Page 3 of The Player
“Oh, come on. That’s not the WilsonIknow.” I take another step forward. “The WilsonIknowlovesplaying games.” My eyes narrow behind my mask now as the words that haunted me for so many years drip freely off my tongue. “Are you ready for me,little one?”
Realisation hits him like a lightning bolt, and his beady eyes bulge out of their sockets. Then, he shakes his head vehemently, rancid spit flying from the corners of his mouth as he gasps, “No, no, no,” over and over, trying to convince himself that the ghost standing before him isn’t real.
“Oh yes,Wilson.” I nod slowly. “Or should I say… needle dick?” I stand taller, revelling in the fact that my ghost is affecting him so badly. “Long time no see,” I add with an evil snigger.
“Why didn’t I? How? It can’t be…” He takes a step back as he stutters, his body colliding clumsily with the shelving behind him as his mind scrambles and his eyes grow dark with panic. “But you… you’re dead. They said you were dead.”
“I am dead,” I state, moving to block his only exit from the checkout. “And all this”—I gesture to myself, my hands moving slowly up and down my body—“is just a figment of your fucked-up imagination.”
“What do you want?” he barks, his hands searching blindly for something, anything he can use as a weapon.
Too late, fucker. Your time is up.
“I thought it’d be fun to… catch up.” I fold my arms as my body stills. My senses are on high alert and ready to attack, but my mind is calm, at peace with the sins I’m about to commit.
The scales of redemption need to be rebalanced, and that’s what I’m here for.
It’s payback time.
“I thought it’d be fun to play my own game tonight,” I add. “Would you like that,Wilson? Would you like to bemyplaything for a change?”
He sneers, squaring his shoulders, clearly misreading the room. He has no power here.
“You’re gonna regret coming here. I’ll make you fucking pay,” he snaps as he lurches towards me, ready to fight.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I reply calmly, ripping the needle out of my pocket and stabbing it hard into his neck. A wave of sublime satisfaction flows through me as I push down on the plunger, grinding the needle into his flesh as he hits the floor. “You’re the one who’s going to pay. And I have a few friends of yours that’re going to pay right along with you. Most of them are waiting for us right now.” I lean down, and even though he can’t hear me, I whisper the last part into his ear. “I’m gonna make you live to regret your own existence,Wilson. You deserve to die the worst, most fucked-up death imaginable, and trust me, I’ve imagined ita lot. But it won’t be today. I’m here to make sure you suffer for as long asIdeem necessary. I’m in control now. It’s my game. Are you ready, Wilson? Are you ready to face me? Are you ready to take onThe Taskmaster?”
ChapterOne
BRYONY
“So, Bryony, do you want a general reading or are you looking for something more specific tonight?” Despite the closed curtains and subdued lighting in the living room, I could see the cogs in Paula’s brain working overtime as a twinkle flickered in her eyes. “I could tailor it to your love life if you like?”
And there it was.
She was so predictable.
Paula, my mum’s best friend, feigned innocence as she sat opposite me at my mum’s dining table, nonchalantly setting out her crystals on the moon and star embroidered tablecloth. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders in wild brown curls that the flower hairband she’d put in couldn’t tame. She looked angelic, bohemian, like a flower child of the seventies. But then she peered up at me through her long, black lashes and grinned a wicked grin to show she had anything but angelic thoughts on her mind.
I was here for my monthly reading while my mum was out for the night at some seminar for work, and we always started these sessions the same way. Paula would hint at my love life; I’d try to shoot her down. Then she’d ignore my wishes completely and tell me about it anyway. Not that there was much to tell. I guess she was trying to live vicariously through me and my two sisters. She wouldn’t get much of a thrill from me in that respect, though. My love life was less romance and more horror these days.
I tried to hide the grimace threatening to break free as I fought against the ugly images infiltrating my mind. Instead, I smiled back at her politely and said, “I don’t think either of us are ready to go quite that dark tonight, Paula. Maybe it’s best to stick with a general reading.”
But Paula wasn’t giving up that easily. She cocked her head to the side and pushed a little further.
“Oh, don’t be silly. I always like finding out what’s in store for you, and it isn’t dark. Love never is. And look at you! You’re beautiful, with your lovely long, black hair and that gorgeous face. You remind me of a young Mia Sara.”
I had no idea who that was, but she didn’t elaborate, and clearly didn’t care that I was clueless about it.
“You need to make the most of it,” she went on. “I wish I was thirty years younger. I swear, youth is wasted on the young.” I kind of agreed with her on that one. “So, what do you think, sweetheart?”
I didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, especially when it came to my love life, but it wasn’t something I wanted to dissect either. I hadn’t had the best of luck with guys, but I wouldn’t dwell on it. I’d been stung a lot, and each time had made me toughen up a little more.
My last relationship was months ago, and it’d ended really badly. I’d been seeing a guy I worked with at the tattoo shop. He treated me like a princess, and I thought he was the one. That was until I walked in on him getting a blow job from one of our customers in the storeroom out the back. Worse than that, he had the T-shirt I’d bought him clenched between his teeth as he hung his head, watching her suck his dick on her knees in front of him. That was the worst twenty pounds I’d ever spent.
He took one look at me standing in the doorway and pushed her off, saying it was a mistake, it wasn’t what it looked like. It looked pretty clear to me what was going on, and I told him as much before I slammed the door on him and stalked back to the shop. I felt humiliated, but I wouldn’t cry. I kept my tears inside as I took slow, deep breaths, hoping the fog in my brain would lift and guide me to do the right thing.
Moments later, the other girl came out, black mascara running down her cheeks as she wiped her tears away.
