Page 82 of Make Me Hunt
I watch him struggling to breathe, almost choking in his own blood. I’ll remember this for the rest of my life, though he’s not worth remembering. I’m trying to decide whether to stay here and watch him bleed out or go back to play with a few more sanatorium staff. This bastard didn’t satisfy the thirst. Not even close.
But then, I suddenly feel it again. That strange presence. Like there’s someone there watching me.
I turn and glance across the room. Truth is, I don’t expect to see anyone there. But in the center of the room, there’s a woman. A sword in her hand, similar to my own.
Very brave of her, considering how many men have fled from my path. I didn’t expect to find my real opponent tonight in a woman, but I’m sure she’ll deserve everything that’s coming to her. I know every player who was chosen to fight here tonight. I handpicked them myself, so I recognize her red hair. Cynthia Aaron. I’ve read her file. She was tried for child abuse and pornography. And that makes me show her no mercy, even if she’s a woman.
She looks at me like she’s daring me to come at her. That intrigues me, but not half as much as the silence. I can’t hear even a whisper of fear coming from her. It’s like there’s nothing there, or maybe like my senses are just numb when it comes to her. I don’t understand it, but the adrenaline is too high for me to take time to process it. And if she thinks she can face me, then bring it on.
I charge at her, my sword raised high above my head as I swing it in the air with a woosh, as I bring it down.
Though there’s no casualty. She blocked it with her sword.
The force drives her to her knees, but somehow, she twists her body and slips beneath my arm. The sound of steel sharp in the air as our swords grind against together.
She’s fast, I give her that. But she’ll soon find out: she’s no match for me.
thirty
-Brynn-
-A couple moments earlier-
Ares is somewhere in front of me, heading straight for the attic, like he’s chasing something, or more likely, someone.
He’s in hunt mode; I can see it clearly. He sniffs the air like a hound dog, locked on his prey, but his senses are sharp enough to pick up my trail, too.
He stops, almost like he’s waiting for me to show. But this isn’t the right place. It’s more like a looping passage than a real room, and I know I saw someone else here. I don’t want to take the chance of having two opponents.
I duck behind an old bookcase, the stench of formaldehyde and rotting books, sharp up my nostrils. And I swear, he’s one heartbeat away from coming for me.
I grip the handle of my sword and steady myself. His head will fall.
But then heavy footsteps pound the wooden floor, and one of the other contestants appears right in front of him.
Ares swings his sword on instinct and kills the guy so easily, it’s laughable. Like he’s a damn war machine, something only built for destruction.
But I don’t fear him. I’m doing my best to push all feelings aside because fear isn’t what might break me. It’s the pain of knowing what I’m about to do next.
Ares leaves as soon as the man drops, but I stick around for a few moments longer, making sure the room is clear.
He’s headed for the north side of the building, and even though I’ve never been here, I can follow his trail. His cologne clings in the air, like smoke—like a poison meant to bring back memories of him, spreading through my system, whispering that I’m making a mistake. But in reality, he’s the one who made the mistake.
I end up in a large room. Bigger than any we’ve seen up here so far. The whole space feels almost sinister, the plaster peeling off the walls, mold and rot choking the air, and making it difficult for me to breathe. This place should’ve been shut down ages ago. But whatever shit went down here obviously paid off enough officials to keep it standing.
I hope, no matter what happens tonight, the place burns to the ground, just like every other building that’s ever witnessed this game.
I spot Ares ahead of me, and even though his body is here, his mind seems far away. He’s staring at a half-dead guy curled up in a corner of the room. And from the looks of him, he’s one of the surveillance team.
It doesn’t make sense, but as I try to focus on his face, there’s nothing left to recognize.
The room is dark, but I can still make out blood smeared across his cheeks, dripping down his white shirt, his ears and nose, gone.
The image is gruesome, and from the looks of it, Ares did this.
But I’m not here to understand what happened to this guy. I’m here to finally get justice for Elias.
I step in the center of the room, waiting for Ares to acknowledge my presence. I’m not a coward. I’m not going to try and stab him in his back and take his head.
