The diorama was the first thing he made to decorate his cell when the government rolled the metaphorical boulder in front of the exit. He lovingly sculpted the buildings, docks, and radio tower all the way down to the most minute detail. If he had some grasp on proper anatomy he would even add some figurines to liven up the plastic hills and pools of water. One of his shortcomings as an architect, ironically.
Not that he's ever going to need this illusion of home to keep his final vestiges of sanity anymore.
He admits, watching The Song get sliced in half was the most satisfying death he's been forced to watch. She took everything from him, but at least he'll get the one up on her by getting out of this hellhole with his life. For however long that will last.
The Stranger. God, how he wishes he didn't need to have set the creature free just so he can hold her again. His daughter, a bright hope for humanity's future after the reckoning. And he willingly doomed it for the chance to hear her call out to him again.
He's bouncing the hologram of the next cell, or arena as its respective occupant would call it, on his finger like a toy. It's fair, considering how the next jailer thinks of all this tragedy as nothing more than a game.
The pedestals lining his cell showcases every part of his magnificent prison. Live video feed of everyone he sacrificed thus far and will continue to. There isn't one to show his cell, for obvious reasons. But he does have a wristband that lights up and beep whenever someone will come through the teleporter to enter his domain. Just like it does now.
For the Stranger, it's been a mere few seconds since he exited The Song's cell, but for him it was minutes. Long enough for the guilt and anger to build up inside him, threatening to tear him apart limb by limb if he doesn't get it out.
He flicks the hologram away with a growl and slams the microphone stand to the ground. The burn of releasing the energy he's been forced to keep inside him is refreshing and somewhat clears his head. But it exhausts him too.
He plays it off to the Stranger as the result of a fight. A half-truth. He doesn't care whether the thing believes him or not. In fact, he's so tired from all he must bear that he slips out a few hints to his real person and his actual reasons for setting the Stranger free.
He wants to cool himself off, so he tells the Stranger to go ahead and that he'll catch up. But instead of passing through the exit portal he's been able to hack, the creature turns on its heels and stalks towards him.
Fuck! He screwed up. He knows that there's a constant risk of not getting out alive, but it's been going so well thus far that he'd let his guard down.
His pride doesn't let him whimper or cower though as the Stranger practically presses itself against him. He leans back far enough to keep their skin from touching but that's all.
The Stranger cocks its head to one side, inquisitive, then to another.
'Like an animal,' he thinks.
The Stranger reaches out, gently pinching the protruding teeth of his mask. He sucks in a breath as he feels the Stranger slowly lifting it up.
If it looks into his eyes, it'll know everything.
He panics and grabs the Stranger's hand, making it jump in shock, and stopping the mask from being lifted any higher than his nose-bridge.
Its hand is freezing, yet neither of them lets go of the other. The Stranger is perturbed and clearly frightened. He doesn't understand why though, the creature's been grabbed, dragged, and thrown several times during all the fighting. He remains wary. A scared beast is still a dangerous one.
He feels like prey and he wants to laugh; a rabbit caught in the eyes of a wolf.
The Stranger starts to lean in, pausing now and then to look at him, like it's asking for permission. He doesn't give it any sign of yes or no, so it continues its intrusion of his personal space carefully.
It stops when its close enough for him to feel it exhale, irregularly, inhumanly.
He thinks it's going to kiss him, maybe to pull a cheap horror movie stunt and suck out his life force.
It slightly presses the tip of its nose against his. Some soft sound reverberating from its throat, low and hungry. It turns its head to press their cheeks together and he feels the Stranger flutter its eyes, brushing its lashes against his skin.
He's right and wrong; it was a kiss but not from a monster.
"Why?" He begs as the Stranger finally backs off, letting his mask slide back into place. He ignores the way he almost chases after the Stranger as it walks back to the exit.
It looks back at him.
"I love you." The Stranger says.
The man waits for his response. He's so confused. His last, desperate hope for home is killing him in so many ways. He just nods in acknowledgment.
The Stranger bows his head, hopefully not to hide disappointment, before stepping through the gate.
He doesn't want to care about him, but he can't stand lying to himself.