Page 133 of Fake Game

There looks to be something human shaped curled in the corner.

“Well, this is probably a bad idea.”

I walk into the room only to have the door lock automatically behind me. Yeah. Shoulda seen that coming. Some weird chanting noise starts up, and the closer I get to the burnt body, the louder it gets.

“What’s it saying?”

I try clicking on the body, but nothing happens. Its charred face keeps following me around the room. I strain my ears to make out what it is saying while not letting it out of my sight.

“Live. Live. Live. Live.”

“Well, guess that’s a good thing, right?”

My eyes flick to the chat, only to see that everyone else seems to think I am in a deep load of shit. I click around the old bathroom, trying to see if there’s anything else in here, but come up empty.

“Can I leave?” I walk up to the door and try clicking on it.

The door swings open.

A scream leaves my body.

And a giant blob-shaped fleshysomethingattacks and kills me.

My screen goes fuzzy with the words SIGNAL LOST splayed across it.

“Great. What even was that?”

My stomach rumbles, and I reach for my phone to check the time, only to remember I left it in the other room since I’m filming and didn’t want another repeat of Jackson distracting me with his dirty texts.

I’ve been streaming for a solid two hours this afternoon, which is pretty damn impressive considering that last week I barely managed an hour before my anxiety began to spike and I quit. Maybe I should just call it while things are still going well. My fans are happy just to see my spontaneous streams; I doubt they’ll be annoyed that it’s on the shorter side again today.

The spontaneous streaming is Aleks’ idea. He figured if I don’t outright announce when I’m going live, there is less of a chance any of the Deer Hunters could preplan something. So far, it seems to be working. Rick hasn’t flagged any suspicious behavior recently, and the streaming has helped curb the rumors around my mysterious hospitalization.

“Okay, fawns. I’m logging off for the day, but thank you for tuning in.” I curve my hands into a heart shape and smile. “Thanks for all your love and support, bye!”

I turn off the stream and remove my headset before I begin the process of shutting down my PC. I push back on my chair and stand up to stretch.

Ugh, my shoulders are all tight because of how tense I was playing that game. I’d seen Jackson playHaunted Huntingsa few weeks ago and thought I’d try it out for myself. Fuck, the jump scares are on another level—but that’s a good thing because my brain gets so focused on surviving the game that I’m not able to think about surviving real life. It’s better to feel scared over some mysterious creature popping out in a gamethan to sit in the corner of my room and panic that a person will stalk out of the shadows to murder me.

I hold onto my trap muscle, massaging it as I pad into my kitchen. My fridge is dismally empty minus the most recent batch of Oreo brookies Jackson made me the other day. I take out the container and carry it to my couch, flopping down and opening it to remove one of the brownie-cookies.

Damn, that man can bake.

I devour it with no shame, happily grabbing a second one…and then a third…and then the fourth and final one. Part of me suspects he puts some kind of hex on these things. They are devilishly addictive.

A loud banging reverberates through my apartment. The Tupperware container clatters to the ground as I jerk up, my heart rate catapulting to new highs. I can’t even get my legs to function properly as I tumble off my couch and crawl on all fours across my living room, hands slapping on the floorboards with every move.

Where’s my handbag?

I spot the heart-shaped purse on my kitchen counter and reach a hand up, hooking the nail of my pinky finger around the handle and tugging. It topples to the floor, contents spilling out—but that’s fine because it makes it easier to spot what I was looking for.

Gripping the item in my hand, I continue with a slow crawl to the door. My free hand splays against the wood, and I use it to help me stand on shaky legs.

My eyes catch on the doorbell camera Parker installed, and I still. Cold embarrassment washes over me.

Gods dammit.

I should’ve checked the camera first before going all panic mode.

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