𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

The severed, stitched big pale hand, Thing, quickly tries to scuttle under the black sheets.

But Saturday, with his lightning quick reflexes, grabs the large decapitated hand before it escapes off the bed frame, the frame rattling with pressure.

He grabs the hand between his long white fingers, holding it up.

"Did you think my highly trained olfactory sense wouldn't pick up on the faint whiff of neroli and bergamot in your favourite hand lotion?" he interrogates the hand as it struggles in his grasp, with his crisp white sleeves unbuttoned, revealing his muscular forearms.

The hand trembles in his strong grip.

"I could do this all day." he whisper-threats.

He slams the trembling hand onto his brown wooden desk.

"Surrender?" he asks coldly.

Thing taps the wooden desk frantically.

Saturday lets it go as it stands up, propped by its long fingers.

He adjusts his light so that the golden glow hits the hand perfectly.

"If you're here, that could only mean one thing. She's here to stay isn't she? Kochō's been ordered by my Father and Mother to attend this teenage purgatory so she can easily spy on me for them. Just like you."

Thing shakes a long forefinger at the pale boy.

"I'm not above breaking a few fingers." he threatens the hand.

Thing stiffens on the writing desk.

"The fact that they thought I wouldn't find out just proves how much they underestimate me."

The severed, stitched hand lays on the desk, thinking, then starts to manoeuvre in all different directions.

"Oh, Thing, you poor, naive appendage." says Saturday with pity, shaking his head slightly.

"My parents aren't worried about me. They're evil puppeteers who want to pull my strings even from afar."

Thing is propped up again.

"The way I see it, you have two options. Option one."

He swiftly reaches over and grips the hand with superhuman strength. He then opens his desk drawer. It was filled with only two black, menacing scissors.

"I lock you in here for the rest of the semester, and you go slowly insane trying to claw your way out,"

Thing scratches the desk, his finger nails making marks in his attempt to free himself from Saturday's superhuman grip. It doesn't work as Saturday forces him into his drawer.

"ruining your nails and your smooth, supple skin. And we both know how vain you are. Option two."

He abruptly lifts Thing from his drawer and places him back on his desk.

"You pledge your undying loyalty to me."

♪ ...que no se apartan de mí... ♪

Thing reluctantly kneels on his four long fingers.

"Our first order of business is to escape this teenage purgatory."

Thing points his long forefinger at the pale boy and taps frantically on the desk.

"Of course I have a plan." Saturday says with satisfaction, tilting his deliciously smooth lips upwards. "And it begins now."

☟☟☟

The next morning, a car drove down the black highway into Jericho, Home of the Pilgrim World.