Page 12 of The Game

“Do not move, promise me?”

“Wh-what is this?” I say, suddenly fearful, tugging against the cuffs.

“Just trust me, bunny. I know what I’m doing.”

His eyes linger on mine for a beat more before he vanishes into the fog created by the machine. On the verge of hyperventilating, my eyes swish around the empty, suddenly silent space. Before a panic attack has the chance to settle in, a lone spotlight flickers to life, positioned directly in front of me. Standing tall and proud in the beam is Teddy, black, shiny top hat reflecting the light, the edges frayed. He stands facing the crowd, chin tilted down, hiding his face, his slim waist opening to wider shoulders, his coattails trimmed to perfection.

The crowd begins to whisper as slow, intense music builds.

Another light flares to life, centered on a low, wooden table, and the sight of a dozen knives glinting up at me has my eyes widening to saucers and my stomach dropping out of my ass.

This fucker…

Without speaking, he shifts, claps his hands twice, and the lights now beam down on me, pinned to a circular board, blinding me. He turns, eyes locked on mine as he saunters over, reaching up to grip a hook jutting out from the wood above my left shoulder. I know what comes next; I’ve seen this act before, but never did I think I’d be the fucking target.

“Don’t move, Alice,” he says again, even more seriously than before. Stomach heaving, I spit a retort before I can stop myself.

“You-you asshole.”

He chuckles, laugh lines surrounding his lips.

“I’ve never missed, if that makes you feel better.”

Instead of a response, I can only muster a whimper and a pleading look with my eyes. He laughs again, this time good natured, gentle.

“Relax. Trust me. I promise I’d never hurt you.”

“You can’t make that promise!” I squeak. He rolls his eyes.

“Good thing you don’t mind a little pain, then, right?”

The audacity of this man…But as his smile slips, as his eyes deepen to pools of bright, clear blue, my nerves are soothed slightly.

“Breathe, it will be over soon.”

Now I roll my eyes.

“Not for me,” I grumble. His eyes swish between mine, his teeth gnashing together before he smirks again.

“I’ll see what I can do about that.”

And with a wink, he’s sauntered back to the front edge of the ring, those little round light bulbs tracing the perimeter. The music intensifies another notch as his long fingers delicately and lovingly trace the handle of the first deadly knife. My heart is in my throat, but that fear is morphing against my will; he’s promised not to hurt me, but what if he slips, misses for the first time? I might not die, but it would hurt like a bitch. Or I could lose a finger. Perhaps an ear.

Oh, God, as soon as he picks up the knife and balances it with precision in his hand, the little bit of turkey sandwich I was able to stomach before my earlier performance threatens to reappear. The crowd hushes, holding a collective breath of awe and vile anticipation; I’ve no doubt some of the patrons would love nothing more than to see a woman in lingerie riddled with stab wounds.

The moment he locks eyes with me and I draw in a breath, he flicks his wrist so quickly I don’t even have time to blink. The heavythunkof the blade sinking into the wood by my left ear makes trembles of relief flood me, and I sag against the restraints, tears of rejoice forming as the crowd cheers.

Teddy smirks.

It’s then I remember there’re at least eleven knives left to go, and the adrenaline flows forth through my limbs again.Thunk. The blade finds its home on the right side of my skull. I do my best, unmoving, bottling my fear to be released later. The music changes pace, ratcheting up in tempo, and he saunters forward as if he could care less whether I’m stabbed to death by throwing knives or not. When his hand finds the hook above me again, a dark grin stretches his cheeks.

“So obedient. I wonder who taught you that.”

Sneering and preparing a retort, it’s immediately cut off when he pushes down on the hook and I begin to slowly spin until I am upside down. All of my organs shift with the motion, and the urge to vomit is now from a very different reason. The bastard steps away, reaches for another knife while I am upside down, and flicks it over his shoulder without looking. As the crowd cheers and my heart rate climbs to heart attack level, I realize this one has found its new home between my legs.

My body and mind are at war; I am petrified, terrified of pain, of death, but at the same time, the familiarity of arousal comforts me. I’ve not been aroused in so long, and in knowing how fucked up I am and have become, it shouldn’t surprise me that this little performance is making me wet. I refuse to acknowledge that Teddy and the mystery he represents has anything to do with it. He’s undeniably attractive in his own sinister way, and I suppose that is something I’ve learned to love.

The darkness within me is comforting, powerful, something I’ve made into my own, something I no longer fear but rejoice in. I have a feeling Teddy is the same, not afraid to play with desires most would shy away from.

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