Page 81
Story: Rat Race
All I needed was right there in front of me. And I was never going to let Cam go. They were stuck with me, and if they ever even thought about leaving me, I would make both of our lives, and those of whoever dared interfere, a living hell.
Not just that. I wouldkillwhoever dared take them. Slit their throat and gut them before dropping them off at Cam’s doorstep so they would know how serious I was about them.
I didn’t need to say any of that. Cam knew it. They knew just how much I was willing to do for them.
But for Cam, winning the Games was everything they had set out to do, and with it so close, there was no way I’d be ruining it for them. We could focus on everything elseafter.Because there would be an after.Wewould have an after… whatever that looked like.
So I wrapped my arms around them instead and said, “You know it, cowboy.”
And sealed it with a kiss.
It was oddly quiet in the lead up to the finish line.
The only sounds were our footsteps and slightly labored breathing.
We’d been stuck in the maze for hours. We killed multiple people—well, I did at least. We’d been betrayed, hurt, almost boiled, almost drowned.
The tiredness was wearing on us both.
My limbs were heavy, dragging me to the ground with each step I took. The only thing keeping me from stopping for a break was Cam’s desire to win. For them, I would keep going.
Even if my thighs screamed at me to stop. Even if my energy was sucked from me after the brutal orgasms they had given me. Even if the sweat had caused my makeup to run and my clothes were dirty and torn. Even if I wasn’t wearing panties anymore.
It’s all worth it.
We had been walking for maybe twenty minutes when we turned a corner, and right in front of us was an opening out of the maze. No one had come after us, and there were no signs of any other players in the vicinity.
Maybe they all died.
Or maybe the Architects had set this up just for us as a reward for giving them the show of a lifetime.
It was like a beacon. Beckoning us closer. It looked soeasy.
That should have been my first red flag.
But I was just too tired to notice.
Bright lights shone through the opening, creating a break in the fluorescent lighting of the covered, concrete maze.
It’s asking us to run to it.To make a break for it because, in just a few steps, victory would be ours.
I could taste it on my tongue. Feel the cool air slap against my heated face.
But this wasn’t the only path leading out.
There were two more openings leading to the main exit. The hallways were dark but still noticeably empty.
As soon as we stepped around the corner, screams rang out. Excited, loud, ear-ringing screams. It was such a jarring noise after walking in dead silence for so long.
Like most years, the audience and press run were right outside the finish line. They would get to see the first and last of the contestants to make it through.
Whoever was first would have their photos splattered across all social media channels and news outlets.
My guess was that it was used to motivate the players. Just like the finish line at the end of a marathon, loved ones would be waiting for you and would celebrate when you won.
But this was far more fucked up, especially for the families that had to watch as one bloodied player after the next made it out of the maze, while their loved one was left inside to be taken care of by the clean-up crew, never to be seen alive again save for the replays of that year’s maze.
How pitiful. To only be remembered by how flashy your death was.
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