Page 11 of Cut Her Strings (Fractured Puppets #1)
Chapter 10
Player 189
I found Jayce standing near 196 and 194; his eyes were thunderous.
"You good?" I asked as I approached.
"Sure," he responded, his hands clenched into fists.
"We were just telling old boy here how hot you would look naked and full of our cum." 196 laughed, throwing an arm around my waist and pulling me flush to him, rubbing his bulge against my belly. "You ever been shared, pretty girl?"
The question caught me off guard, but for a moment, I imagined myself pinned between 197 and Levi. A flush spread across my cheeks, and desire shot through me. I shook my head to clear the thought, causing 196 to laugh.
Quicker than he could react, I had 196 flat on the ground as I sat on his chest, my hand wrapped around the front of his throat, effectively cutting off his airway. "Have you?" I asked .
197 walked up, clapping and laughing, "Leave her alone; we're all working together." He voiced the sentence loudly enough for anyone near us to hear. "For now," he spoke this part just for our ears.
I turned to Jayce. "I told you, I can handle myself."
He scowled but offered me a hand and helped to haul me off the huge man I was still using as a chair and actively choking. 196 began coughing as he was finally able to breathe.
"Let's go find L--182," I corrected myself, keeping Jayce's hand in mine and dragging him with me before 197's men could say anything else to set him off.
It took a minute, but we eventually found Levi at a table filled with women. He appeared to be in his element. An unfamiliar emotion rolled through me, and it took a moment to realize it was jealousy. I didn’t like Levi surrounded by these strange women. The realization surprised me, but I tempered it down as quickly as it flared up.
He turned to me as we approached. "Well, there you are, darlin'. I was talking to all these here ladies about you."
Sitting in the empty chair beside Levi, I gave a tight-lipped smile while Jayce stood like a bodyguard at my back.
"Ignore this cranky fella here," he told the women, pointing to Jayce. Levi patted me on the arm. "These are the only two groups with all women, and they're both quite interested in boosting their chances."
I recognized the team: 32, 33, and 34. The other was the woman who had trapped 197; she was 41, and her partner was 42.
32 spoke first, "The three of us don't have the strength, but we have the resilience and speed. We have been professionally trained for years to join the military, but we are all deserters." She paused and whispered the next part, "All five of us women are part of the Stealth Faction of the Resistance."
That information didn't surprise me; the contestants were usually chosen due to their ties to the Resistance.
I gave a half-shrug. "I was part of the Retrieval Faction for the last several years."
Jayce startled behind me, and the women's eyes widened. "How are you alive?"
It was an understandable question. Only a few lived long in that Faction, typically cycling to another in the first year. They were often caught, tortured, and killed.
The Stealth Faction had the most members. They were the ones who kept their ears to the ground and reported any information that could help the other Factions and the Resistance as a whole. They often went unnoticed; while their information was helpful, it was irregular.
The Government knew the most about the Brutality Faction. It actively killed off Officials and did so in very public ways. Its members were numerous but hidden.
The Retrieval Faction was different. We never wore our own face; we spent months crafting a new persona and allowed ourselves to become another victim . Sometimes, we would make it out, but many did not. We aimed to retrieve the most pertinent information we could and frequently helped those wrongly imprisoned escape.
They were all staring at me, and I realized I never answered the question. "Luck." I shrugged my shoulders.
32 narrowed her eyes at me. "Sure," she stated. "My friend was part of that Faction; you might recognize her name, Terra."
I did. Terra was on her very first job; her target was a cruel man. I met her briefly in passing and she seemed like a sweet girl. Too sweet. Very quickly, he discovered she wasn't who she appeared to be. She'd been publicly and very brutally assaulted and whipped within an inch of life and left for dead. It took two entire days for her to succumb to her injuries. I contacted my Faction to have her extracted, but nobody ever came. Instead, all in my Faction were advised to leave the facility as it was compromised. I didn’t listen. I suspected that was the beginning of the end for me and what eventually set me on the collision course to my last mission.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, calming my nerves and clearing my head as I had trained myself to do when overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry," I finally stated. "I called it in, but they couldn’t make it in time." I decided the white lie might be better than the truth.
32's eyes turned sharp. "You're The Shadow , aren’t you ?" 32 whispered shadow , just loud enough for everyone in our group to hear but not to be overheard.
A siren blared before I could answer her, and the Host’s face filled the walls around us. He was sitting regally on a leather chair, an empty one across from him.
"I hope you had an enlightening social party, my lovelies. It is now time for a few of you to join me for a quick chat."
The Host flourished his arms, and two walls changed to a list of numbers: my number, Levi’s, 197, 189, and 32.
“It’ll be okay,” I stated, attempting to calm the stiffened Jayce behind me. I stood up from the table and noted that the guards were moving in several directions; a few were heading directly toward Levi, 32, and me. Before I could make any more observations, I was yanked ungraciously towards the door we had originally entered through. I caught Levi and 32 in my periphery as they were wrenched along with me.
Once we made it through the hallway, I encountered 189 in his entirety for the first time. He was not what I expected, and through brief encounters with him prior, I didn’t have the chance to examine him thoroughly. He didn’t stand out. At all. Bland, average, nondescript. He reminded me of those who worked in my Faction, who knew how to leave the slightest impressions to get by and go unnoticed. He even appeared to be hunching to mask his actual size. He would be a problem, and I needed to consult with Maverick and Enzo to see if they learned anything useful. I doubted it.
Even 189’s face was challenging to read. If it weren’t for the fact that I was staring into his eyes, I wouldn’t have noticed the change. There was unmistakable interest. I felt uncomfortable, and my wrists began to itch—a nervous habit I picked up after the scars came to be.
189 followed my movement and smiled sharply when they settled on my wrists. I couldn’t place it but there was something about him that was inherently off. Empty. As if he weren’t a man at all, merely the fabrication of what one should resemble. The need to scratch intensified.
“Lights out!” the guard holding me shouted, and my mask once more covered my eyes like it had when this whole nightmare started. It did nothing to lessen my panic. 189 left me on edge, more so than he should have the capability to, and I needed to know why.
“Too bad we’re not allowed to play with them this year,” a guard to my left stated, followed by a loud, hard smack to my ass. I knew better than to react and gritted my teeth. This sting was nothing.
Seconds later, I heard a heavy thud from the handsy guard’s direction.
“Oh fuck, I knew he was going to get into trouble with that shit,” my guard grumbled. There was a soft thud, maybe a kick? “You two, get rid of him. He’s not going to get back up on his own.”
My guard yanked on me, and as a door opened, the change in the air was drastic. Before, it had been comfortable, but it dropped over fifteen degrees in this new space.
“Change her into this.” My guard let me go, and I felt as if my cotton clothes—undergarments, shoes, and all—were ripped off unceremoniously.
After a moment, a silky material fell over my body, and I was placed in painful heels.
“No, put her in these; play up the small but vicious angle. The Sponsors loved it when she was called that.”
I shivered but it was not from the cold. It was easy to forget that millions of viewers watched everything we were doing. Though I wasn’t sure who all was privy to what we said.
Hands ripped the heels off me, and they placed flats on my feet. I remained still even as they waxed my body and lathered me in lotion. The overwhelming smell of coconut nearly made me gag.
They never removed my mask, and I was curious about who knew my identity. Would they instantly condemn me as the Nightingale, as the others had?
“Perfect.” My guard grabbed me again, pushing me out of the freezing room.
I felt that the frigid air had turned my nipples to hardened points, and I was not given the luxury of undergarments in my new outfit. I attempted to cover my chest with my arms, but the guard yanked them away.
“You’re lucky we aren’t allowed to play this year,” the guard taunted me as we walked.
I remained silent; what could I say? You’re lucky I decided you weren’t worth the trouble ? Players had killed guards in years past, and the players were punished severely, but they weren’t killed for it. If the guards crossed the line, I would ensure they never did again.
After several more minutes of walking through an apparent maze, the guard let me go, and my sight returned after a moment .
I stood in front of the Host, a leather chair right behind me, and a slew of cameras and bright lights pointed directly into my eyes. The contrast from being in complete darkness to this intense light was jarring, and I did my best not to show how it affected me. I glanced down to see I was wearing a slinky, short black dress; the material shifted upwards as I lowered myself into the chair at my back. I tried to get a read on this year’s Host as my eyesight came back into focus.
He was familiar. I trusted my instincts, and they were screaming at me that I knew this man that was sitting only a few feet away. I hadn’t been able to tell prior, but this close? It was in the angle of his jaw, his mannerisms, the shape of his mouth, his presence. The mask secured across his face made it impossible to confirm his identity. My examination stuttered on his eyes. Whereas Jayce’s were unmistakable even with the mask in place, these were dark and difficult to read. Except they appeared to be doing their best to communicate with me. And then the lights dimmed, and his eerie eyes went void of anything—a blank slate.
“Well, hello there, beloved 20; I did not realize we would be,” his mouth twitched, “ meeting this soon.”
Guards lined the area to my right, and I could make out the others standing about twenty feet away.
Goody, I got to go first. I turned my head on a pivot—more screens, a wall of them, currently filled with the masked Sponsors. Another wall lit up with questions, and my mouth dried as I read them in swift procession.
“As with everything in this show, we will play a game. No other contestants, save the ones in this room, will see how you answer your question. There are quite a few on that wall, but I can imagine you know which ones are for you. These questions came directly from the Sponsors,” the Host sing-songed .
He was right; there were quite a few questions on the walls, but they all appeared directed at a specific person. A few questions for the other contestants caught my eye.
Why did you turn him in for dead?
Did you feel anything when your mother bled out beneath you?
Do you plan on letting your men live for what they did?
I couldn’t place the other two, but I had a sneaking suspicion the last one was 197’s.
I located a few of my questions and did everything I could to keep the shock off of my face when I read the last one that was clearly mine. How? How did they know to ask this question? This was a secret that only a select few knew. My mind reeled. This further confirmed my suspicions; my Sponsor must be my sister. She would know to ask this. My resentment intensified. Hadn’t she done enough?
“Since we are still at the beginning of the game today, you only have to answer one of these questions, but by the end of the game, be prepared to answer them all, dear 20.” The Host spoke in a baritone voice that was difficult to recognize, but his sharp eyes did not match the tone. What was he trying to convey to me?
I skimmed my questions.
“I’m ready,” I stated in the steadiest voice I could muster.
“Remember, we’ll know if you’re lying.” He tapped on his neck where my collar would be.
I narrowed my eyes and nodded.
“Good dear, now do tell me what question you will be answering?”
“Did it hurt to die?”
The Host laughed humorlessly. “The Sponsors did not expect you to answer that one first.” He paused and appeared to be listening to something, angling his head and tightening his lips. “Go ahead, dearest, be sure to include all the gruesome details.”
“It was not my death that hurt; it was waking up and knowing that it caused more pain and agony than I was worth. It hurt that I was alive when others ” –I hissed the word out– “were no longer with me.” I hadn’t realized how difficult this would be to still speak about; I had thought myself numb to it. How could I explain that my sister’s betrayal was nothing compared to waking up alone and realizing everything had changed?
The Host’s blank facade disappeared momentarily, and I saw a fathomless well of grief and unthinkable suffering. Before he could secure his blank slate firmly in place, his eyes met mine. He gestured for me to continue.
“So no, it did not hurt to die; it hurt that I did not stay dead.”
“Do you regret it?” the Host whispered. The question seemed to slip out against his will, but he quickly returned to that sing-song voice. “Do you, dearest?”
I may have answered his question differently if he had asked me when I first woke up alone in that room or even just a few months ago after my last mission. But now here I was, reunited with Jayce, happier than I had any right to be. Especially in here. “I don’t.”
The Host gifted me a genuine smile, and then he let out a hyena laugh, staring directly toward the wall of Sponsors. I couldn’t get a read on the man; he was giving me whiplash. The Host in the years prior wasn’t nearly this off-kilter; that man had clearly enjoyed his role in these games. But this Host? He left me reeling.
“Well, there you have it: a girl back from the dead, sent to the most dangerous place she could be. Do you think she can cheat death again?” the Host belted the words, and I watched his eyes as he did so. They were void of anything—soulless.
The previously muted Sponsors were now cheering and making noises through the speakers around us. Dollar amounts below their names were changing, and quite a few increased rapidly. The sounds were overwhelming, and I attempted not to be sensory overloaded by the lights, noises, and emotions.
“It looks like you’re a crowd favorite. Now stand up. Let the Sponsors see you,” the Host crooned.
It was the exact opposite of what I wanted, but I acquiesced and stood up, squaring my shoulders and jutting my chin. I did my best to seem unphased even in the silky short dress that did nothing to hide my size or stature.
Wolf whistles sounded from several of the screens.
“There you have it, folks. Now, next up, we have 32.” The Host gave me one more unnerving look before a guard yanked me off the stage.
32 was shoved unceremoniously up, into my place. They had also redressed 32 but, unlike me, they put her into heels and a blood-red dress. I couldn't see much more of 32 before she sat down, as I made it to the wall with the others. The guard pushed me between 197 and Levi. The latter reached out and squeezed my hand. 197 stared at our hands before reaching out and doing the same. Whereas Levi's gave me comfort, 197's compressed so tightly that it wasn’t long before it went numb. I decided to let him work out his frustrations and let it be.
The Sponsors were once more silenced.
"Well, hello there, 32. I must say you were a shock to everyone, not quite enough to be rewarded, but close," the Host taunted. "Same rules as before. Pick one question to answer."
32 evidently found the question she would answer while waiting for me and did not hesitate, " How did it feel to fuck your friends’ husbands?"
"Oh goody, yes, please do tell," the Host cackled.
"Not goo-" she stopped on a scream; it lasted for a full minute before cutting off abruptly.
"Now, now, now. You know the rules. Best to be honest this time," the Host said in a mockingly stern voice.
I could hear 32 panting. "I loved it. Are you happy, you sick fucks? After my husband was caught for something one of my so-called friends did. Nobody sided with me. They all blamed his carelessness. Well, you know what? They were too careless with their men; I could easily slide in and be the comfort they needed. So I fucked them, and I loved it. I got off on it."
The Sponsors were once more unmuted, and again, the noise threatened to overwhelm my senses. At my obvious discomfort, Levi began stroking the top of my hand with his thumb, and I peered up at him thankfully. He gave me a soft, comforting smile. The man was an enigma, a teddy bear wrapped in a hulking muscular body. He could quite literally crush me if he so chose.
"Don't hate me for this answer, darlin'," he mouthed, barely audibly.
When I returned my attention to the stage, 32 was no longer there. 197 dropped my hand and walked himself gracefully up to the stage. It snapped back to silence as we could no longer hear the Sponsors.
197 didn't sit, and he didn't wait for the Host.
"Same rules?" he asked firmly.
"Yes, Mr. 197."
" Where is your older brother?"
"Go ahead," the Host trilled.
"I have no knowledge of his location; apologies for the disappointment." 197 jerked his head, and before a guard could grab him, he jumped off the stage and took up his spot on my other side. He once more reached for my hand, but this time it felt different. The men's hands were swallowing mine, but I felt protected from both sides this time. It felt like we were in a reciprocal relationship. Equally supplying and receiving support through this. I was curious about his brother's identity but doubted he would be forthcoming.
"Well, let's just get through these last ones and hope we get more excitement from them… hmm, come on up here, 182."
Levi let me go and bypassed the guard, getting onstage himself. "Not to sound like a broken record here, but same rules?"
"Yes, old chap," the Host hummed.
" Why did you turn him in for dead?”
"Meow!" The Host was clearly off his rocker, or this is what the Sponsors wanted—an unhinged psychopath.
Levi did not appear perturbed by the Host's form of crazy and trucked along. "I would say I didn't have a choice, but none of us do in this life. I can only say I am deeply sorry, but I would do it again. It was him or her, and I made a choice. A choice I wish I didn't have to make, but a choice nonetheless," his tone was sour, and he spat the words out. They had dressed Levi in full cowboy attire, and he tipped his hat before returning to my side.
He did not reach for my hand, but I could see him vibrating with unwelcome energy, and I leaned into his side. I was doing my best not to lose it myself; I thought my Faction had been a difficult time that tested my willingness to live. But it was nothing compared to this. While I had surprising moments of happiness here, this game brought forth memories and emotions I had long since buried deep. Deep enough that I thought I had finally begun to forget. I chuckled internally at the notion. I had swept them under the rug, and this game was doing all it could to beat it out.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I missed 189 making it up to the stage. He sat relaxed and comfortably in the leather chair.
"How did I finally complete my task of uncovering and killing the Shadow?" 189 spoke the words in a monotone voice.
My eyes snapped up, trying to locate the question I had not seen prior; I found it. I knew with certainty it had not been there before.
The Host jerked in his seat. "Now, why would that be your choice?" He sounded frightened , but that couldn't be right.
"Another easy answer. They aren’t dead yet, but you'll find they're much closer now. In fact-"
189 was slumped over his chair before he could finish his sentence. Levi and 32 moved their eyes to me before quickly looking away. I did all I could to contain the terror slowly building. I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. And if it weren’t for 197’s hand and Levi’s form providing support, I may have fallen over.
"No spoilers, that just isn't fair," the Host said, returning to what I realized was his standard and belting the words out in an off-key song.
The Sponsors were still silent, but quite a few looked livid at the interruption. All I felt was gratitude and relief .
While yes, being mistaken for Nightingale would ultimately put me on the wrong side of every contestant here, but being correctly identified as the S hadow? Now, that would be signing my immediate death sentence. I had most likely crossed every Sponsor on those screens and hurt their business in one way or another. I wouldn't be surprised if they voted me out of this game and put me through an entirely different form of torture. But who was 189? Had we crossed paths before?
That was my last thought before I felt a familiar prick on my neck. Oh joy, here we go again. Hello, darkness, my not-so-old friend.
The Host
The Host watched as the guards lugged the unconscious contestants from the interview room, and the rest of the guards exited, leaving him alone. He hated this room. He hated the Sponsors. But most of all, he hated that he was playing this stupid fucking game. Again. He would risk it all for them, but he was skirting a hazardous line he had just taken a misstep over.
"You made a risky decision," a voice sounded in his ear right on cue. After a pause, they continued, "But it paid off. We had an uptick in betting because of it. Now everyone wants to know who the mysterious Shadow is and if they are a contestant or someone else in the midst."
The Host swallowed his frustration. He could feel his mind splitting; who he was and who this game made him.
"I aim to please," he hummed the words out.
The voice in his ear harrumphed. "It's odd, though, that 189 seems to know their identity. I wonder which Sponsor added that question. Keep an eye on his group."
The Host didn't need to be told twice; he already knew who he would be watching the rest of the evening. He also wanted to find out the extent of their knowledge.
Thankfully, while the show was broadcast live, the audio was not. Additionally, the competitor's identities would not be revealed to the viewers this year, and anytime they removed their masks, their faces would appear blurred. He was grateful for the small blessings.
"You are dismissed," the voice speared through his thoughts .
The Host stood, adjusting his outfit, ensuring his collar was still fully covered, and put on his most feral smile.