Page 7 of Daemonium

My Sunshine, so sweet and trusting.

As her delicate fingers latched onto my shirt, a twisted satisfaction surged through me. She was placing her faith in a monster and I fucking reveled in it. It was as intoxicating as her very presence.

There was nothing in this entire fucking city she had to fear. I needed her to know—to remember—that I would protect her with every fiber of my being. Not out of any noble sentiment, but because she belonged to me just as much as I belonged to her.

It was primal. Instinctual.

I had already made the grave mistake of allowing her to be taken from me once. It would never happen again.

Leaving the syringe behind was a calculated move, a message to 'them.' Whoever they thought they were dealing with, whatever power they thought they had over us, I was determined to show them just how wrong and delusional they were. Their days of playing God were numbered, and I would make sure they begged for death soon enough.

Without a word exchanged, Grace and I made our way out the door. Her presence a constant weight on my mind, reminding me of what I stood to lose.

"What's happening? Have we been discovered?" She shouted over the blaring siren, looking up at me questioningly.

“A final commencement.” I reached out and thumbed a strand of her silky hair. It cascaded over her shoulders in messy waves, a blend of sunlit blonde and golden hues that framed her pretty face perfectly.

Her furrowed brow. "What does that mean?"

It was a ruthless culling of the weak and a fierce initiation into an eagerly anticipated bloodbath. In other words, my kind of fun. But she had no need to concern herself with such details. Liliana and Mel’s approach was perfectly timed, their sharp eyes assessing the proximity between myself and their friend. They were one of the few variables in Sunshine's orbit that I allowed to exist. If either of them was to be taken away, Gracelynn would lose some of her light.

It helped that both women had more than heads full of air; intelligent and cunning, valuable allies in this game of manipulation and power. With them near I could temporarily move away. I dropped my hand and smoothed my palm down Sunshine’s back, needing the connection before I stepped aside.

The moment I was out of the way their heads came together like a huddle of warriors. A twinge of gratitude coursed through me, knowing that their bond was as strong as the one I shared with my brothers—who had their own connections with them. I’d silently vowed to protect both women with the same ferocity I would my sister, had she ever needed it. Of course, such situations never arose.

After being duped into her time on the show, Kennedy's legendary status within the Devil's Playground had rapidly grown. We often compared our body counts with old-fashioned sibling rivalry, realizing that her numbers almost matched mine. I couldn't be prouder, knowing that she was just as ruthless and deadly as any man that thought to fuck with her and could hold her own just as well—if not better.

My attention shifted to the task at hand.

The others were already in motion, their movements efficient and purposeful. We had minutes to make everything burn. I wordlessly joined in and together, we moved through the expanse of the warehouse, gathering perishables and discarded clothes. All the items that we couldn’t carry with us and refused to leave for anyone else. Everything was piled into the makeshift receptacle. Once it was ready, my brother wheeled the barrel over to where the dismantled Mustang loomed.

It was almost a shame to make such a machine go up in flames. It reminded me of my own, only lacking the memories. Ciaran dropped a duffel bag filled with our masks at our feet, each one a symbol of our anonymity and solidarity. With his blue eyes meeting ours in turn, he asked the question that had only one correct answer: "Everyone ready?"

"You know I was born ready," Maverick replied with a wild grin, quickly donning his black and green mask.

Following suit, my brother rolled his shoulders. I could see the fire burning in his eyes. “Let's give them a performance they'll never forget."

When their gazes shifted to Dion, his expression was stoic and determined. "I'm with you," he stated firmly, betraying none of the nerves he must have been feeling. His commitment, despite being thrown into this maelstrom of madness, earned him respect from each of us. Hope he felt the same when he realized I had turned his girlfriend into a fleshless centerpiece. It wasn’t personal, she simply didn’t meet the qualifications to be one of us.

Then there was Brody. We didn't need to ask him; we knew his stance. His answer was always the same as mine, unspoken but understood.

With our intentions set and our roles reaffirmed, each mask was donned with a practiced hand, our alter egos in this immersive game. Ciaran's hand extended towards Dion, offering a mask unlike any of the others --matte black with orange accents. Without a word, Dion accepted and slid it over his face. My own mask was a stark depiction of my soul - white and black, with an inverted cross at its center - a reminder of my past and how far I had come from the person I used to be, often wondering why my mind didn’t work like any others. I embraced that difference now largely because of this.

Slipping it on, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. What would life be like without it? I quickly dismissed the thought. This mask was a part of me. I would never part with it. I was certain that even when this season was over, it wouldn’t be the end. The Game, this show, would still go on.

“I’ll light everything up, you guys’ head for the exit,” Brody stated, already walking toward the barrel and Mustang.

I went straight to where the girls were standing. We’d had their full attention the moment Ciaran opened the duffel bag.

"Time to go, Sunshine," I said, my voice low but firm. She needed to be away from the flames, away from the smoke and the heat. Her safety was paramount, always.

Ciaran moved past me and positioned himself in front of Liliana. “Don't do anything reckless out there, Puppet,” he cautioned tauntingly.

She rolled her eyes and pushed his hand away from her face. “I'm already being reckless by sticking with you.”

“Some may say that is the wisest decision you’ve ever made.” He patted the top of her head and turned away, oblivious to the annoyed look she shot at him.

Dion moved closer, falling into the role he’d been assigned in the past few minutes. It wouldn’t be a hardship for him to stick with the women. He’d been surprisingly quick in endearing himself to them. I knew he had remembered too.

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