realise now, that he may have felt pressured by the image that he exuded, and the pressure had prevented him from realising your intent until you had helped him in his moment of vulnerability yesterday. He had only realised then that you weren’t going to stop talking to him because he hadn’t lived up to whatever idealised image of him you had in your head.
It seemed that he had still been a little hesitant about the idea, but your response to his poem had cleared up some of the doubt. Maybe not all the doubt, but that was okay. Your affection towards Chambara wouldn’t be disappearing any time soon. You look forward to seeing him open up more, so that you could cherish more of him. You are sure that your feelings for him would only grow more.
But, back to the topic of prom, it is safe to say that he will indeed be your date for the evening!
You’d managed to do it! You managed to get a date for the prom, and the experience has given you a great deal more confidence! You feel like you can tackle whatever awaits you in the dark corners of the world. And hopefully, when you do, you’ll have a certain poet by your side.
HAPPY ENDING