Page 89 of Drop His Mask

Sturdy arms wrapped around me from behind, a comfort that I needed more than anything.

Tonight I would fall apart. Just as I had so many weeks ago when this all began.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow I would be strong; I would suppress my emotions down as far as I could. If only to survive the final rounds.

Because one thing was for certain.

We were nearing the end.

Chapter 48

Prisoners Were Prisoners. No Matter Their Crime.

The Host

Just Over One Month Ago

The Host examined his reflection in the vacant blank screen. Soulless raven-black eyes stared back at him. He felt cold. Empty. Unhinged. He straightened his dark, silk suit and blood-red tie. This was his first year as the face of this game.

At least for his own country.

It would be his job to provide entertainment while the masses fought for their lives below. He would be the enforcer, theentertainer,TheHost.

The two years prior he was simply a game warden, watching, but only ever from the shadows.

The year before that? Well, he had been a player himself. Fighting amongst the contenders for a chance at survival.

Now he would be front and center. He would interact directly with the Creators—the Rogers—and the Sponsors of this murderous game.

He stepped back from the empty screen that would soon show the bloodied chaos of the contestants below him. They would be even further underground than he was.

The Host walked languidly to the leather chair inside the control room. It had been the previous Host’s home. The monster he had killed, the man whose place he had taken. A stack of folders sat haphazardly on a table to its left. Names labeled the tabs, these were new to The Host.

Only a few more players were needed for this year’s games to begin.

Right on schedule.

“We have confirmed the last players. There will be two hundred and fifty in total. One has sponsored themselves. Keep an eye on them. The information for the newest contestants has been updated. We are retrieving the final player the day before we go live, we are tracking her movements. Her folder is now available to review.”

The Host contained a shudder. He still wasn’t accustomed to hearing voices in his ear. He adjusted the earpiece before gathering the folders.

He began perusing the information. Nearly all the players were in different Factions of the Resistance, prisoners held for long periods of time waiting for their deaths or to come here for a chance at survival.

Prisoners were prisoners, no matter their crime.

The so-called Sponsors were “anonymous” but The Host knew for a fact that the Sponsors were not only a part of their own government, but officials from the rest of the world as well.

Their entire world was corrupt, and this game was a testament to that.

The Host continued his examination of the final players to join this year.

On the sixth folder down, he froze.

He did his best to school his features and continue as if nothing had changed, but he could not contain the cryptic smile that spread across his face.

He took twenty-three seconds to decide. The Rogers thought bringing her here would affect him? Well, it would, just not in the way they expected.

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