Page 19 of Insanium (Devil’s Playground)

I pushed forward, adrenaline kept my focus sharp. After another few turns, I found myself stepping over the nearly decapitated body of the girl who had pointed this place out.

As the overhead lights flickered, casting an erratic strobe across the maze, my nerves tightened.

The thumping, relentless beat of the music isolated me further into a realm of heightened awareness.

Pushing through a set of rubber flaps, I nearly stumbled as the floor dipped unexpectedly beneath me.

“Fucking fantastic,” I muttered, catching myself and scanning the new challenge—a vortex tunnel.

The swirling colors of the walls disoriented me, the exit of a dark void at the far end.

I cautiously made my way forward, the psychedelic lights warping my sense of space.

Halfway through, a sudden flicker of light caught my attention—an LED mask, not unlike Hael’s but tainted in a different hue.

I froze, analyzing the figure as it tilted its head in an unmistakable sign of confrontation.

A chill ran down my spine, and without fully turning around, I threw a glance over my shoulder. A clown loomed just beyond the flaps I’d passed through, clutching a knife slick with blood.

“Well, isn’t this delightful,” I quipped under my breath, sarcasm masking the surge of adrenaline. Trapped between a masked stalker and a clown with an obvious penchant for stabbing, the situation was not in my favor, but panic was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

Gripping my axe tighter, I squared my shoulders and readied myself for the worst. The clown’s oversized shoes scraped softly against the damp, dimly lit tunnel floor as he inched closer.

Suddenly, the scraping transformed into a heavy thud as he broke into a full sprint.

The entire bridge trembled beneath his weight.

With no time to think, I reacted on instinct.

As the clown came barreling towards me, I ducked and lurched to the side, barely keeping myself from falling off the damn bridge.

I felt the rush of air above me as his knife sliced through it.

The sharp blade grazed the back of my costume and left a searing pain across my shoulder.

Gritting my teeth, I swung my axe low to the ground and felt it connect with his leg, causing him to howl in agony but not fall.

Before either of us could recover, there was a blur of motion beside me.

A man wearing a suit and clad in a white and blue joker mask appeared, wielding a machete.

Without hesitation, they slammed the weapon into the clown’s gut, lifting him off his feet and tossing him into the side of the spinning vortex.

At the opposite end of the hall, another figure dispatched the LED-masked threat with a simple neck snap. Efficient, brutal, silent.

The figure in front of me turned, offering a hand to help me up. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Eryx?” I took his hand, pulling myself to my feet. The familiarity of him brought a mixed sense of relief and irritation. Eryx’s grip tightened as I stood, his face hidden behind the mask. “You have a great habit of showing up after I’ve done most of the hard work.”

“To be fair,” Eryx started, adjusting his stance, “we got swept up in this when they mistook us for Syndicate underlings for this Judgment due to our other masks.”

Rafe approached, his own mask slightly askew.

“We know the way out. We came to get you.”

“And I promise no one else will get near you,” Eryx added, stepping closer. “Now turn around.”

“You could at least wine and dine me first.”

“Is this not doing it for you?” Eryx quipped back. “I can’t say the same for myself.”

“It’s the axe, isn’t it?” I swung it slightly, feeling its weight. “I’m quite fond of it myself. I think I have an axe and a mask kink now.”

Rafe chuckled. “We think you have an insanity kink. The more chaotic things are, the happier you seem.”

“Hmm, maybe I do,” I mused, wincing slightly as Eryx examined my wound.

His touch was surprisingly delicate for someone with such a fierce reputation. The chaos of the maze seemed to fall away in his presence, his voice a low rumble that brought a sense of calm. “It’s not deep. Let’s get you out of here so I can clean you up.”

Shoulders squared and determination etched on my face, I turned to face him. “I can’t leave without Hael and Aisha.”

Rafe nodded, his mask giving his features an otherworldly serenity. “Then let us find them.”

With the two of them guiding the way, we navigated the labyrinthine maze.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized, almost as if they had rehearsed this exact scenario.

Every flicker of movement or rustle in the shadows was met with swift and precise action.

They moved like dancers, a deadly waltz of violence and grace that was both terrifying and captivating.

As we rounded a corner, Eryx paused, his head cocked as if listening to something beyond our hearing. With a determined stride, he led us forward until we saw them.

Hael and Aisha, flanked by Liam and Maya, all looked slightly worse for wear but thankfully unharmed.

“Well, look who’s finally joined the party,” I quipped, stepping around my two masked companions.

Hael was the first to reach me, his eyes scanning the wound on my back before pulling me into a brief but tight embrace. “You’re all right?”

“I’ve been better,” I admitted with a small smile, “but I’ll survive.”

“As sweet as this is to be united again, can we focus on getting the hell out of here now?” Aisha asked.

“I think we can manage that,” he replied, moving toward the most obvious path forward.

He and Eryx resumed their positions at the front, with Hael and I in the middle, flanked by Aisha and Liam, and Maya bringing up the rear.

As our group grew in numbers, the tightness in my chest eased.

We made our way through the cramped exit of the fun house, emerging into the cool night air.

The carnival sprawled out before us, alive and buzzing with energy.

Every ride and game was aglow with vivid lights, casting a dreamlike hue over the entire scene.

It was almost surreal to step out into such a festive atmosphere after the intense and disorienting experience inside the maze.

Ahead, a parade of black SUVs lined up like dark sentinels against the festive backdrop.

Their windows were tinted, obscuring any view inside, giving them an ominous presence.

As we approached, a clown, decked out in an extravagant costume that sparkled under the carnival lights, stepped forward.

Without a word, he pulled open the rear door of the nearest SUV and gestured for us to get in with a theatrical bow.

The sudden shift from maze runners to VIP guests didn’t sit right with me, and I felt a pang of suspicion. I glanced at Eryx and Rafe, but they seemed unfazed, perhaps too well accustomed to the unpredictable nature of Judicium.

Hael caught my eye, his expression mirroring my apprehension. “We’re just going to get in?” he asked, his voice low.

“Looks like it. But stay sharp. This could be another layer of their game.”

Before we could move toward the vehicle, my attention was drawn to a large plastic drum positioned strategically by the door. A crudely made sign instructed us to deposit our weapons and masks inside.

So much for bringing the axe along, then. At least I’d still have my knife. With a collective hesitance, we complied. I reluctantly dropped my precious weapon into the drum, the sound of metal clanging against plastic. Masks followed, landing softly atop the pile of weaponry.

Once we were finished, we climbed into the SUV one by one, and the clown shut the door behind us with a muffled thud.

It felt like we were being sealed off from the outside world.

The interior of the vehicle was surprisingly luxurious, with soft leather seats and warm heat to combat the chill of the night.

As the engine hummed to life, the vehicles pulled away from the carnival, the bright lights slowly fading into the distance.

No one spoke; the only sound was the soft purr of the engine and the occasional shift of our bodies against the leather.

Aisha finally broke the silence. “So, where are they taking us now?” Her voice was steady, but I could hear the underlying tension.

Rafe leaned forward, his eyes on the tinted windows as if trying to decipher our route. “Somewhere we’re supposed to be. That’s all I know.”

We left behind the carnival, the manor, and eventually even the semblance of normalcy.

We passed through chain-link gates that clanged shut behind us, sealing off our connection to the outside world, and descended into an underground garage more akin to a high-end showroom than a mere holding area.

Polished floors reflected the soft, ambient lighting, and the walls were adorned with art that gave the space an almost gallery-like feel.

Our SUV came to a gradual stop in front of a long black carpet that unfurled towards a solitary elevator. It was framed by two figures wearing half-masks, standing as silent sentinels. Their presence was a clear directive—we were expected to follow the path laid out for us.

We exited the vehicle and made our way toward the elevator, the soft hum of conversation among us filling the silence of our surroundings.

The elevator doors awaited us, gleaming under the overhead lights, sliding open as if anticipating our arrival.

Inside was just as opulent as the rest of the garage, its panel absent of buttons, our destination predetermined.

As the doors closed, the lift began its smooth ascent, finally halting on the sixth floor.