Page 79 of Make Me Hunt
I arranged a private facility to move all the patients on Halloween morning and bring all the staff in to help. We made it out to look like the place got flagged by a surprise health inspection, and the sanatorium must handle a few things, including pest control ASAP.
What they don’t know is thatthey are the pests.
As soon as the transport vans leave with the patients, my men lock the main gate, turning the place into a prison for the staff.
They’ve becomeratsin my game, and right now, destroying them is the only reason I’m still breathing.
Especially, Ezekiel.
In fact, I don’t even make him one of the Rats. I won’t risk anyone else killing him—except me. That’s why I make him wear white just as the observers. That way, no one touches him, and I get to have my fun. Because he’ll know I’m coming for him.
Normally, I focus on hunting the participants with the most despicable sins. But tonight, the one who deserves my rage isn’t a player—at least not a willing one.
I just made him part of my game, and I’m going to make sure he feels every last second of his miserable life. I want him to feel the pain, the fear, because the things I’m going to do to him will be a thousand times more horrendous than death.
twenty-nine
-Ares-
It’s the first time I’m not actively playing in the game. Well, I couldn’t help myself from slashing through a few of the staff at the hospital as I went after Ezekiel.
I always give everyone a five-minute head start, not that they ever use it to their advantage. The fools are always too busy killing each other, instead of running from the real danger—me. But now my target’s very clear, and Ezekiel has been informed by my men that, even though he wears white, he’s got a mark on his back.
That made him run, and crawl, and beg for this fucking life, like the pathetic loser he is. And I fucking love that. I love hearing him beg, knowing his pleas are worthless. I love sensing his fear because this is my greatest gift, my greatest turn on—hearing people's fears. But his… I swear, hearing his fear, sensing it, drives my senses to a whole different height. Sharp enough to catch it through all the noise in the asylum, even if I can hear them all cry, all hopelessly waiting for salvation.
Their victims never found salvation.
And neither will they.
As much as I’d love to hear my sword ripping through his flesh, I want to drag this moment out, forever. I want his suffering to reach new heights.
I take my time, checking every room and making sure the bastard knows I am on his trail.
I start from the ground floor and work my way up. That’s where my guards released him, but he must’ve bolted, sensing the danger. I can’t help but sink my blade into one of the male nurses—or whatever the fuck his job was. All I know is that I almost split him in half and left him for dead in the middle of the hallway, with a few minutes left for him to struggle.
Thewound caused enough damage for him not to live through it. Just enough to make him live through the horror of his final moments. I do the same as I reach the first floor, catching glimpses of one of the doctors crawling to hide in one of the patients’ rooms. I’m vibrating with the urge to go after him and make sure his pain reaches new heights, but just as I’m a few feet away from the door, a player bursts out from a room across the hall and charges straight for the doctor.
Sure, it robs me of the kill, but right now, nothing compares to the thrill of hunting Ezekiel. Truth is, I haven’t been this eager to kill someone since the Greek wars. The only difference—back then, I was facing the greatest warriors of all time. Now I’m only hunting a coward who drugs women to abuse them.
I can’t even let myself go there. The hate bubbling within, the urge for revenge, the unstoppable lust to kill, would make me burn this place to the ground with everyone still here.
And that’d be too easy.
No. I want him to suffer, and the more I close in on him, the more I realize death would be a mercy. That’s exactly why I have much darker plans for him. I’ve got the devil's blood running through my veins; making people suffer is my second nature. But what I’m about to do to him could rival the grossest horror movie ever made.
My bloodlust is peaking, so I slash through a few contestants and the sanatorium staff members, hoping I can keep it at bay—at least until I catch him. I don’t even know when I passed from the second floor to the third, and if I’d taken one second longer, I would’ve missed him. But I just noticed him running to hide in one of the rooms.
It should be too easy. I follow, but when I step in, it looks like no one is in here.
There’s a built-in wardrobe and two stacked bunk beds—practically prison-issue. This room is meant only for patients with a low risk of suicide or self-harm.
There isn’t much space to hide, so I yank open the wardrobe door, and a few clothes flutter from the movement. But there’s no sign of Ezekiel.
Rage simmers through me as I tear the clothes down and throw them on the floor. The closet’s empty, butI knowI saw him come into this room.
My eyes go to the beds—nothing unusual, no sign of anyone being here.
But then I realize... he’s found the perfect hiding spot.
