Page 5 of Cut Her Strings (Fractured Puppets #1)

Chapter 4

Salvation is Created

T his time, when I came to, I could see my surroundings. The antiseptic smell was overwhelming, and I quickly stood up to get a better look around. My cuffs were once more in place and, while I could move to a standing position, I couldn't do much more. I let my years of experience in my Faction take hold and began to investigate and uncover as much information as I could.

I was in a large industrial cold metal chamber, surrounded by a few hundred people. The space was set up like a grid, almost like checkers, and every other square was raised about six inches off the ground. Each contestant was on an approximately three-by-three-foot raised platform, and the unraised squares appeared to be the same size and didn’t hold any players.

The room was massive, and it was difficult to see all of the contestants from my vantage point, but it appeared we were arranged twenty by ten people with a few empty spaces near me, save for a hole. Additionally, the women were on one side of the hole and the men were all arranged on the other. All the contestants were on a raised square.

Upon further inspection, I noted the same masks as before covering the top of everyone's face and a number placed on the back and front of their shirts. I also felt a mask over my face, and I noticed I was number twenty. My collar was still in place, flushed to my neck and barely allowed me the space to breathe.

I observed my broken toe had been wrapped. I saw others in my vicinity had various body parts covered; some had more than one. I scanned my vicinity, attempting to locate Jayce, but it was challenging due to the size of the room. While I had mixed emotions about our reuniting, I knew I would need his help to make it through this. At this point all I wanted was to make it out of this game alive, I was making decisions as I went, but I had no wish to hurt Jayce. I was done working for the Factions, I didn’t believe this country was salvageable. If I did make it out of here with Jayce, I would at least have help the next time I attempted to leave the country. Maybe that would be the difference needed to escape. I just wanted to live the rest of my life in peace, away from all of this violence.

I did one more quick scan, taking note; there were about fifty women, and the rest were men. Everyone else appeared to be laggardly waking up around the room. As they did, I could hear sobbing and a hum of anger.

A loud mechanical noise echoed through the space, and I shifted my observations upwards. This year's Host had arrived.

The room went deadly silent.

"Welcome, my darlings, to the ride of your life! We started at two hundred and fifty people, and now just one hundred and ninety-seven remain. Congratulations on your first round of success!" The small platform the Host stood on crept down from the ceiling and stopped about ten feet over the hole. He was only a few feet to my left, and I could feel the burn of his stare as he spoke. Our eyes met. His were the color of obsidian, and even from a distance, I knew he would tower over my frame. Lean, but muscles sculpted the suit he wore. His appearance was completed by a tie covered with what was most definitely blood.

This man was not the same Host from the four years prior. He was new. That realization caused a wave of anxiety to pulsate through my body. Another change from the games before. Another unexpected twist.

Interestingly, he, too, was in a mask covering the top of his face. That was a new addition for the Host. I could make out a sharp jawline and dark hair pulled back. He lifted his lips in the essence of a smile, and the light reflected off several piercings on the uncovered portions of his face. He finally broke the connection, and I released the air in my lungs. I took a few unsteady breaths, unsure what caused my visceral reaction to the Host above.

I didn't have much time to contemplate it. A moment later, I watched all the walls of the industrial room light up into thousands of different screens. I could barely distinguish that each screen had an individual's masked face with a dollar amount along the bottom.

"As you know, this amazing competition would not be possible without the help of our dear Sponsors," the Host stated cheerfully.

We were bugs to the Sponsors. Playthings. The Sponsors held power; they were the ones that chose the contestants each year. It made sense that most of the Sponsors held places in the Government. They got off on our pain and suffering. From working in the Faction and gathering intel, I knew quite a few Officials that wanted to make this a Government sanctioned game. They wanted to show their support and use it as a yearly punishment for those of us that tried to resist their control. Those of us in the Resistance. Thankfully that hadn’t happened yet , as it was bad enough with just the Creators deciding who they would accept as contestants.

Yelling ensued, and the woman beside me tried to get up. In doing so, one of her legs went outside her square. The movement caused her square to light up, and an alarm sounded. Suddenly I felt my cuffs tighten, and my butt was pulled firmly to the floor by a metal chain. I noticed then the hook that was connecting me to the ground. Everyone appeared locked firmly in place; no one else could leave their squares now.

"Ah! Number 47 has volunteered to begin the second game for us all,” the Host tsked as the woman began to sob violently. "My dear, patience is a virtue, but I digress. You have two options now, my sweet fool. Do you want to play or be played?"

The woman next to me continued to sob; her entire left arm was wrapped in a cast. "I have a daughter and a family. Please! I'll do anything!"

"Choose," the man stated, an unknown emotion flickering across his face before returning to a twisted smile.

Between her sobbing, I heard her mumble, "I'll play."

The man put his hands together. "Yes, my dear, now all that's left to do is pick your weapon." All the squares below us lit up—the colors changing intermittently. "I suggest you listen this time before you move again," the Host continued. "As the player, your goal is to get four points. You take more than ten minutes or break the rules, and you lose. Do you understand?"

The woman whimpered in response. Her restraints were released, and they fell to the ground.

"Now, as with much of life, the consequences of your actions will affect others. You see the colors lighting up beneath each person?" He didn't wait for a response. "If it is red when you land on the square with them, you will get the point and be free to move on to the next square. The person inside cannot move, and you are not to hurt them. You will get a point if the color is yellow, but the person in the square can fight back. If they escape first by whatever means necessary, they will get all your previously acquired points, and you will be stuck in the square until it is your turn to play again. Now, if the light is green, someone must be dead before you can leave the square. Whoever leaves will receive the point and all others gained prior." The screens flickered, and one of the walls of faces went black. In its place, a large timer displaying time at the ten-minute mark with the number 47 above it appeared.

How would we be able to fight back? I could hardly move with the chain connecting me to my floor.

The Host appraised the woman. "Since you volunteered, we have placed your number on the wall." He glanced around briefly, his eyes once more settling on mine, and his lips twitching. "For everyone else, once she is done, if your number is shown, you are free to leave your square; however, do not enter another person's block until your timer begins to count down."

He returned his attention to the woman. "Now, my dear, choose your weapon. You may only choose one ." The platform the Host stood on lifted back into the ceiling. The remaining walls that were previously filled with thousands of faces morphed once more, and now they only held his masked one. He sat elegantly in a leather chair on an empty stage.

The Host spoke again. I watched his harsh lips move as his voice echoed all around us. "Please do remember the rules. Failure to adhere will end in significant consequences."

Another whirring noise and what had previously been a hole a few feet from me, now held a steel table. It rose up until it settled about two feet off the ground. I could see all the different weapons on it and quickly noted what I would grab if given the choice. Using my knowledge from years of protecting myself, I decided I would take something compact and easy to deal the necessary damage.

Another noise sounded, and the woman's timer began to count down.

With minimal hesitation, 47 chose a 7-inch serrated hunting knife and jumped into the woman's square near mine as it turned red. The color of the square did not change again. The woman in the square was number 32, she was a petite woman, and her long blond hair was a tousled mess. I thought 47 would accept the point, but then I saw something shift in her eyes. Her feeble facade disappeared; in its place a calculating woman took hold. She moved the knife to clearly stab 32 directly in the chest. I could see the acceptance flash in 32's sunken eyes, but then, right before she could make the killing blow, 47 froze as if she had been shocked.

"Now, now, now," the Host's voice echoed as his lips moved on all the screens. "You didn't follow the rules."

The knife fell from 47's hands, and she tumbled to the ground. 32, who was trapped to the floor by her restraints, was forced to maneuver to avoid being crushed by the falling body. 47's eyes found mine as she landed on the ground. I had seen enough of death to know the moment a body turned lifeless. Across the room, there was movement, and another woman began to shake until she, too, was dead in her square. I firmly shut my eyes for just a moment and let out a long calming breath before refocusing back on the game. I would not let this affect me. I couldn’t.

"Oh, I may have forgotten to mention. Your companions from your cage are connected to you for your entire time here. If they die, so do you, and vice-versa. Remember, you're a team." the Host piped. He gave a dark laugh. The timer for 47 disappeared, and the number 32 popped up, still clicking away, only eight minutes remained. "Go ahead, 32, your time is a- ticking."

This was just another reminder: this game would have countless tricks and traps.

I assessed 32; her left hand was wrapped, but as soon as her cuffs were released, 32 didn't hesitate or even bother with a new weapon. She grabbed the knife from her square and hopped directly into mine. The color was red. She paid me no mind, and I stayed stock-still until she exited a moment later. I wasn’t afraid to die, at least I hadn’t been before I saw Jayce. Now I wasn’t so sure anymore. My emotions were twisting uneasily and I couldn’t pinpoint exactly how I felt. I was used to years of being alone and numb. That was how I had survived. But now? I wasn’t so sure.

32 managed to land in one more red square, before the last one swapped from red to green right before she entered. 32 did not stop. The woman was number 21, and she was dead within a minute. 32’s blond hair was sprayed in red. The blood from 21’s neck dripped in crimson strokes down her shirt. The liquid invaded the number on it and took on a sinister appearance. 21’s cuffs allotted her just enough leeway to fall as she shuddered her last breaths. Two men began begging on the other side of the room but were quickly silenced.

I had seen much worse, but the sight still caused uneasiness to squirm its way up my throat. I almost believed I could smell the decay, but it was too early for that. I felt sorrow seep through the numbness that I tried my best to keep in place. Watching innocents murdered, especially young women, was something I found especially triggering, but I didn’t have the luxury of sympathy in this game. Eventually, they would all need to die for Jayce and I to win and escape this hell.

32's timer stopped.

“It appears we have our first winners!” the Host commended and his hands lifted in fake applause.

32 mimed a cross over her chest and stepped out of the square. A drug appeared to take hold of 32 as soon as she exited, and she wobbled before falling to the floor. I almost thought she was dead, except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Two other women near me fell over as well. Three masked guards came, and all three women were retrieved and taken from the room. The dead were left behind. Their squares still lighting up. Odd.

The previously hushed room erupted into chaos.

"You have to let us play!"

"This isn't fair!"

"Let the men have a chance!"

"Silence," the Host called out. He tilted his head as if listening to something in his ear. "The Sponsors have agreed. We want you all to have a fighting chance. We will release you as a team, and you can decide who will get your points each time. The Sponsors have chosen who they wish to go next."

Three numbers lit up the wall together as simultaneously three beeps sounded: 182, 174, 173. The timers below their numbers were stopped.

Three men across the room stood deliberately. They were large but far enough away that I could not observe their features distinctly.

"Also, everyone in their cages will be released from their cuffs now. Do not attempt to leave your square, or you will be rendered unconscious," the Host crooned again.

I returned my eyes to the large screen, drawn to his eerie smile.

There was something about the man that made me incredibly uncomfortable, outside of him being the Host.

"Go ahead and walk to the weapons table, gentlemen; you may choose one each but do not enter a square until the time has started." I immediately saw my disadvantage. I would be everyone's first line of sight, and I was much smaller than most women here. Allegedly, an easy target. But that wasn’t the case. My Faction’s reputation was well-deserved. The Retrieval Faction. I trained for over four years to hone my skills. I was lethal and deceptive. Even still, I knew that a lot of the other contestants would be just as deadly.

My cuffs gave way, and I heard the echo of everyone else's falling but they were still attached close to the ground and would be useless for defense. I stood languidly, stretching as I went, ensuring to stay inside my square. I repositioned my feet and felt myself step on something; a small pin had fallen out when my cuffs gave way. The pin was just a few inches long, but it ended at a point. I reached down as if in another stretch and swiftly secured it, hidden in the palm of my hand.

The men were now at the table and examining the weapons.

Upon closer inspection, 174 and 173 were most certainly brothers, possibly even twins. They were well over average height with matching hazel eyes, full lips, and jaws covered in trimmed beards. They both turned away from me and I could see the brightness of their red hair. 174's short and messy on the top of his head, 173's long and in a half bun in the back. Only 182 chose a weapon: a sharp steak knife. The three huddled quietly for a minute; I could now see they all had bandage wraps around their pinkies. 174 began tapping his hand on his leg in what appeared to be a random rhythm.

"You may begin; remember, you can go in whichever order you like, or just one can play." A beep and the timer began.

The three nodded once more to each other. 182 approached the woman's square to my left, 174 clapped, and 182 hopped in just as it turned red, almost as if he knew it would. The woman in the square huddled in on herself, as 182 jumped out and landed right before me. Whatever he saw must have messed up his beat, because when 174 clapped again, he hesitated. The color was yellow when he landed.

He wrenched me flat against his chest; I could feel his knife at my neck. "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart," the country drawl vibrated against my ear, his lips centimeters away.

I calculated the decision to fight or not.

"Then don't. Just leave." I pushed the pin in my hand so he could feel it in his balls. I tilted my head up at him and the cold sharp knife dug into my neck, but I didn’t flinch. I felt warm liquid drip down and he swore, pulling the blade back just a bit. Amber eyes stared down at me in a gentle caress. This close, even with his mask, I could tell he was older; it was the confidence and manner in which he held me. 182 towered over my frame and was bulky, easily three times my size. He was lethal and intelligent. This would not be my fight. I peered past him. There were just over five minutes left. "Time is wasting, big boy. Go on ahead."

I heard him grumble, "In another life, darlin'."

I shivered as he let me go and jumped out of the square. Averting my eyes and surveying the rest of the room, I almost jumped when I found and landed on Jayce. His eyes were burning into my very soul. I noted his number: 58. A clap, a thud, another thud. I turned just in time to hear another clap and witness 182 jump into the final square, red again.

182 once more locked his gaze on mine. "I look forward to seeing you on the other side, sweetheart." Across the room, from Jayce's direction, I heard a disgruntled sound.

Gaze still on mine, 182 lifted an eyebrow as he hopped out of the final square. As soon as he was on the outside, all three of the men were knocked unconscious and whisked away.

Another two beeps and two numbers appeared with new timers, and so the game continued. The blood from my neck had long since dried and I maintained my lucky streak, my square continuing to light up red every time someone landed in it. After about an hour, only forty people remained. The dead now outnumbered the living in this room.

The woman behind me somehow managed to escape when an enormous man landed with her as her square lit up yellow. Because of this, his team was forced back to their original squares, and she was able to take their points and secure a win for her team. I could practically feel the hostility radiating from the man a few feet away. It left me on edge.

"Alright, the next numbers will be: 28, 114, 115, 116, and 117." The Host cocked his head. "Due to your excessive injuries, 28, you can have a three-minute head start on your partners."

Only 28's number appeared on the screen this time.

I turned my head to the beep, trying to locate her, and found a teenage girl. Her left arm, right foot, entire right hand, and a finger on her left were all wrapped. She appeared to be broken. Mentally and physically. The girl hobbled to the weapons table and glanced in the direction where the four men stood. I could not immediately locate any wrapped injuries on them. They had chosen to break her in the first round. Correction: 116 moved his hands into a praying gesture, and I could see his wrapped index finger.

"Kat, you wouldn't want to do that; you are our kitty. Play nice, and we will be kind," 117 spat at the girl.

I shuddered, disgusted at his words. The girl hunched even more into herself. Protectiveness and rage pulsed through me in equal waves. If I weren’t in this game, I would execute my own justice.

"This is for me," she said in a soft, steady tone, lifting a carving knife up to herself. I watched as her shoulders hardened. I knew instinctively what she was going to do. I couldn’t do anything but watch in empathetic shock as the scene played out before me.

Three of the men jerked forward. 114 left his square and immediately was knocked out facedown.

"For my sister, for all the little girls you have found over the years and turned into empty vessels. Never again. May you rot in hell. Spaséniye, sodélal." She brought the knife across her neck in one sure stroke; she convulsed a few times as blood sprayed everywhere, and then she was dead. I was a bit rusty on the old language, but I knew the expression. Salvation is created.

I choked down the sob that threatened to spill out, I could not show any weakness. But my heart went out to the poor girl. To all the innocents that were abused by the evil that prevailed in our country. She was one of countless others. She was who the Resistance fought to keep safe. She was who the Resistance failed. She was who this country failed. She was just another reason I needed to leave and never return. Nothing I did mattered; it was never going to get better. I just needed to win this horrendous game and escape. I wasn’t a hero, but I was a fighter. A survivor.

116's head went down, touching his hands; he appeared to be the youngest and smallest of the group. "Боже, нас всех храни!" God, save us all. A soft, dark chuckle escaped me; God wouldn't be saving anyone.

"You bitch!" 117 cursed at her, and then he and the others violently shook and tumbled to the ground below. The guards did not come to retrieve the bodies.

A beep sounded directly to my left and two others across the room. A timer lit up with the numbers 49, 57, and 63. Another beep came seconds later, and the timer began to count down. The woman was 49, the last living woman in this room besides myself. I noted the three bandaged items on her body. She eyed the weapons table, shook her head, and jumped into the square to her right as it turned red.

"Stop Dar! We're sorry. We won't hurt you anymore, we promise. Please, we can work together!" The men, 57 and 63, were still running to get to her before she could jump into the next square, but they were too far away.

I watched in alarm as she jumped into the square of the seething man directly behind me. His eyes lit up as the light stayed green. In a flash, the man reached out, grabbing her neck with one hand and dragging her body to him with his other. "I'll make it quick," he promised. The crack was unmistakable, and the other men who finally reached the weapon’s table watched in abject horror until they, too, fell to the ground.

I swallowed down bile; I needed to stay in control. I needed to go unnoticed. I didn’t have the luxury of unraveling.

The man behind me, 197, sprung into action. He now had two squares and two to go. He exited the one with the woman lying dead and jumped right in front of me. I startled at his sudden appearance.

"I have been watching you. You're smarter than you let on, aren't you?" 197 leered at me, his eyes perusing my body. "Mmm, not yet. I want to savor it, and I have work to do." He regarded his three partners, 196, 195, and 194, as they approached and quietly spoke. "You ready to thin the crop, boys?"

I understood immediately what their plan was for the last two squares. "My cage partner is 58," I whispered to the man.

His grin spread even wider, and his eyes darkened into an inescapable forest. "That's what I thought. You're a survivor, aren't you? Even as the last woman standing?" He scanned all the empty and body-filled squares and then up at the timer. Five minutes left. He nodded to the men. "You heard her." He subtly pointed to 196 and 195. "Pick two strong ones."

They each grabbed a short dagger and split up; 196 ran back to the other side that held the remaining male players. He waited until the color turned green and jumped into a square. 196's victim was right next to Jayce. The man tried to defend himself but was no match for 196's speed. Gone in less than one minute. Two other men dropped dead; 196 was already back out of the zone before all the bodies hit the floor. 196 roared into the air as if to jump at another man. With the distraction, 195 slipped into a corner square as it flashed green. He stabbed the man in the back, and three others fell.

"Good job, boys," the Host smiled acerbically through the screen. "The Sponsors are impressed, and you will be pleased with your reward."

The men nodded to each other once. 195 stepped out of his square. They all fell, and the guards came to retrieve them.

Mine and Jayce's areas beeped, and our numbers appeared on the screen. Finally, it was my turn to play. I walked to Jayce as he exited his platform, bypassing the weapons entirely. He gave me an odd look, but stood still and waited.

Once I reached him, I leaned in. "I have a plan. Can you trust me on this?"

"I once trusted you with everything. I can do it again," he agreed solemnly.

A beep rang out, signaling our time ticking away.

I nodded and walked down the line. I approached the squares where 114, 115, 116, and 117’s corpses now lay, carefully hopping into the square that still held 114’s lifeless body. When I landed, the color was green and I stepped out. I repeated my actions for 115, 116, and 117's squares. When I stepped into 117's, my timer stopped. The Host tilted his head.

"Ah, of course, darling 20, you have made your Sponsor very happy. Congratulations on your win!" The Host’s eyes drilled holes into my head as he spoke.

My heart, which had been threatening to beat out of my chest, now pounded into my ears. My Sponsor? I hadn’t really put much thought into it, but if my sister wasn’t in this game, maybe she had somehow managed to be my Sponsor.

"My dear, it looks like you are someone to watch." The Host had a warning edge to his voice. I understood that being someone to watch was a quick way to die in this game.

I could no longer take the Host’s intense scrutiny. It was time to move onto whatever was next. I turned my attention to Jayce.

Jayce was staring at me with his mouth agape. I shook my head once, stepped out of the square, and once more, everything went black.