Page 14 of The Taskmaster
She didn’t need me to tell her twice. As he stood up and lurched towards me, she ran and didn’t look back.
And me? I took the syringe from my other pocket and charged towards him, saying, “Are you ready to play a game?”before I stabbed it into his neck, paralysing him as he lost consciousness. This motherfucker had more than met his match. I went nowhere without being prepared for any eventuality. And my night had just got a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Nine
ABIGAIL
Iwas seconds away from taking that fucker out. He might’ve gotten the upper hand, jumping me in the alley, but I was about to right that with one of the moves my dad had taught me when the other guy showed up.
At first, I thought he was tag-teaming, that they were both going to carry on the attack, but he told me to run, and I did. Why wouldn’t I? It was a Wednesday night, and I wasn’t in the mood for a fight. I had work tomorrow.
I guess I should’ve booked the Uber I told my parents I’d got. I hated lying to them, but I couldn’t afford it, and little white lies didn’t hurt if they were well meant. Mine was well meant. I didn’t want to worry them. I was a strong, independent woman who had her own apartment. They didn’t need to know that I was drowning in a mountain of debt... amongst other things. I was their baby. I wanted to make them proud. And yes, they’d given me money for the Uber, but that money could be spent on much better things, like food.
After the balaclava guy had told me to run, I’d bolted down the alley as fast as I could and didn’t look back. I ran across the road and down the street that led to my apartment block.My legs moved at a ridiculously fast pace, my feet pounded the pavement, and I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. Not until I was inside my apartment, safe.
When I got there, I unlocked the main door, ran inside and up the stairs, then headed to my apartment, unlocking my door and shutting it behind me, resting my body against the closed door and sighing before I kicked it in anger.
Fuck.
I hated that I’d let myself down like that tonight.
I hated that someone had gotten the better of me.
Always stay alert, never let your guard down... and don’t take the shortcut home, my dad had always told me. It was something I always told myself, too. I was a fucking idiot.
I put the light on, took my jacket off and hung it on the back of my door. Then I kicked my shoes off and marched across my living room towards the door to my bedroom. I only had a little one-bedroom apartment, but I loved that it was so neat and compact. It was perfect for me. A little sanctuary to hide from the world. Somewhere I could be myself.
I switched the light on in my bedroom and went over to my dressing table, sitting on my stool and staring at myself in the mirror. I looked a disgrace. My hair was dishevelled, my cheeks bright red from running. I had to do better.
I pushed my stool back and climbed onto the floor. Then I crawled under my dressing table, where an air vent was attached to the wall. I pulled it off to reveal the space hidden in the wall behind it and slid out the box I kept in there. Then I sat down with my legs crossed, cradling the box in my lap. I needed to remind myself who the fuck I was.
I took the lid off and smiled when I saw the trinkets shining back at me.
Abigail fucking Walters.
That’s who I was.
And I would never forget it.
Chapter Ten
THE TASKMASTER
This guy was fucking lucky. I had my next game set up in my warehouse, ready for a new guest. But that guest’s name had just changed, and I wasn’t mad about it. One less asshole would be on the streets tonight. And I’d been looking forward to playing this one. It suited him just right. Fate and karma were working hand-in-hand. It was meant to be.
I can’t deny, though, I hadn’t expected the night to end like this. If you’d have asked me a few hours ago, I’d have told you it’d be Abigail I bring in to play my games. Not this sorry fucker. Life certainly had a way of surprising you sometimes.
It took a few hours for him to come around, and when he did, groaning and moaning in the dark like a weak-ass bitch, I put the lights on to startle him. I wanted him terrified, confused, panicked, and out of his mind. But to do that, I needed to bring my A-game.
He sat on the concrete floor, feet bare, and with his eyes screwed up as they adjusted to the lights. Then his head darted around, looking for a way out, wondering why he was sitting in a concrete cell.
The realisation that I was a better opponent made me smile. He knew he was fucked. There were no windows, no visible doors, but there was one small light in the corner of the ceiling where the camera I was watching him through was set up. It didn’t take long for him to spot it, and he screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK! LET ME OUT, YOU FUCKING FREAK!”
I didn’t answer, despite the way his anger spiked my adrenaline and my excitement for what lay ahead. I wanted to let him stew. Make him wait. Prolong the agony that this room and these four walls might be the last thing he ever saw. But they wouldn’t be. It was going to get so much better than this for him.
He pushed himself to stand, struggling a little from the aftereffects of the drug that I’d shot into his system. He wavered a little, but he tried his best not to show weakness, lifting his chin and snarling up at the camera as he pointed and hissed, “I’ll find you, motherfucker, and when I do, you’ll wish I’d finished you off in that fucking alley. Your life won’t be worth living once I’m done with you.”
Now that was too tempting not to respond to. And I didn’t hide my laugh as I spoke to him through the sound system.
