Amanda lay motionless in bed, staring through her eyelids at the white ceiling. An ant scurried across, though how it managed to enter through the closed windows eluded her. On the other side of the room, John lay in the other twin bed, snoring loudly. A few weeks ago, she would have stifled a laugh. John had many eccentricities, but his snoring had to be the funniest. He sounded half gagged, and half choking some of the time. The air that came from his mouth was rancid, and strong enough to push a small object out of his path. His stomach sometimes rumbled when he snored, as though dictating that he eat even though unconscious. He did not resemble Mike in the slightest.

It was night, Amanda knew. It was too dark to be morning, even twilight. Yet she had been laying there for hours, and the urge to sleep was becoming harder and harder to resist. She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them again, as an effort to keep herself awake.

John had said the first test would be within a few days, involving a male photographer and a doctor he saw semi regularly for checkups. Neither appreciated life enough to spare themselves a trip to John's torture chamber, as Amanda privately called it, but John hadn't given many details aside from that.

His treatment towards her hadn't changed dramatically during the past few weeks. If Amanda had expected to find herself a test subject, a live dummy to test out John's traps, she had been gravely mistaken. He still made it clear that he cared about her. They still shared happy moments, like when they had been to the park and later bought ice cream. Now, however, Amanda could no longer pretend that the man who had put her in the reverse bear trap and caused her to kill her former drug dealer was not a past version of John. That John was actually a very nice person, and perhaps felt bad about the way he treated people like Amanda, and had resolved to stop when he saw her half dead on her bedroom floor.

No, that part of John was still very much alive. He'd keep Amanda alive because he needed someone to carry on his work, and treat her decently to keep her from running away, but when it came down to it, he was a very evil man on a quest to purge the world of apathetic people.

The problem with John's logic, Amanda figured out all too soon, was that if he were being judged by his own criteria, he'd be the first to die. John was far too critical of others, ready to judge them by horrible means, to enjoy what remained of his life. He would die within a few years—how long he had he never told Amanda—and instead of spending that time enjoying what he had left, he had considered himself a teacher and some kind of prophet sent to spread this knowledge to the rest of the world.

The message itself was not something Amanda objected to. The application of the message, however, was much more difficult, and she could see how someone with family problems or drug problems might not be able to see value in their life. They were too distracted by what John called "the obscure details" to understand the "whole".

Still, Amanda didn't have the heart to object verbally to John's tests, and she knew that in doing so she was promoting it, encouraging it. She should have packed her things and left as soon as John told her he wanted her to be his assistant, but instead Amanda had thought of her own life and her own comfort. She knew that John wouldn't kill her for leaving him, but after experiencing that type of platonic…no, paternal, because what she felt for John was nothing like what she felt for Mike, even after years of not seeing him…love in her life after missing it for so long, Amanda hadn't wanted to leave him. Now she knew that regardless of how much of their daily routine stayed the same, everything was different because she was actively working towards evil.

Amanda shut her eyes again, this time resolving to sleep. She'd have to get up in a few hours and help John set up the bathroom trap, and she couldn't pass through the day unnoticed if she were a sleepless zombie.

She hugged Brownie tightly as she rolled over on her side.

She lay like that for hours, sleep failing to come, but Amanda refused to open her eyes. She felt John's calloused hand on her neck, but didn't move, feigning sleep.

John laughed, not unkindly. "Amanda, I know you're awake."

Then there was no use in pretending. She sighed, turned over, and opened her eyes. They hurt from the effort of keeping them closed for what must have been hours, and she grimaced. John's face appeared slightly blurry as she let go of Brownie to rub them thoroughly, but it sharpened as the pain gradually eased.

"How'd you know?"

"You're never that motionless when you're really sleeping." John put a hand through her now short hair.

She had cut it days after agreeing to work for him, almost as an act of rebelling. She knew he loved brushing her long hair, and this was a way to keep him at bay. If he couldn't give up his sick murdering projects and demanded that she take part in them, well at least Amanda could distance herself emotionally. She'd act the same, but keep herself closed to him. Maybe she'd even become flawless at his traps, only to reveal to him at the point of his death that she would never carry on his work.

"Mmph," Amanda replied noncommittally, sitting up in bed. She felt something against her back, and gingerly removed Brownie.

John sat down next to her, smiling. "You're going to hurt her if you're not careful," he scolded.

"She's not alive."

"But you are."

Amanda suppressed a shudder. It was those comments that she hated the most. Who would defend a non living, inanimate object as a way of making a point?

He was crazy.

Amanda gave a noncommittal grunt and began to smooth the mussed fur of the cat, ignoring John's eyes on her.

After a few minutes of this, John spoke. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Another pause. Then, "It's your birthday in two days."

"I know," Amanda replied.

"I'll be out today for awhile."

Amanda nodded and then looked up. "What do you need me to do about the test?" she asked pointedly.

John hesitated before replying. "I'll need you to keep testing the chains. Also the saws. I don't want them to be able to cut through the metal."

Amanda groaned. "I did that yesterday. They're fine."

John looked as though he might object, but then nodded. "All right. Then work on making the bathroom a mess. It still looks like a room in a house."

Well, it almost is, Amanda wanted to retort. The bathroom was located in their basement, near the room John used to test out his traps. He said it had been unused for years, so when they first started working on it, it smelled musty but not ominous. It was Amanda's job to make it look ominous, as though it were the hideout of drug dealers. She didn't see why they couldn't use the room of a previous victim, but John had been adamant about each test subject getting their own room.

She nodded. "I'll get to it," she promised.

John smiled and left the room without even saying goodbye. Amanda burned with resentment. She remained in bed until she could hear the front door close and the car start running. Then she pulled the covers over her head and went back to sleep.

Without John in the room, sleep came naturally.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Work's been pretty crazy. Please review...I need five before I can start the next chapter.