Page 4

Lux

O utside the manor was somehow worse than being trapped within its walls.

The crows above cawed as the men led me through a seemingly endless sea of evergreen trees, two in front of me, two in the back.

While they’re all granted the luxury of shoes, I’m left barefoot.

Fresh mud squelches between my toes and I shiver as the five of us come upon a dilapidated courtyard.

The cobblestone ground is rough and cracked, thorns and vines poke through the gaps in the stone and I bite to my lip to suppress a pained noise as I step on something sharp.

“Be careful, Little Light, a trail of blood will make it easier to find you,” Bone man snarled behind me.

My head snapped back, and I shot him a glare. I knew he was tall, but he towered over me, casting a shadow in my direction as what remained of the sunshine rapidly waned. His nostrils flared, but I couldn’t see his face.

So, to push my luck, I stuck my tongue out at him. Their goal was to kill me, which meant I wasn’t here to make friends.

Survive until morning.

Get my money.

Forget this ever happened.

And if I didn’t do it–well, I wouldn’t have to worry about rent anymore. So that was a plus.

Bone man huffed out a breath before plucking me off the ground and throwing me over his shoulder, knocking the wind from me. The world spun as he got me settled, and I involuntarily thrashed against him.

“Put me down!” I screamed, fighting the urge to remind him the game hadn’t started yet.

“Too slow. Quit fighting. If I drop you your head will split open like a watermelon.”

My stomach twisted at the imagery of my blood and gray matter spattered across the autumn hellscape. And, while I didn’t want to be carried, I also didn’t want that , so I allowed myself to slump across his shoulders like a rag doll.

My face hit the leather of Bone man’s armor, and it dug into my skin.

The musk of man flooded my nostrils. It wasn’t bad, but I’d definitely forgotten what someone could smell like when they didn’t use deodorant.

Plus, for the first time, I had a reminder that these four could be human, and that somehow made this worse.

I lifted my head slightly only to be brought to eye level with the crying man, who once again, was proving he was very alive, even if he didn't talk. He shook his head slowly and then clasps his hands as if deep in prayer.

At first, I feared the clown the most. But, there was something about the quiet man trailing behind us that unnerved me in ways the others hadn’t. I exhaled and closed my eyes, determined to somewhat enjoy the last moments before my possible execution.

The journey didn’t take long, and once we stopped moving, Bone man planted me firmly on the ground.

My eyes snapped open just in time for his hands to rest on my shoulders as if he were steadying me, trying to make sure I wouldn’t fall.

The act was oddly gentle, seeing as I was about five minutes away from being hunted for sport.

He stepped back and left me to look around. Breathing in the chilly air, I surveyed my surroundings. Red Lace Manor loomed in the background, but just barely. The porch light illuminated it like a haven, but I knew for a fact, I wasn’t going to set foot in that house again.

Wind whistled through the trees as I turned around to see a crumbling mausoleum. Was that where they stored the women who lost the game? Or was it just decorative? My lips pulled into a grimace, and I decided it was best to not think about that.

“Why does the game have to start here?” I asked, not really caring which man answered.

“Oh, the game doesn’t start here, Little Light.” The clown tossed a black canvas bag in my direction.

It fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and Reaper immediately turned to him.

“There is a loaded gun in that.” Disapproval dripped from his words.

The clown shrugged. “What’s gonna happen? She dies ?”

My eyes rolled as I bent down to pick up the bag. It was weighty, but it shouldn’t be impossible to carry. With that in mind, I tossed it over my shoulder and made a mental note to get to a safe place and rifle through it later.

“As my comrade was saying, the game doesn’t begin here,” Reaper continued. “We all have areas we like to tether ourselves to, this just gives you the best chance to run. You’ll get a ten-minute head start, but you’ll soon realize that isn’t long when your life's on the line.”

I wrapped my fingers around the strap as I cast a lingering look around the circle of masked men. Fog slowly creeped toward the area, obscuring what little daylight we had left and shrouding the area in a milky gray.

“So, when do I start?” I looked around at the trees, wondering if they’d be watching me hide. If so, that’d be a waste of time.

“Patience, Little Light,” Reaper coached, stepping closer as he did. “I need you to close your eyes.”

I stared at him.

“Trust me,” he pleaded.

“We’re about to play a game where your goal is to kill me.”

Bone man stepped forward, patting Reaper so firmly on the back that he nearly fell over. “Yeah, but Seth is a pussy, he doesn’t—”

Reaper elbowed Bone man in the stomach, causing him to double over as all the wind exited his lungs.

Seth.

One name down, three to go.

“Point is… If we’re already going to slaughter you like the pig you are, what do you have to lose?” the clown taunted.

My gaze narrowed, and I waited for Seth to hit him too. But, he didn’t, and against my better judgment, I listened.

Without my sight, I relied on my hearing to tell me if I was in danger. The snapping of twigs filled the air. Warm breath and the scent of cinnamon cascaded over my face, and just as I prepared to open my eyes, a set of lips met mine.

They were soft, and the kisses feather light. It was as if he was testing to see if I’d push him away, or maybe even run. I assumed this was Seth. A gloved hand met my cheek, and before I could decide if I wanted to bite or melt into him, he pulled away .

Calloused fingers dug into my chin, pulling me the other way.

My eyes remained sealed shut and the man’s tongue swiped across my mouth before his teeth, sharp and animalistic, met my lip.

This had to be Bone man. His kisses differed from Seth’s, rough and hungry, as if he was trying to claim me before anyone else had the chance.

When he pulled away, I barely had time to catch my breath before a laugh floated through the air. A hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back. The urge to yelp in pain was there, but before I could a set of chapped lips crashed into mine. With each kiss, I could feel his wicked grin widen.

When he was finally done with me, I was dizzy and out of breath. I assumed the clown would be the last one, as the crying man had yet to appear at all interested in the game. But, once more warm breath collided with my skin.

This time, it smelled like wintergreen.

My lips were safe from another faceless kiss, because the last man pressed his lips to my forehead. The slightest hint of stubble tickled my skin before he pulled away.

“Keep your eyes closed, Little Light,” Seth crooned, his voice sounding farther away than expected. “Count to one hundred, and then the ten minutes will begin.”

A sudden tremble infested my limbs, and at first I listened, using my pounding heart as a metronome for each count. But, once I got to forty five, a thought dawned, how would they know? It was in my best interest to look, that way I could know if they were watching me.

Slowly, I cracked one eye, and the other followed soon after.

Despite their gargantuan figures, the men were so far away that they almost looked small.

I couldn’t distinguish any exact features, but for the first time, I saw more than leather and bone.

Their masks all hung at their sides as they walked toward the house.

My head cocked as I studied them, trying to place their outfits to the maskless man underneath. Seth was easy, his well-tailored black coat was ingrained in my mind from this morning.

His hair was short and the curly kind of unkempt that made you wonder if he’d brushed it today. The wind played with the inky strands just enough for him to reach up and smooth them down.

Next, I focused on the Jester. Long auburn hair fell down his back in almost ornamental braids. It was almost far too pretty for a man who kissed like the devil and seemed to take pride in the idea of killing me .

Bone man was easy to find too, he was the largest, and that made him hard to miss. It was hard to see in the dying light, but I was fairly certain his hair was mousy brown, short on the sides, wild on top.

That meant the man with long silver strands had to be the crying man. Even as he walked with his partners in crime, his head appeared slightly bowed, like the weight of what was about to happen physically dragged him down.

This was yet another reminder, those four were human . They could bleed just as I did. They could die just as I could. The only difference is they were skilled killers and larger than I was. I might make it. Others had. I could do this.

The wind shifted, and once again the crows cawed as the moon shifted high in the sky. It didn’t feel like a normal moonrise, instead it reminded me of a machine on loop, and the entire world seemed to change as it bathed me in its celestial glow.

I’d stopped counting the second I opened my eyes, but it felt like I’d waited long enough.

My body moved on instinct, and I started into a full sprint.

Rocks and twigs dug into my bare feet, but the fresh dose of adrenaline in my system made the pain bearable.

The red velvet of my robe flowed behind me as I darted through the trees, looking for anything that felt safe .

But, when the world felt like it was ripped directly out of a German fairytale, that was impossible.

My legs started to ache, and my lungs burned.

That’s when an idea dawned. Any moment, one of the men could appear and chase me, and if I couldn’t bolt at a moment's notice, I could be as good as dead.

My feet slipped along the stodgy mud, pulling me forward despite my best efforts to stop.

Luckily, I caught myself on a nearby tree branch.

I swallowed a heavy mouth of spit as I gasped in fresh air.

I couldn’t run without tiring myself out, and I couldn’t fight until I knew what I had in my bag.

I looked up at the tree as I thought, and that’s when an idea dawned.

I could buy myself a couple hours by hiding, and the men likely wouldn’t look in the trees.

There were too many of them, and that would take forever .

With that in mind, I reached for the highest branch I could grasp and started pulling myself up.

The action wasn’t as graceful or effortless as I’d envisioned it.

To be honest, I’d never climbed a tree and always assumed it would be easy.

But, despite my best efforts, I barely scrambled up the trunk.

The bark dug into my feet, and the branches caught on my robe and nearly pulled me back to earth more times than I cared to admit.

Somehow, I made it what felt like three stories off the ground.

That seemed safe enough, so I settled onto a sturdy-looking branch and let the pine needles shroud me from the outside world. I pulled the canvas bag off my back and planted it on my lap, yanking the zipper open as I did.

In the bare light of the moon, it was hard to make everything out; I squinted and resigned myself to pulling out my supplies one by one.

My fingers first met the metal of a handgun.

I shifted it around, letting the light catch on the silver.

It was the old type of revolver, the one with a spinning barrel that cowboys used.

After a moment of fiddling, I opened it.

As promised, a single bullet rested in the chamber.

I made a mental note to reserve it for emergencies only .

Slipping the gun back in, I rifled through the rest of the contents.

A knife, a bottle of water I didn’t trust, a small first aid kit, and a length of rope.

The wind picked up, causing me to nearly drop the bag and fall in the process.

For a beat I considered tying myself to the branch, then I realized I’d potentially trap myself if I did that.

So, I re-steadied myself and grabbed the last item from the bag.

A tri-fold paper map. The paper felt thin, like the kind you’d find in a bible. I opened it, determined to look for a better place to hide.

And then the fucking wind ruined everything.

A gust blew through, turning the map into a makeshift kite. I tried to grab it out of the air, but I was limited on what I could do without killing myself.

“ Son of a bitch .” I growled as I watched the paper float away in the rough direction of the manor.

I heaved out an irritated sigh, softly banging the back of my head against the tree trunk. Whatever, it was just a map. If I was going to survive, I’d do it regardless.