Page 66 of Daemonium

"Attached to the ceiling are four solid chains. Four volunteers must participate—hands-on. Pick your four and have them get ready, but among those four must be one main player. Move quick, you have..." The voice paused, letting the tension build, "...five minutes."

The speaker went dead, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. I looked up, dread pooling in my stomach as the altered fan overhead began to spin slowly, its blades whirring to life. The chains hanging from the ceiling clinked together with the movement.

Ciaran’s voice sliced through the room, cold and unyielding. “We don’t have time to wait. We need to choose. Now.”

Panic fluttered in my chest, but I forced myself to breathe, to focus.

“We need to pick four people, but…what does she mean by main player?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“One of us,” Ciaran answered, his eyes locked onto Lana. She hadn’t said a word since entering the room.

Brody was the first to step forward, his jaw set in grim determination. “I’ll do it,” he said, not waiting for anyone to respond. He moved toward the chains, his steps steady and sure. Jessica followed without a word. Something was unsettling about how quickly she stepped up, but I couldn’t help but respect her for it.

As the clock ticked down, the air grew thick with tension. No one else moved, fear and uncertainty freezing them in place. Ciaran lacked the patience to care about their feelings, and I agreed with the sentiment.

He seized a man by the back of the neck, dragging him over to the third chain. The man’s eyes were wide with terror, but Ciaran’s grip was unyielding.

“We need a fourth,” Ciaran ground out, his eyes scanning the room.

“Use Juno,” Ky said suddenly. His eyes were focused and cold, giving no room for argument.

Ciaran’s brother nodded and moved swiftly toward a girl with dark hair. She looked shocked, but she didn’t resist as he led her to the final chain. Meanwhile, Ky held me close, his hand gently stroking my hair in a soothing motion. As I looked up at him, all I could see was the blood soaking through his black shirt, spreading like a dark, ominous stain. His face was composed, but the sight of him like this made my heart clench painfully.

“This is nothing, Sunshine,” he said quietly, trying to reassure me.

I could see the strain in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw as he forced a smile.

“No,” I choked out, shaking my head. “You’re hurt, Ky. I can clearly see it.”

He kept stroking my hair, his touch both comforting and heartbreaking. “I’m fine,” he insisted, though I could hear the lie in his words.

Lana moved toward Brody with a shuttered look in her eyes, her hands trembling as she reached for what I had initially thought were shackles but now saw were collars—cold, metal, and soon to be deadly. The realization made my stomach twist further into knots.

“Don’t plan on dying with this on,” Lana murmured, forcing a brittle smile as she locked the collar around Brody’s neck.

Brody gave her a sad, resigned smile, his eyes heavy with the weight of the situation. “That’s why I have you guys.”

The others were less cooperative. One man thrashed wildly, panic overtaking him. Ciaran punched him square in the face. The sickening crack echoed, blood spurting from his nose. The man slumped enough for Charon to move over and clamp the collar around his neck. There was a moment of silence, a brief, suffocating pause before the screen flickered to life. A new timer appeared—ten minutes.

A single, ominous question was scrawled across the screen:

"Who is the...?"

The words seemed to echo in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull as the chains connected to the collars straightened, lifting the four off the ground just enough that their toes barely scraped the floor.

“We need sixteen letters,” Dion said, his voice urgent, his mind already working to solve the riddle.

He looked like he was barely holding it together, eyes darting between the screen and those hanging by chains.

“We have four chances to get it right,” Ky added, his voice a steadying force.

I could feel the tremor in him, the strain he tried so hard to hide, and held him tighter. No one wanted to speak, the fear of being the one to make a fatal mistake pressing down on us all like a vise.

“A,” Ciaran finally said, his voice cold and detached, cutting through the silence.

The letter spun onto the screen, and we all exhaled—a small victory.

“B,” Lana called out, her voice cracking as the letter appeared, the first in the final word. The chains tightened, pulling the four higher, their bodies straining to keep from dangling.

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