Page 36
Story: Game Over
My mind struggles to process what’s happening. “And if I make it there before you catch me?”
His smile widens. “Then you keep the prize. But if I catch you first...” His eyes darken as they sweep over my body. “I get to use you however I please.”
I swallow hard, understanding exactly what he means.
“And if I refuse to play?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
His expression hardens. “Then we go back upstairs, and I introduce you to the punishment room. Trust me,Kira, the maze is the better option.”
I believe him. How he casually mentions a “punishment room” sends ice through my veins.
“Your time starts now,” he says, tapping his watch. “Better run,Mischief.”
I take a hesitant step toward the maze entrance, my mind racing through options—none of them good.
“Wait.”Rykergrabs my arm as I start to move. “You’re forgetting something.”
Before I can react, he produces a knife from his belt and cuts through my shirt in one swift motion. I scream, trying to back away, but his grip on my arm is iron. The knife continues its work, slicing through my jeans and underwear until I stand before him in shreds of fabric.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shriek, trying desperately to cover myself.
“Level Two is about vulnerability,” he says calmly as if explaining a normal game mechanic. “Physical and psychological. You’ll run the maze as nature intended.”
I stare at him in horror, my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt to maintain dignity. “You’re sick. This is sick.”
“It’s a game,Kira. My game. My rules.” He steps back, admiring his handiwork as I stand naked and trembling. “Four minutes and thirty seconds left of your head start. I suggest you use it wisely.”
Tears of rage and humiliation burn in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Instead, I channel my fear into anger, letting it fuel me.
“Fuck you,” I spit, backing toward the maze entrance. “When I get out of here—and I will get out—I’m going to make sure you rot in prison for the rest of your miserable life.”
He smiles, unperturbed by my threat. “Four minutes, fifteen seconds.”
With no other choice, I turn and run into the maze, naked and afraid. The concrete floor is cold beneath my bare feet. The air chills my exposed skin, raising goosebumps everywhere. But I don’t slow down. I can’t.
Left turn. Right turn. Another right. The maze walls blur past as I run, my breath coming in desperate gasps.Ryker’s countdown echoes in my mind—four minutes left of my head start.
I refuse to be his prey. I refuse to let him win. Somehow, I’ll find a way through this maze and whatever sick games he has planned next. And then, somehow, I’ll find a way to escape.
Because no matter what he thinks, no matter what he’s planned, I am not his to keep. I am not his game to play. And I will never, ever willingly submit to him.
13
RYKER
Icheck my wristwatch, counting the seconds of Kira’s head start. The digital numbers blink methodically—four minutes left, then three. My pulse quickens with each passing moment. The basement air feels electric against my skin.
I track her movements through the security monitors on the wall behind me. She’s disoriented, taking wrong turns already. I designed this maze with psychological torture in mind—corridors that seem to lead somewhere only to dead-end, paths that circle back on themselves. Even if she had an hour, she might never find the center.
Two minutes remaining. I slide the ghost mask over my face, feeling the familiar contours press against my skin. It’s become more than a disguise—it’s a transformation. When the mask covers my face, I become something beyond human constraints.
One minute. My cock strains against my pants as I watch her naked body fleeing through the corridors. When she glances back, I imagine the fear in her eyes. She doesn’t realize yet that this isn’t about escape. It’s about the hunt.
Zero. Time’s up.
“Ready or not,” I call out, voice echoing through the maze’s speaker system. “I’m coming to find you.”
I enter the labyrinth at a measured pace. No need to rush—the maze funnel design ensures she’ll eventually hit major blockades that force her toward the center through increasingly difficult routes. I know every corner, every shadow. I built this place inch by inch and tested every angle.
His smile widens. “Then you keep the prize. But if I catch you first...” His eyes darken as they sweep over my body. “I get to use you however I please.”
I swallow hard, understanding exactly what he means.
“And if I refuse to play?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
His expression hardens. “Then we go back upstairs, and I introduce you to the punishment room. Trust me,Kira, the maze is the better option.”
I believe him. How he casually mentions a “punishment room” sends ice through my veins.
“Your time starts now,” he says, tapping his watch. “Better run,Mischief.”
I take a hesitant step toward the maze entrance, my mind racing through options—none of them good.
“Wait.”Rykergrabs my arm as I start to move. “You’re forgetting something.”
Before I can react, he produces a knife from his belt and cuts through my shirt in one swift motion. I scream, trying to back away, but his grip on my arm is iron. The knife continues its work, slicing through my jeans and underwear until I stand before him in shreds of fabric.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shriek, trying desperately to cover myself.
“Level Two is about vulnerability,” he says calmly as if explaining a normal game mechanic. “Physical and psychological. You’ll run the maze as nature intended.”
I stare at him in horror, my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt to maintain dignity. “You’re sick. This is sick.”
“It’s a game,Kira. My game. My rules.” He steps back, admiring his handiwork as I stand naked and trembling. “Four minutes and thirty seconds left of your head start. I suggest you use it wisely.”
Tears of rage and humiliation burn in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Instead, I channel my fear into anger, letting it fuel me.
“Fuck you,” I spit, backing toward the maze entrance. “When I get out of here—and I will get out—I’m going to make sure you rot in prison for the rest of your miserable life.”
He smiles, unperturbed by my threat. “Four minutes, fifteen seconds.”
With no other choice, I turn and run into the maze, naked and afraid. The concrete floor is cold beneath my bare feet. The air chills my exposed skin, raising goosebumps everywhere. But I don’t slow down. I can’t.
Left turn. Right turn. Another right. The maze walls blur past as I run, my breath coming in desperate gasps.Ryker’s countdown echoes in my mind—four minutes left of my head start.
I refuse to be his prey. I refuse to let him win. Somehow, I’ll find a way through this maze and whatever sick games he has planned next. And then, somehow, I’ll find a way to escape.
Because no matter what he thinks, no matter what he’s planned, I am not his to keep. I am not his game to play. And I will never, ever willingly submit to him.
13
RYKER
Icheck my wristwatch, counting the seconds of Kira’s head start. The digital numbers blink methodically—four minutes left, then three. My pulse quickens with each passing moment. The basement air feels electric against my skin.
I track her movements through the security monitors on the wall behind me. She’s disoriented, taking wrong turns already. I designed this maze with psychological torture in mind—corridors that seem to lead somewhere only to dead-end, paths that circle back on themselves. Even if she had an hour, she might never find the center.
Two minutes remaining. I slide the ghost mask over my face, feeling the familiar contours press against my skin. It’s become more than a disguise—it’s a transformation. When the mask covers my face, I become something beyond human constraints.
One minute. My cock strains against my pants as I watch her naked body fleeing through the corridors. When she glances back, I imagine the fear in her eyes. She doesn’t realize yet that this isn’t about escape. It’s about the hunt.
Zero. Time’s up.
“Ready or not,” I call out, voice echoing through the maze’s speaker system. “I’m coming to find you.”
I enter the labyrinth at a measured pace. No need to rush—the maze funnel design ensures she’ll eventually hit major blockades that force her toward the center through increasingly difficult routes. I know every corner, every shadow. I built this place inch by inch and tested every angle.
Table of Contents
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