Page 35 of Cut Her Strings (Fractured Puppets #1)
Chapter 34
Puppet
I spent the next few days pointedly ignoring the brothers. I opted to train with Jayce and Levi instead. I was not upset with them; I just didn’t want to put any energy into either of the men. We were all on edge and knew it was only a matter of time before we were thrown the next curveball.
It was on the third day that I awoke, not in my bed. I had fallen asleep secured between Levi and Jayce, but now all I saw was darkness.
My body felt decidedly off. I didn’t seem to be touching any surfaces, and I couldn’t move, but I didn’t feel any restraints.
I was paralyzed; the only part of my body I could feel at all were my eyes, but even with them open, I still could not see.
This was the most terrified I had been since waking up in that metal cage. I did my best to calm myself and hone in on my other senses. The smell of copper struck me first and the distant sounds of machinery.
“Good morning, my lovelies.”
My sight returned and if I had the ability to, I might have screamed.
I could not move my head, but from what I could tell, I was suspended over a pit with a fathomless bottom, strung up on strings, and surrounded by numerous other contestants. We were all hanging in a very large circle. I could barely make out the players to my immediate left and right in my peripheral, but I eventually counted twenty-two, including myself. In the center of us all, was an empty circular space about forty feet in diameter. Above us appeared to be a huge wooden cross-shaped board attached to some type of pulley system. The board held our strings that held up our bodies and was about forty feet above us. I could not see anything past that. Where was everyone else? There should be more players left than this.
Secured in the hands of all the other contestants dangling, a twelve-inch serrated knife in each. I was able to move my eyes enough to see that I also held these knives, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel anything.
“As you all know, this game began on the premise of victims and perpetrators. An hour ago, we secured the perpetrators. If there was more than one victim on their team, they were able to choose who they wished to manipulate. Victims, you are once more at the mercy of those who did you harm. Of those who caused you more pain than you thought imaginable. You are under their control. You are their puppets,” the Host caroled in an off-key song.
Dread sunk deep into my belly, but I trusted Jayce. I attempted to use my eyes to try to locate our allies, but I could not immediately find them in the chaos of bodies and dangling limbs.
“They will be controlling every action and move you make. They will force you to play this game the way that they want to play it,” the Host continued. “One team perished from the last event. This brought the total down to sixty-five contestants and twenty-three teams. There is one team that won immunity to this game. 195 was the first to secure his victory in the special sleepover, and in doing so, his team will be sitting this game out. 194, 195, 196, and 197 will not be joining you all in here today. That brings our total to twenty-two teams,” the Host’s song cracked. “This game will go in rounds. The Sponsors were the ones to decide which teams would go against each other. The rest of you will dangle on the sideline until it is your turn.”
I felt a full-blown panic attack forming, and I couldn’t move through my typical calming motions. Air left my lungs in painful huffs. I had numerous fears, but the one that left me petrified was heights.
“There is only one rule to this game. The first to cut all the other’s strings ends the game.”
Hopelessness slunk into me. My height would make this incredibly difficult for Jayce. He would need to maneuver me so my short arms could reach their strings while simultaneously protecting mine. We all had about ten strings holding us up, and it was my estimation that the longer the arms, the easier the win for this game. And if I lost? I tried not to think of the endless abyss below.
My eyes finally found an ally. Levi hung about fifteen feet in the circle to my right; his eyes met mine. Even though neither of us could move, I could see his confusion and the agony that clouded them. He would not understand why he hung there, he thought himself the offender. My heart broke for the man. Should I have told him? Would it even matter to know why he was there?
“The first round begins now!”
How would I even know when it was my time?
A whirring noise sounded, followed by movement. The machine above moved two players to the center of the previously empty circle. I didn’t recognize either of their numbers. They were both men of average height and build. I guessed they would make an even match. My eyes followed their strings upwards, but I frustratingly couldn’t see their teammate who would be controlling their moves. Their strings went all the way up to a metal ceiling; it was what was on the other side of the ceiling that was hidden from view.
I wouldn’t even be able to see Jayce as we went through this together.
“You have now been hooked up to the control; when the buzz sounds, you may begin. Oh, and best of luck,” the Host’s voice echoed around the space.
The alarm sounded, and it echoed endlessly.
A moment later, both of their bodies jerked in awkward manners. One of the men, 103, had his arm wrenched upward while his body remained stationary. A disgusting pop sounded. He made no sound, but I imagined it was excruciating. I couldn’t feel anything currently on my body, but the pain in 103’s eyes when his shoulder was dislocated from its socket was unmistakable. His other arm jutted forward in a stabbing motion, missing the strings entirely and 145 by a foot. The other man, 145, had movements that weren’t quite as jerky, but this clearly wouldn’t be an easy game. 145 was lifted upwards several inches before his entire body swung forward, and his left hand was lifted in time to cut a few of the strings with his momentum. His partner found this the best route and quickly used the motion to circulate him; in less than a minute, all of 103’s strings were cut.
103 was silent as the last string severed, and he fell to the depths below. I hoped whatever they had injected to paralyze our bodies would be enough to numb the pain of our landing, but I highly doubted it. I could make out a hushed sobbing above where 103 previously hung. After a few minutes, that, too, went silent. I did not hear 103 when he hit the ground below.
How long would we drop, paralyzed and unable to scream, before we died from the impact ?
I tried to deaden myself to the turmoil flooding my nerves. This was a game taken straight out of one of my nightmares. Was it a coincidence? Or was I being targeted?
“We have our first winners! As you can see, puppeteering is not for everybody. I do hope your partners can learn on the fly,” the Host hummed. “Let’s go up for our next round. Only ten more to go.”
The familiar mechanical whirring sounded. 145 was yanked by his strings back to where he started. I saw the now empty cross pulled into the other space where 103 was prior.
Two different players were wrenched into the fighting circle. This time it was two women. I recognized one of them; 34. She was a taller woman, and her wavy charcoal hair fell into her eyes due to the way her head hung. She was on 32’s team, and an ally. The other I couldn’t place, but her number was 12; she was smaller than 34, which would be a disadvantage. They were the only other women puppets. More anguish seeped in as I realized I would be going against a man.
The alarm once more ricocheted around us.
This time went a bit differently. As soon as it began, 34 was tugged upwards several feet and then dropped downwards at an angle onto the other woman; her hair floated behind her as she dropped. It cut through more than half of 12’s strings, which included the ones that controlled her arms.
It was terrifying to watch 12 dangling with only a few strings holding her up. How was it strong enough to even sustain her weight?
12’s partner began to swing the poor girl; in doing so, the knife in 12’s left hand ended up slashing 12 across the cheek. This caused the person holding 12 to hesitate. 34’s body was heaved up again and then dropped in a circular motion, both arms held up and away from her body.
The last of 12’s strings were severed. An enraged man’s roar came from above as the poor girl fell into the void below.
I did my best to not watch the next couple of rounds. I needed a reprieve from the dread growing desperately in my gut from every player that dropped. I hated this feeling of not being in control, unable to influence my own fate. There was literally nothing I could do except watch as player after player fell to their deaths below.
It was on the eighth round that 190 was up; I recognized him as 189’s partner. He was going against a beast of a man; 162. The sound rang, echoing the beginning of the match. A moment later, 190’s left arm lurched upwards. His body was swung towards 162, his hand coming down swiftly and directly into 162’s chest. Killing him. Dark blood leaked slowly down 162’s shirt. 162’s arms that were being raised prior went limp, and two thumps sounded from above as the rest of his team died, I assumed. 180’s hand was pulled from the corpse and lifted very deliberately. The knife cut through the strings. They dripped red as they were slashed, and the corpse tumbled to the ravine below.
Fuck. That seemed to be an easier route. Kill the opponent first and then easily cut their strings. I hoped Jayce was able to see what all the other contestants were doing.
There were only three rounds left, and neither Levi nor I had played this game yet.