Page 77 of Make Me Hunt
But he doesn’t know that. And I’m counting on keeping it that way.
Still, he doesn’t move, his eyes locked on mine, still weighing his options. I guess the dumb bastard expected me to be scared and probably beg for mercy, since he’s a man and I’m a woman, and our strengths don’t exactly match.
But neither do our speeds. By the time he gets to me, my sword will chop his head off, even if the boomerang’s a miss.
I don’t wait for him to answer anymore and start walking toward him.
I can see he’s panicking, unsure whether to raise the hammer or just call it quits. But just as he tries to open his mouth and say something, call for someone—realizing he’s in over his head—I shake my head as a no, and walk past him.
Maybe he stands a chance against someone like Gina. I’m guessing he’s done his share of killing, judging by the blood on his hands… and his hammer. Still, at least he’s smart enough to know when to back off.
“Hey, don’t leave me here with him. Please,” I can hear Gina beg, but at this point, I don’t even care.
The bitch can burn. In fact, I want her to burn. It’s the only reason I let the Valiantlive. I could’ve killed him when I got near him, before he had any kind of chance to tap out. But I want him to deal with Gina, because, right now, I’m too disgusted to even kill her myself. And truth be told, I’m also a little pissed at myself for not seeing through her from the start.
Sure, I was cautious about her, but deep down, I still hoped there was something good in her. The way I hope there’s something good in everyone, and they keep proving me wrong. Over and over again.
But that ends tonight.
I’m killing off whatever scrap of empathy I’ve got left as I walk into the hallway, more determined than ever to reach my goal, willing to kill anyone standing in my way.
Ares, I’m coming for you.
twenty-eight
-Ares-
I never thought it’d be difficult leaving someone, especially for just a few days.
What are a few days compared to eternity?
Still, there was something deep inside of me that was telling me not to leave Brynn last night. Something that’s never been there before, no matter how many centuries or lives I’ve lived.
But there’s something else inside me that’s asking me to leave. What happened the other night… what happened to her can’t be overlooked.
I can’t pretend I didn’t hear it; or see it.
And I’m going to bring her justice. I’m not just going to end the men that hurt her, I’m going to burn that fucking place to the ground. And I know exactly how I’ll bring everyone there, their worst nightmares come to life.
I have a feeling Brynn won’t stick around my place, even if she said she would. That’s okay for now. I’ll deal with her after I’m done with this.
It’s not something I can postpone. My job here on Earth is to keep a kind of balance. And to be able to do that, I need power. I need to stay ahead of everyone else. The easiest way to do this wasn’t by force—like the myths say about me. It was through control.
Everyone has their weaknesses, the one thing that makes them tick. Whether it’s adrenaline, sex, or delirium, everyone has a soft spot you can exploit. The difference is, what I’m offering is limited. You can find adrenaline in fights or extreme sports. Sex is available by just walking into a bar, especially if you hold a position of power—because these are the kind of people I target. You can find delirium in any kind of drug.
Butwhat I’m giving them is a sensation like nothing before. Unique. Exclusive. Empowering.
That’s why I created Kharon—the ultimate game of survival.
Even the name comes from the Greek Charon, the Underworld Ferryman who carried the dead to the other side.
The game started back in Ancient Greece under a slightly different concept than it has now. I used to orchestrate survival games between my war prisoners—some kind of public spectacles that won the ruler his subjects' sympathy, and the victors their freedom.
That always brought me the power to bend rules and change the course of history to my own needs and liking. All in the name of keeping the balance, of course.
The spectacles later evolved into gladiator fights, or maybe even throwing people into the arena with animals and watching them get torn apart. But the difference between me and everyone else who’s ever done this throughout history is that every single person I put in the arena was guilty of something gruesome.
Sure, then, came imitators who used slaves, resulting in many innocent people losing their lives.
