Page 61 of The Game

Without her knowing, I found them, having been keeping tabs on them. They are trying just as desperately to untangle this mess and get her back, but there’s not much they can do either with all that’s at stake.

The least I can do is help tip the first domino until this whole fucking thing crashes to the ground.

“Alice, dear! Just in time to witness Teddy’s latest creation for our most valued patrons,” Dick says, leaning forward with his old man groan to stand. Maybe I should just keep him locked in an iron fucking maiden and bleed him little by little for a couple of weeks, or maybe I’ll torture him psychologically. No, no…I need there to be blood, so much that he fucking chokes on it, and I need to see it in his eyes, the fear, the hopelessness when my crimson face looms above his and I smile.

He’s taken girls from every walk of life; from high school, from the streets, from foster care, from other fucking men who sell their sisters or daughters. Every death is too good for him, so I’ll do my fucking best to ensure his final moments are filled with so much agony he begs me to end it.

My eyes focus back on Alice as she looks up, twiddling her hands, tears glassing her eyes that she’s trying awfully hard to hide. Frowning, my skin prickles. Something is off with her, has been for a few days, and though I’d thought I could peg it on this plan, maybe…maybe it’s something else. Does she not want to go back to them? Is there something she’s not telling me?

“Teddy, would you care to bring us down to show us your masterpiece?”

Smirking, I pull my metaphorical mask back on and nod.

“Follow me.”

Dick had me build a torture chamber once before, never specifying who it was for but tricking me into believing he was somehow gifting it to me, allowing me to cultivate and refine my impulses. That was the first time I underestimated him, but he cannot trap me in his games ever again.

Descending the stairs, I can feel Alice’s eyes on the back of my neck, can sense her wavering on the precipice of her control. If I could just touch her, comfort her, feel her smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips, she would feel better, as would I.

Locking my jaw, I square my shoulders and head down the dressing room hall, through the doors at the opposite end, before descending another set of stairs that not many know of. Into the belly of the beast we go, darkness prevailing, but only just. The whirring of six custom computers and all their fans is a steady, thrumming heartbeat, and as I flick on the lights above the maze, my two companions pause, one in awe, one in fear.

“Splendid, magnificent,” Dick breathes. My eyes swivel to Alice next to him, her arms crossed, her eyes locked on the singular entrance that doubles as an exit. It is all made of glass so those on the outside may spectate, but those on the inside are trapped in their own hell. I alone know the way out, having lied to Dick about it, of course.

“Start it up, Teddy, would you?” he asks, clapping his papery hands together. Nodding, I step toward my chair and main computer, seating myself and signing in. My password should trigger another message to be broadcast, one to each of the girls’ phones, warning them of what is to come and to find a way to leave.

“If you head through the doors, I can show you—”

He tuts, shaking his head, and the widening of Alice’s eyes and the ice in my veins is the only warning I receive that something is about to go terribly wrong.

“Dear Alice is so much younger and spry. Head through, dear. Teddy’s configured it so that if you take every left, you’ll find your way out.”

Frozen to my chair, my eyes locked with hers, my brain sifts quickly through any options I may have, but there are none. Everything has been planned and timed with precision, and if just one aspect is slightly off, my mother could die, the girls here could die—wecould fucking die.

Alice knows to take all the rights to get out. What she doesn’t know is that the mirrors double as screens, and any image Dick decides he wants to have played will be displayed, psychologically torturing the inhabitant. I’d intended it for him, obviously, because the fucker has a phobia of blood and gore. My stomach sinks further.

The video I have loaded?

Alice will never fucking look at me the same. She knows I’ve murdered my father. She doesn’t know how many others I’ve killed. So many I began to lose count.

So many that I needed trophies to remember them by, needed something to commemorate that feeling of euphoria flowing through my veins to get me through every fucking day in this hell. She will see me in those videos, and she will watch as my prey is ruthlessly hunted and mutilated and eventually killed, their blood my baptism.

Tears brim her eyes, and I give the most subtle shake of my head I am able. She has no choice, and neither do I, and I have to fucking figure something out to make sure she gets out before they get too bad. I almost snort to myself; they’re all fucking deplorable, vile, evil in a way she’s never seen and should never have to see.

If I had a soul, it died the night I killed my father, and I was reborn into the man I was always meant to be, but that is something even she will not be able to understand. Her men are killers, but I know they’d never expose her to that side of themselves purposely. Some things are better kept a secret, or at the very least acknowledged and never spoken of again.

“I don’t feel good—” she starts, swishing her wide eyes to Dick. His frown is quick to form, and in his eyes I see him slipping. Shifting, I lean back casually, jerking my head to the maze.

“I won’t strobe the lights, then.”

Her eyes land on mine, pleading, conveying more than just resistance. Something is wrong, and she’s completely terrified. Grinding my molars, resisting that impulse to stand and stride across the room and pull her body to mine is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but she just sniffs and nods, resigned as Dick pats her shoulder and leaves his grimy hand on her, guiding her to the doors.

She flinches at his touch, but my eyes swish instead to the clock. We’re wasting precious time, and she knows this. It’s literally now or never, for we are risking our loved one’s lives by stalling.

Those round sapphire gems twinkle under the fluorescent lights as they hold mine for one last beat, and my heart sinks. She disappears beyond the thick black doors, and Dick shuts them as I turn back to my computer and attempt to switch the videos as quickly as possible, fingers poised over the strobing keyboard.

The click of a lever on a handgun has my stomach writhing, the cool metal pressed to my temple, forcing me to freeze, my jaw locking and my eyes narrowing.

“You think you’re smart?” a voice hisses from my right. My eyes swish to a man I recognize but do not know. I’ve seen him lurking around here from time to time, but I always figured he was simply a lower-level patron. He’s bald, Russian if my placement of his accent is correct, and it’s then it clicks.He’s the rat.

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