Page 30 of The Player
Me?
I was born in this life.
It wasn’t the first time I’d faced danger, and it wouldn’t be the last. I had an inbuilt buffer, a filter, if you like, that kept the demons at bay. It was called not taking life too seriously and rolling with the punches. She thought I was being flippant, accusing me of not raging like she thought I should. I raged. I just didn’t show it like other people. The Taskmaster wasn’t the only one who could wear a mask. I had many of them, all stored deep inside.
So, to help her, I’d talked to her, told her about my grandfather, made her think about other people outside these four walls. Yes, the paper plate was bullshit, but I’d hoped it’d make her smile. Make her take the piss out of me like she always did. And I loved that. But her response had been irritable, accusatory, I would say hate-filled, but I don’t think she was quite there yet. Perhaps the head rubs from last night had helped squash any anger that might’ve been directed towards me, but that’d come. Maybe. If I didn’t do something to help her through this.
I tried to get her to see that things could be worse. If we were still here, still talking, breathing, sharing the same air, there was hope. It could always be worse. We could be dead already. But I decided against sharing that nugget with her. She had enough darkness swirling around her mind; she didn’t need more. So, I went down the medieval torture route. Aren’t we lucky we aren’t chained to a rack or locked into an iron maiden? Probably not the best alternative to the subject of death I was trying to avoid, but I never was good at thinking on my feet. Things came into my head, and I said them.
Just as she told me to ‘hold that thought,’ I noticed the TV in the corner come to life, and every muscle in my body tensed, my fists clenching as he came onto the screen. If she thought I wasn’t raging before, I definitely was now. My teeth were clamped so tightly together they might actually crack. This guy had balls of fucking steel to take us, keep us locked up in here, and then appear on a bloody screen like he was a fucking God.
His appearance today was no different. He was wearing a black cloak over his head, and today’s mask was some kind of animal skull with black horns. He obviously wanted to exude death. All I saw was a pretentious prick.
“Good morning, my star players,” he announced, his mechanical voice making him sound like a B-list horror movie character. “I hope you’re well rested and ready for what lies ahead for you today.”
Bryony stood underneath the TV, peering up at it, hanging on his every word. I went to stand next to her, my arms crossed as I prepared myself to listen to more of his bullshit.
“In a moment, the door to your room will open, and you will face your first task. Before that happens, I need to remind you of a few rules. Follow them and you’ll live. Fail to do so and you die.”
I went to call out, but Bryony shushed me, so I stayed quiet, ready to hear what this fucker had to say.
“When the door opens, you will both leave the room and walk down the corridor to the task room. You may not take anything with you from this room. That includes”—he paused—“paper plates or bottles.”
He’d heard what we’d said. I didn’t care, though.
“Once you reach the task room, you will listen and follow the instructions given to you to complete your task. Succeed and you will live another day. Fail and you will die.”
“He likes repeating himself,” I cussed under my breath, earning another shush from Bee.
“You will work as a team,” he announced, as if he was proud of that fact. “And when your task is complete, you will leave the task room from the door indicated and make your way back here. Failure to do so will end in your death. Any effort to escape or flout my rules and you will die. It’s very simple. You are my players and I expect you to play by the rules.”
“Or let me guess… we die?” I asked sarcastically.
“Exactly.” And with that, the TV plunged into darkness.
“Is it wrong that I’m intrigued to see what this task is?” I asked, turning to look at Bee.
“There’s a million things wrong with this whole scenario,” she replied. “But us getting out of this room isn’t one of them.”
I hoped she was right because I had a feeling what we’d find in the task room might make us wish we’d stayed here instead.
ChapterFourteen
WILL
We stood momentarily in silent anticipation, waiting to see what would happen next. When the wall groaned, a part of it sliding open to reveal a gap, we stepped closer, peering out into the dimly lit hallway. Strip lights, like the ones in our room, lit up the corridor, and I took her hand in mine as we walked forward. She didn’t argue about us holding hands, just gripped my hand tightly in hers as we took each step slowly, with trepidation for what was waiting for us at the end.
The corridor was silent except for the buzz of the electric lights overhead. There were no other doors that we could see, only a light at the end of the concrete tunnel to show us where we were heading.
Our final destination.
Hearing her sharp breaths as she began to pant deeper, I squeezed her hand and told her, “We’ve got this. Stay calm. Keep your wits about you.” I peered down at her as we walked. “I’vegot you.”
She nodded, visibly swallowing and whispered back, “I know.”
Once we reached the end of the corridor, we walked through the open doorway at the end, into some sort of anteroom. As we did, the door behind us slammed shut, and a locking mechanism sounded, indicating we were stuck in here.
We stood in the middle of the tiny room, listening, waiting. And then a familiar mechanical voice flooded the area around us, speaking to us from speakers hidden way up the ceiling.
