Page 25 of Wicked Games

I stood abruptly to make a run for it before he returned, but my muscles betrayed me, growing heavy and unresponsive as the room spun around me.

I took a wobbly step and immediately crumpled to my knees, letting out a pained grunt. Feeling too weak to get up again, I sank all the way to the floor, sucking down shallow, shaky breaths.

With each passing second, consciousness slipped further from my grasp. The last coherent thought I had was about the drink. How did the man spike it? It didn’t seem possible.

As if summoned by my thoughts, he materialized before me, neon mask aglow, casting a disorienting kaleidoscope of light across my blurred vision. “Sorry, Miss Saracen,” the robotic voice said crisply. “You were so careful, unlike the others, but it was already in the glass. You couldn’t have known.”

“Wh-why are you doing this?” I slurred, barely able to keep my eyelids open. “What… what others?”

“You’ll see,” came the response.

In a final effort to fight the encroaching darkness, I reached out to grab the bottom of his robe, hoping the act of forcing myself to cling to them would keep me awake. My grasping hands found only empty air. The man was gone.

Then, with another wave of dizziness, I was gone too.

Carey

As I slowly stirred awake, my eyelids fluttered open to reveal an unfamiliar ceiling above me. Confusion crept in as I realized I was lying in a strange bed, covered in a thick plush blanket. The only light in the room came from a dim bulb overhead, but it was enough to clearly show the room around me—large with a stacked bookshelf, desk, closet, paintings adorning the walls, and a door on the opposite wall that presumably led into a bathroom.

With a groan, I attempted to piece together the events of the previous night, but my mind was muddled, memories slipping through my grasp like oil. My mouth was dry, and a faint ache throbbed at the base of my skull, silently indicating a severe hangover. This was no hangover, though. Something was different here.Off.I could sense it deep inside me, even though my memories were still shrouded in fog.

With hesitant movements, I pushed myself up to rest on my elbows, slowly blinking the sleep out of my eyes. The sense of unease in my gut grew as I slid out of bed and walked over to the window to orient myself. When I yanked the curtains open,a gasp escaped my mouth, and I took a faltering step backward, heart pounding.

There was nothing to see but a closed steel storm shutter which blocked off the view from the window entirely. Even a sliver of light couldn’t slip through.

Whirling around, I spotted a large white envelope on the bedside table, along with…oh my god.My phone!

I hurried over and grabbed it, rapidly tapping on the screen to activate it. With a sinking feeling, I realized it wasn’t my phone at all. It looked the same, but it was empty apart from one blue app that simply said ‘Messages’. There was no cell reception or internet connection.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered, panic surging. “Shit, shit,shit.”

Memories were pouring in now, fueled by the adrenaline racing through my veins. I recalled the mansion, the masked man, the spiked drink, the feeling of sheer terror twisting in my guts… then nothing.

I snatched up the envelope and tore it open. With shaky hands, I unfolded the letter within and scanned the neatly printed words.

Dear Carey,

Welcome to the games!

I trust you slept well after the nightcap. You will find clean clothes in the closet and toiletries in the bathroom. Please shower and dress, and then make your way to the drawing room for breakfast at 9am.

You will find a phone on your bedside table. There is no cell service or internet connectivity, so you will be unable to contact anyone on the outside. However, it is connected to a house-wide intranet that will allow me to contact you viathe messaging app on the home screen. You can also use the app to message me or the other participants, if need be.

Thank you for coming to play!

Yours truly,

The Game Master

I re-read the letter over and over, head spinning like I’d just stepped off a rollercoaster. What the hell was going on here? Who was the Game Master? Why did they thank me for ‘coming to play’? Playwhat, exactly? And who were the other players?

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t tried the bedroom door yet. I’d seen the sealed window a moment ago and assumed I was locked in this room, but the letter made it sound like I was free to leave it whenever I wanted.

Springing to my feet, I hurried over and twisted the doorknob. It was unlocked. I turned it all the way and hesitated as I felt the door open a crack. Something was stopping me from opening it properly. Nothing physical; just a mental block. I was afraid of what I might find outside. Afraid that this room might be my only safe space in the mansion.

I quietly closed the door and followed the letter’s request for me to take a shower, figuring it might help to calm me down and prepare me for whatever lay in the hall beyond. It didn’t work. By the time I was done, I was still trembling with a mix of fear and confusion, wondering if this was all a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

I glanced at the top right corner of the phone. It was 7:43. Still plenty of time before I had to find the drawing room.

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