Page 9 of Insanium (Devil’s Playground)

Once the third key is yours, move to the yellow door.

But beware, your time is short.

Every choice, every moment now, could lead you to an early grave.

“Why can’t they use simple wording?” Juno asked with a groan.

“The point of Judicium is to test our wit and ability to solve riddles,” Liam answered.

“And stay alive,” Jerome added.

Liam nodded. “That too.”

“The screen’s changing again,” Maya pointed out.

The visual of our seating appeared, and illuminated this time were the chairs of Eryx and Hael.

Neither wasted a moment. They were out of their chairs before the timer even appeared, both already heading down the stairs, choosing to leave the key in this room for last. I couldn’t help but shout encouragement.

“You got this, Hael!” His resolute nod back had me filled with pride.

Once the pair exited, the screen sure enough shifted to cinema mode, casting a haunting glow as it followed Eryx and Hael through the dim corridors leading to the concession stand.

Their decision to head there stemmed from a prior clue hinting that what they sought was “hidden within sustenance,” pointing them towards the area known for serving food and drinks.

“Let’s split and cover more ground,” Eryx suggested, his voice carrying over the speakers with a crisp determination as they approached the bright concession area.

“I’ll take the cabinets,” Hael replied, already prying them open systematically as he searched for the key.

Boxes of napkins, straws, and what looked like butter were tossed out onto the checkered floor. Eryx searched the coolers and machines, pausing when he got to the slushies to examine them more closely.

“Hidden within sustenance,” he repeated to himself.

Hael looked up from where he was crouched. “You got something?”

“Maybe.” Eryx ran his hands over the top and sides of the machine, somehow finding a way to remove the back part. The moment the top rear piece came off, a whirring sound grew louder. “Damn, spinning blades,” he muttered, recoiling from the hidden danger within.

“That was close,” I mumbled, leaning forward for a better look, my devil plush watching from on my lap.

“We need something strong enough to stop these. They wouldn’t put rotating saws in a slushie machine unless there was something we needed in it.”

“I got it.” Hael suddenly vaulted over the counter, disappearing from the camera’s view.

“Where are you going?” Eryx called after him.

Moments later, he reappeared, wrestling with a clown who was thrashing wildly. “Stopping the blades,” he managed to grunt out as he dragged the clown farther into the frame.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Eryx jumped in to help, which was surprisingly considerate of him. He vaulted over the concession stand counter with a fluidity that was almost cat like.

“That’s one way to handle it,” Aisha noted as she watched the scene unfold with rapt attention.

Maybe I had been too quick to worry about Hael holding his own in this game.

The way they coordinated, lifting the clown up to jam it into the machinery, was almost poetic in its brutality.

I caught myself biting my lip, a little too caught up in the aesthetics of their teamwork.

They were quite the pair, each striking in his own right—Hael with his quiet strength, Eryx with his dangerous allure.

I glanced over at Raphael, curious to see his reaction to the spectacle unfolding before us. His eyes were focused, a look of intrigue playing across his features as he watched them maneuver the clown into the slushie machine.

I returned my full attention to the screen just as the clown’s head met with the blades.

He hadn’t mastered the art of silent agony as well as his buddy that I’d stabbed in the eye.

His cries carried through in HD, surround sound.

The machine began to violently jerk, the blades grinding through his mask and skull, a waft of smoke floating into the air.

Blood splattered everywhere. It was the same as operating a blender without a lid.

The crunch of bone eventually brought the blades to a halt, and they released the body, leaving it to hang like a decorative ornament.

“That was good thinking,” Eryx praised bluntly as he reached into the back of the machine, his hand making a sloshing sound as it sank into the liquid of blood and slush.

A few chunky floaties surfaced, causing someone in an upper row to gag.

“Found a switch.” He slammed the lever down, and a different component of the slushie machine groaned to life.

The compartment containing the red slush began to drain, spilling out large globs of icy goop that sloshed into the catch tray below.

As the slush receded, a gleam caught our eyes—a shiny metal key lay nestled among the remnants.

Hael leaned over, snatching the key with a firm grip. “Got it!” His voice rang out triumphantly, his grin wide and infectious.

They didn’t waste a moment, bolting from the concession stand as the camera captured their swift retreat, their long shadows stretching ominously across the floor in the dim light.

Bursting back into the theater, the door slamming shut behind them, they were met with applause and cheers from the rest of us.

They had not only returned safely but had beaten the timer by nearly thirty seconds, a feat that drew appreciative shouts and claps.

Darrel leaned forward, his face split with a broad grin. “Now that’s how you do it!” His enthusiasm was great, though I couldn’t help but wonder where that energy had been for Raphael and me.

Eryx and Hael settled back into their seats, Eryx trying to wipe his hand and lower arm off and Hael taking the key with him.

Our attention collectively shifted, and we all waited for the screen to change yet again.

Only one key remained, hidden somewhere among us, and there was limited time to find it.

When the next duo was presented, it was none other than Liam and Aisha.

She was on her feet within seconds, urgency clear in her voice as she declared, “We need to be quick.”

Liam nodded, immediately rising to join her. They began their search through the theater, and I craned my neck, trying to spot the key, feeling more like a frustrated spectator than a helpful teammate.

“It’s gotta be by those clowns.” Liam’s hushed voice carried from the row behind me, guiding Aisha’s next move.

“Well, fuck. I thought that too but was hoping it wasn’t the case.” With determined steps, she approached the clown nearest to where she had been searching, its grotesque smile seeming to taunt her.

“He’s probably sitting on it,” I murmured under my breath, keeping a close watch.

If that clown made any sudden moves, I’d be the first to jump up and defend my best friend—rules be damned.

Aisha’s cautious reach under the seat prompted the clown to theatrically place its hands on its face, mimicking shock, clearly amused by her boldness.

I tensed. It couldn’t be as simple as that.

“Got it!” Aisha sat back on her hunches, key in hand.

The screen lit up with confetti, and a pair of digital curtains swept closed before rolling credits that listed only Tyler’s name.

I couldn’t help but scoff softly. It seemed unjust to give him sole recognition when he hadn’t really played a part in our progress at all.

Aisha went to stand, keeping a close eye on the clown right in front of her.

As she rose, it sprang into action with a speed that was startling.

Its arm shot out, narrowly missing her as she dodged—just barely.

“What the hell?” she yelped, leaping over the seats to put some distance between them.

“Watch out!” Maya shouted in warning, tracking another threat.

Turning, I saw Juno making a narrow escape from a different clown. The rest of those seated began to rise in tandem, their painted grins mocking in the dim light. It was clear now; the end of the riddle had hinted at a chaotic free-for-all.

“Yellow door!” Darrell bellowed.

At his shout, I scrambled from my seat so quickly that I practically fell into Raphael’s lap, clutching the plushie tightly—a key too vital to lose.

He lifted me effortlessly, his strength surprising as he navigated us through the growing danger.

He didn’t set me down until we’d reached relative safety near the door.

Before us stood the final barrier—a keypad that demanded the correct sequence of numbers.

Raphael frowned down at it. “I need three numbers.”

“We’ve got a 1,” I noted, holding up our plush.

“1 here too,” Aisha chimed in.

“And a 6 from us,” Hael added.

Liam suggested a sequence first. “Try 161.”

Raphael punched it in, but the pad flashed red—wrong. “Switch me places,” he said suddenly, moving so that he was behind me, and I was closest to the door.

“Try 661 next,” Aisha suggested.

I quickly tapped it in—another red flash. “Damn it!”

“Spread out! Don’t make it easy for them!” Jerome directed.

That was something we should’ve been doing without saying.

We scattered, moving to make ourselves harder targets while still trying to solve the puzzle.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” Janelle sneered at Eryx, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I will.” Eryx dodged an incoming clown with a predatory grace and approached the keypad. His fingers danced over the keys after a brief calculation, and the light turned green—immediately a success.

Naturally, he was the first through the now-open door.

The rest of us were quick to follow. A clown broke from the pack, its twisted form a blur of motion.

Just as the door was about to shut, it made it through, hurling its curved blade into the first person it got close enough to.

A sharp cry cut through the air as one of the girls—the one with the pixie cut—was impaled right in the center of her chest with such force she bounced back and hit the wall.

The clown whirled around, ripping her apart as it forcibly removed the large hook-like knife, leaving her to fly through the air.

Instinct kicked in and I slammed against the door with all my might, trying to seal it shut before more broke through.

They pushed back, causing my booted feet to skid across the floor, and Aisha grabbed my waist in an attempt to keep me grounded.

Suddenly, Eryx was there too, his hard body pressing against mine, adding his strength.

Together, we pushed hard, the metal groaning under our combined force.

Behind us, the narrow hall had erupted into chaos.

The sound of a scuffle broke out—grunts and thuds echoing as our group confronted the clown while trying to avoid its blade. Manic laughter twisted through the air.

“Keep pushing.” Eryx’s voice was a low growl next to my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

“Take that, motherfucker,” Jerome taunted from behind us. There was an audible thud, and then a wet, heavy sound before only heavy breathing and soft cries remained.

With one final shove, the door clanged shut, the lock clicking into place just as another clown’s face slammed against the small window. Its hollow, dark eyes bore into mine, its breath fogging the pane. I flipped it off before turning around.

“We did it,” I breathed out, momentarily pressed close to Eryx, feeling the rise and fall of his solid chest.

His face was inches away, his gaze intense. He stared down at me, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he said, “You’re as soft as I imagined,” before abruptly turning to survey the outcome in the corridor.

Soft? Me? I guess at times that could be true, but I was all thorns when it counted.

Something about the way he assessed me gave me the impression he knew just what to say to get under my skin.

That had me wanting to push his buttons right back.

That and the secrets in his eyes that I could see myself unraveling …

or just tearing them out. Either way, I was game.

Hael approached, his gaze fixed on me, completely ignoring Eryx as they passed one another. I quickly checked them over to ensure they were all right before my attention shifted back to the aftermath of our scuffle. The clown lay a few feet away, its own blade protruding from its skull.

Nearby, the girl it had attacked lay motionless, a brutal, gaping zigzag cut across her chest. Blood smeared the wall and pooled on the floor.

Liam, who had been a bit distant, came closer, his voice low and strained. “That was too close. We need to be careful, or we’ll end up like her.”

I cleared my throat to withhold a surprised laugh, not expecting those clinical words from him. Hael slid me an amused, knowing look, and I took his hand, threading our fingers together. I had to admit that as much as I didn’t want him or Aisha here, I was glad they were by my side.

Nearby, the friend of the girl, tears streaking her face, gasped between sobs, “Hailey … oh God.”

No one offered any condolences, and not because we were heartless or cold blooded.

We all knew this was a possibility. Even Janelle, who was proving to be a wellspring of dramatics, remained conspicuously quiet.

It was a bit awkward to stand there in silence.

I noticed Darrell clutching his side, a slash visible on his clothing along with a thin line of blood.

“Clown got me,” he grunted when he noticed my eyes on him, pain evident in his voice.

“Maybe we should rest a moment,” Jerome suggested.

“We can’t just stand here,” I replied softly. “We need to keep moving. They could trigger this door to open at any minute.”

Raphael nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “She’s right. Staying put only makes us sitting ducks.”

Eryx, who had been scanning the corridor with a tactical eye, spoke up. “There’s got to be another exit. This hall can’t be a dead end.”

We proceeded down the long hallway, unsure of what lay ahead but prepared for anything that may come our way.

Aisha and Hael walked beside me, providing a steady presence and support.

Raphael trailed closely behind us, keeping a watchful eye on our group.

I even took a moment to wave at a nearby camera; whether it was my family, friends, or my enemies eagerly waiting my downfall, I wanted to make sure they remembered who I was.