Page 74 of Let the Game Begin
“Someone whose nose I’m about to break.” Neil continued to stare at the contents of the box, his face now controlled and impassive.
“Look, there’s something in the corner there.” Logan pointed to a section of the box’s interior where there appeared to be a loose piece of paper.
“It looks like a note or something,” I said skeptically, then I glanced at Logan. Who was going to have courage to put their hand in there and retrieve it? But I shouldn’t have wondered, because Neil immediately went over to the box and fished it out, holding it in his thumb and index finger. He shook it to remove the worms that clung to it before reading:
“Let the game begin.”
“Let the game begin,” Logan repeated. I shuddered, and an eerie silence fell over the living room. The ticking of the clock was the only sound that accompanied us.
Neil stayed there, unmoving, with his eyes glued to that piece of paper for what felt like forever while he wore an ominous scowl.
“The note was typed and printed out.” He crumpled it angrily in one hand. I could sense the anger moving through his body, but it was calm that we would need to face this situation. We needed to keep our heads clear and avoid falling into panic.
“No handwriting to identify whoever did this…” I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud until his gold eyes landed on me. It felt like it had been years since I’d last looked into them. I had been avoiding him ever since I’d witnessed that perverse scene in the pool house, but despite that, his gaze still burned into me like an uncontrolled flame.
Neil glanced down at the now-wrinkled note. Logan approached him with a frown, but I stayed right where I was.
“Player 2511…” Logan read. “What does that even mean? Who is it?”
“I have no idea,” Neil whispered, tossing the note onto the table next to the box. He began to pace restlessly around the living room, obviously anxious. I couldn’t blame him, this was an alarming and inexplicable situation. I wanted to offer him consolation. I wanted to go to him and promise him that everything was going to be okay, but my sense of self-respect combined with the lingering shock from seeing that dead raven made me resist. Still, seeing him so torn up hurt me. I felt what he felt, as though we were connected by an invisible thread.
“We need to get rid of this shit.” He stopped pacing and pointed at thebox before grabbing the note and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. The idea of notifying the police briefly popped into my head, but what we would we have said? That we’d gotten an anonymous package containing a raven corpse? They would almost certainly assume it was some sort of prank between kids. Plus, Neil was already on the cops’ radar, and this could have made his situation worse.
“I have an idea,” Logan said, looking at us. “Come to my room with me.”
He went up the stairs, leaving Neil and me temporarily alone in the living room. I turned to look at him: he was so beautiful in that moment, shadowed and vulnerable. I was just as powerfully attracted to him as I’d been on the day we’d met, but the disillusionment I now felt was so intense that I no longer had any desire to speak to him.
After a moment, I shook myself and went up the stairs after Logan. Shortly thereafter, I heard Neil’s footsteps coming up behind me. Knowing that he was back there made me anxious. I felt like his eyes were boring into my back like a pair of flaming swords, piercing and burning my flesh.
I couldn’t get it out of my head, the image of him with Jennifer and Alexia.
Shit… I had to stop thinking about it. I didn’t get to have an opinion on the matter. After all, I meant nothing to him. I wasn’t a real part of his life.
I sighed as I walked into Logan’s room and cleared my throat, trying to regain some control over myself. Neil propped himself up against his brother’s desk and folded his arms over his chest expectantly.
“So, we need to figure out what the raven means and why this person chose it.” Logan had put his glasses on and was sitting on his bed with his open MacBook in his lap.
“Does it look like I’ve got time to waste?” Neil commented in a derisive tone that did nothing to deter his brother.
“We need to figure this out, Neil,” Logan chided him, still focused on the screen. I took a seat on the bed next to him and glanced at the search engine results he’d pulled up.
“Ok, knock yourself out, Sherlock.” Mr. Disaster dug in the pockets of his black leather jacket for a pack of Winstons, pulling out a single cigarette with his teeth. He lit it and exhaled smoke into the air.
“At least open a window.” Logan shook his head and kept typing. Neil obeyed him but muttered incomprehensibly under his breath the whole time.
“Hmm… I’m not finding a lot of positive associations,” Logan said after a few moment.
“Seriously? I could have told you that,” grumbled Neil. He stood by the window smoking with the typical arrogant ease that set him apart from everyone else. I wanted to snap at him to shut up and stop acting like an ass, but I knew that, if I did, I’d only be venting my anger from the night before. So I resisted the urge.
“Here’s something interesting.” Logan adjusted his glasses and focused on his reading. “The raven has inspired a number of legends and beliefs. It feeds on the corpses of animals as well as human beings, which is why it has so often been associated with death and evil…” He glanced up at both of us, and Neil gestured for him to continue, so he kept going in a mournful tone. “The raven is often used in black-magic rituals or séances designed to call on evil spirits.” I shivered, and Neil must have noticed because he shot me a concerned look.
“This isn’t a horror movie, Sherlock. Cut to the chase.” He leaned against the windowsill and took a long drag on his cigarette. Then he looked at me again, like he was worried about me. Or maybe I just wanted to believe he was.
“In mythology and esotericism, the raven is often associated with macabre messages or portents of disasters that are to occur in the future…but, listen to what it says here.” Logan stopped again, sighed heavily and continued. “Legend has it that a dead raven often heralds revenge,” he finished, slowly removing his glasses.
Neil tossed the cigarette out the window and walked over, staring at his brother, who still looked worried.
“We really need to watch out. Trust as few people as possible and watch everyone: friends, relatives, acquaintances, friends of friends. Whoever sent that box knows where we live, knows who we are. They know us and we might know them.” Logan glanced between the two of us before standing up and pinching his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.
