Page 3

I suppressed the world's most pathetic , desperate, whimper.

It was probably some fucked up sign that I needed therapy, or even maybe locked up in some sort of fucking mental institution.

Having Reaper know so much about me should have been terrifying, and it was, but something in the knowledge that someone had been paying so much attention to me felt good .

In a weird, maybe kind of concerning way.

Like I was the love interest in one of those stalker romance novels my friend liked to gush about.

So, while I should have probably thrown myself out the window and called the cops, I complied with my captor's demands. Did he smile as I followed? Or, was he more the stoic type? Probably the latter.

The hall was just as cold and poorly lit as the bedroom, and the walls were lined with old paintings. The kind with the eyes that followed you. I tried not to look at them directly, as they were fucking creepy to say the least. But, I could almost feel them watching me.

Instead, I focused on Reaper as I trailed behind him like a ghost. The hem of my robe whispered across the floor as we descended the spiral staircase.

“Hold the railing, Little Light , I wouldn’t want to see you fall,” he commanded, while not holding the fucking railing.

“... Are you talking to me?” Maybe there were others in this house. Perhaps the ghosts that obviously haunted the fucking paintings, and maybe he was somewhat protective over them.

Reaper didn’t laugh, but I could feel the amusement in his silence.

“Of course, you’re the only light in this place.” He spoke as if this was as plain as day.

Begrudgingly, I gripped the railing. Not because I wanted to listen to what was likely a serial killer, but because the idea of tumbling down the seemingly endless steps without at least getting some answers seemed like a shitty way to go.

The wood was smooth, not even a hint of a splinter, which made the situation even more surreal.

Eventually, we came upon a set of metal doors.

The front was decorated in thorns–not roses–and there wasn’t a handle in sight.

This didn’t stop Reaper though. He approached the door and raised a hand before rhythmically knocking six times.

At the last beat, the metal seemed to move on its own.

I jumped as warm light spilled out from the room.

I squinted and shielded my eyes, not realizing how dark the rest of our trek had been until now.

Once my eyes adjusted, Reaper motioned for me to enter, and I did.

In the center of the room was an impossibly long dining table. There was no cloth, allowing the brilliantly shined wood to be on full display. High-backed chairs draped in black velvet flanked the table, and the flickering glow from the candelabras caused the silverware to gleam.

A sick feeling pooled in my stomach as I noticed the three men at the table.

None of them looked at me–or maybe they did–the masks made it almost impossible to tell.

The biggest one wore antlers. And not like the cute kind that went with slutty deer costumes.

Real bleached ones that likely belonged to an animal far larger than I cared to see.

The rest of the mask was bone. Some of it had likely worn away from use, leaving it jagged in some spots.

The man’s mouth was completely exposed, and I studied his stubbled jaw.

He had a scar running across his top lip.

Across from him sat someone in a Jester’s get up, complete with hat and bells and collar. His mask was painted like a black and white clown, and for some reason, I thought he was scarier than the bone man.

And, at the far end sat someone draped in black robes.

The sheer mass of their clothing made it impossible to tell if they were man or woman, and their mask did little to solve the mystery.

It was made of white porcelain and had absolutely no discerning features other than the golden tears streaming down its cheeks.

My saliva thickened, and I froze. It felt as though I’d walked in on something I had no business being a part of.

“Sit.” Reaper glided to the table, pulling out the empty seat beside Bone man.

My chest shuddered, and my body moved without the permission of my brain. My heart smacked against my ribs with the force of a sledgehammer at a construction zone, and I silently prayed they couldn’t hear it.

I sat stiffly, and Reaper pushed me in before occupying the empty seat on my other side. Thankfully, he placed himself between me and the clown.

“Gentleman,” Reaper started, reaching into the bounty in the middle of the table and retrieving a bottle of wine. “This is Lux. She is our guest for the evening.”

Reaper uncorked the bottle before pouring the thick red liquid in his glass, and then in mine. It seemed thicker than most wines, and that made me trust it less than I should, which was impressive, considering the situation.

Bone man grunted in acknowledgement as he grabbed a crusty roll and block of cheese from the feast. The clown tipped his head, leaving the bells decorating his hat to jingle, and the third one… Actually, I wasn’t even sure if they were breathing.

My voice had vanished, leaving me to stare in abject horror as the men slowly turned to face me, as if they were lions and I was a tasty-looking zebra.

“ Guest is an interesting choice.” An almost unhinged laugh flitted through the clown's words, and I cringed at the sound. “I prefer toy . Something for us to play with and discard once it breaks .”

Reaper passed me a glass of wine, and I didn’t touch it.

He sighed, the lenses of his mask fogging up as he did.

“Until she agrees to the game, she is nothing more than a guest.” He sounded almost exhausted by this description.

Despite his mouth being covered, Reaper lifted his glass, rolling the stem between his fingers.

“Nobody ever turns down the game.” Bone man’s voice was deep and raspy, decorated with the same unplaceable accent as Reaper.

Something in the low timbre snapped me to my senses.

“What game ?” Exasperation crept into my tone.

Reaper froze for a beat before placing his glass back on the table. Even the soft clink of the crystal hitting the wood made me jump.

Bone man grunted before popping the rest of the bread in his mouth, completely ignoring me, and the thing at the end of the table still did nothing. It was the clown that spared me the mercy of knowledge.

He leaned forward, planting both elbows on the table and lacing his gloved fingers. His bells jingled with the slightest movement, even a deep breath caused them to echo through the chamber.

“The game ,” he practically sang the word, “is the reason you’re here. We don’t invite pretty little things here every day, you know.”

Pretty little things ?

I stared at my distorted reflection in the wine glass, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been referred to as pretty. And, though I knew this was a terrible time, butterflies joined the fear pooling low in my gut.

“You’ll have until sunset to prepare,” he continued, “then, all you have to do is survive until sunrise. And then BAM, you’re ten million dollars richer! No debt, no worrying, no more struggling for the rest of your life.”

My breathing slowed, and the second half of his sentence was so appealing that I almost disregarded the word survive . Once that registered, my eyes widened and I choked on my breath.

“S-survive? Like not die ?” As far as I knew, there wasn’t another definition for that word, so asking that outloud made me feel a little silly, to say the least.

A cackle of maniacal laughter left the Jester, and he nearly doubled over. Bone man joined him, and I wondered what the fuck was so funny. Still no reaction from the creep in the corner.

“Exactly that ,” Reaper confirmed.

“Survive what ?” I asked, unsure if I wanted the answer.

“ Us .”

That singular word sucked all the air out of the room, leaving me to blink at him, slow and stupid.

“I… You’re going to kill me?”

“Kill is such an ugly word,” the Jester added. “Plus… there’s more than killing .”

“This is a hunt ,” Bone man growled. “We don’t just want to kill you, we want to devour you whole, sweetheart.”

His teeth seemed impossibly sharp, like they belonged on a shark rather than a man. My twisted, horny thoughts immediately went to them on my neck. Realistically, he’d probably murder me if he got that close… but if he didn’t?

“All of us will be hunting you. It’s what we were designed to do–think of it as a game of hide and seek.” Reaper sounded completely calm. “You can run, fight, or hide, and we will arm you with a knife, a torch, and a gun with exactly one bullet.”

“... Why?”

This whole situation seemed like it was ripped out of a bad dream, and it made nearly as much sense as one. The more I tried to rationalize everything, the less successful I was.

“The moon needs blood. And we need a bride ,” Bone man declared, licking his lips as he looked at me.

“The cycle can only end when we find a woman who takes us, as is.” confirmed the clown.

“Can’t you all download a dating app or something?” The cynical sentiment slipped from my lips, and laughter erupted from the three men near me.

The person in the corner moved slightly, confirming they were alive, but no sound came from them.

“This one has some fight in her,” commended Bone man.

“Your spunk will serve you well.” Reaper shifted in his seat. “But that leaves one question. Will you join our game? Or will you run back to a life determined to chew you up and spit you out like the piece of meat the world wants you to be.”

“You’ll end up dying anyway, sweetheart. At least this way you do it on your terms.” Bone man’s words were gravelly and dragged across my skin with just as much force.

My jaw clenched–it wasn’t fair how good their speech was.

And, what was worse, was the fact that they were both right.

The world hadn’t done me any favors. There had been no handouts to save me from starving, or life lines to pull me from drowning.

Here, I had a choice, even if it was a fucked up one.

“Have there ever been any winners?” My question came from a point of caution. I didn’t think of myself as one to do the impossible.

“A few. They all take the money and leave, their lives get better, and they forget the world that lives within these walls.” Reaper tapped his fingers on the edge of his wine glass.

“You’re all insane.” I started to play with the belt on my robe, hoping to hide my nerves.

“Not the first time we’ve heard that!” The clown cackled, smacking the table as he did.

I flinched at the sound.

“If it helps, we won’t try to kill you at first, and some of us won’t attempt to kill you at all .” Reaper reached forward, brushing my hair back behind my ear.

“What happens then?” Heat rushed to my cheeks, following the tingling his leather touch implanted on my skin.

“We fuck you like the animals we are,” Bone man rasped.

Something in his feral honesty caused something dark to curl low in my belly. My thighs clenched at the idea, and I made a mental note to find a therapist. Obviously, I needed one, and once this night was over, I’d be able to afford it.

“Fine. I’ll play.”