Page 9

CHAPTER 8

J essica

“Why don’t you take off for the night?”

I glanced up from my screen to my boss, giving him a waning smile. “Just a few minutes longer.”

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. There were bags under them as there likely were under mine. But the reason for my condition wasn’t about working long hours as much as it was about the heightened level of anxiety and lack of sleep.

When I had fallen asleep, I’d seen the monster’s face. Well, his mask anyway. I’d woken up in a sweat the last three nights, never able to get back to sleep. Every dream had been sexual, every one darker and kinkier than the night before. I’d gone against my promise to Ashley, playing games until morning light in hopes of finding the sick fuck who’d crashed into my life.

While some of the players I’d encountered were dark and a bit odd, none had made overt gestures or asked any questions of a personal nature. The sexual games were not overtly perverted, but they did allude to acts of sin that normal people might find offensive.

And I craved them.

Even more frustrating was that I’d seen no indication the masked man from the forest had been online. Was he purposely hiding from me or intentionally keeping my anxiety high? I had no idea what to look for. Often the most depraved people were those who seemed perfectly normal by day but turned into monsters at night.

Or are you just losing it?

“You work too hard, Jessica. I appreciate the dedication, but there’s more to life than inventing the next award-winning game.”

“So my best friends keep telling me.”

“You should listen to them.” He laughed and we both heard a ping on his phone. By habit, he pulled it into his hands. With three small kids and a beautiful wife, he was the dedicated family man and someone I admired.

Which was also why I cringed every time I thought about sending in my resume to Blackwell. Yes, I had my reasons and ones I’d never divulge to anyone, but I already felt as if I was betraying Sam and his entire team.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked on the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Joel Merrick. He was found murdered in his house yesterday. He hadn’t shown up for work in a couple days, which wasn’t like him.”

“Oh, no. Do they have any idea what happened?”

He shook his head. “They’re not saying. I’m certain the police aren’t ready to divulge any clues. The guy was brilliant. A ruthless bastard and fairly unethical, but brilliant.”

I knew a thing or two about Joel Merrick. He was definitely unethical and a direct rival of several major gaming corporations, including Blackwell. Sam and his smaller company had yet to land on the man’s radar, but it was only a matter of time.

“Maybe a revenge kill.” My thoughts immediately drifted to Saturday night, a shiver finding its way all the way to my toes.

“It seems to be going around. Please take some time to yourself and don’t work too late. It’s getting dark.”

“It’s not like we’re in a bad part of town.” I’d been so consumed in what I was working on that I hadn’t paid any attention that the entire floor was vacant. How had I gotten so absorbed in my work?

I knew the answer. To drown out the nightmares that had turned into daymares.

“No, but you’re a single woman and there are some sick people out there.”

As I offered him a smile, I grabbed my purse and pulled out my can of mace. I wasn’t going to intentionally show him the pocketknife. Why hadn’t I tried to grab either the other night? “I never leave home without it.”

Sam chuckled. “Maybe not, but there are some bad men who couldn’t care less about a can of mace. Just go home.”

“Ten minutes. I promise.” Ten minutes until I went home to an empty house with a computer staring at me, taunting me to play yet another game. I was addicted, not to winning, but to the rush, just like the monster had mentioned. I adored the high provided by every kill, every point earned and reaching a sick level of sexual satisfaction that few could understand.

I’d heard Blackwell was getting ready to introduce a game that would blow everything out of the water. Darker than any before, more twisted in the choices. BDSM clubs, dungeons, kidnapping. Every reprehensible proclivity could be experienced in the privacy and protection of someone’s home.

Of course, they could just be rumors, but I was salivating over the thought.

“Okay. I’ll hold you to your word. Goodnight, Jessica.”

“Goodnight, Sam.” I listened to his footsteps on the cool tile floor as he headed for the elevator. He was right just like Ashley had been. I was way too focused on something that might consume me.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. As soon as I glanced at the screen, I realized how long it had been since I’d talked to my dad. We were both busy but it had been what, two months? “Hey, Dad. How are you?”

“Busy as obviously you are,” he said. As usual, his voice highlighted how much he’d been working. Just like always, around this time of year. I shifted my attention to the calendar on my computer.

Shit.

The anniversary of my sister’s death.

“I know. I’m sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been working long hours on some seriously sexy new games.”

“I wish you would get into another industry, Jess. You’re far too intelligent to spend time playing games.”

“I’m developing them, Dad. Is that why you really called, to continue the same argument we’ve had for years?”

“Honey, I worry about you. With the Blackwell Group in Chicago, eventually that son of a bitch will attempt to lure you to their company.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He never mentioned the man’s name. He hadn’t in all these years as if by doing so, he could erase the past. “I know you miss her, Dad. I miss Shanna and Mom too, but I’m living and enjoying my life.”

“I’m glad, but I worry about you. He’ll come for you. One day he will and I just don’t want you to end up like your sister.”

“Why would he come for me, Dad? He doesn’t know me.”

“Because I know him. He wants everything I had including my family.”

The words were stronger than he’d ever said before and a chill skittered down my spine. “I’ll be careful, Dad. Can we talk about this later? I was just about ready to leave the office.”

“Sure, honey. Just do me a favor and heed my warning. The man is the devil. I know. Trust me. I know.”

With the call ended, I stared at the screen. What did my father know and why wouldn’t he tell me?

I fiddled with what I was working on for a little while, finally checking my watch. Twenty minutes had gone by. It was time to go home. I grabbed my jacket and purse, immediately finding my keys before even leaving my desk.

It was one promise I’d made to myself after the… incident. I would always have my keys in my hand. The elevator seemed slower than normal in getting from the fifteenth floor to the lobby and my nerves were edgier than normal. By the time I headed into the lobby, I was holding my breath.

At least there were a few people leaving at the same time from other companies. The cool night air hit me, the tall parking lot lighting providing bright white light to almost every corner of the lot. Something else to be grateful for.

With at least six people heading to their vehicles, I didn’t run like some scared kitty cat. As soon as I opened the door, I took a deep breath, tossing my purse onto the passenger seat.

Then I heard a sound. No, it wasn’t a sound exactly. I had a series of sensations. My breath skipping, I lifted my head studying the small clump of trees and the road parallel to the lot. There were a few cars and trucks driving by, and a couple of shops across the street still open, including a restaurant I sometimes went to for lunch.

There were people out and about.

That wasn’t the feeling I had. He was here. I was positive of it, just like I’d been a few times in the past couple of days. He was watching me. Maybe the fucker was worried I’d go to the police.

I refused to be intimidated by a bastard who wouldn’t show his face. My attention was drawn to the clump of foliage, certain I noticed a slight glow shining from the thick trees. I wanted nothing more than to lift my middle finger, but I wasn’t that na?ve. Challenging a freak like him would only keep me in his line of sight.

Or worse.

I got into my car, taking several deep breaths before starting the engine. The sooner I was home and behind locked doors the better. I drove in silence, skipping turning on the radio, which I normally did. Every few seconds, I glanced into the rearview mirror, but couldn’t see any indication he was following me.

Yet I still felt him.

I could still sense his hunger.

Even after turning on the heat, I remained cold, shivering to the point my fingers were white while clutching the steering wheel. How had one person gained so much power over me in such a short period of time?

The thought disgusted me and I pressed down on the accelerator, exceeding the speed limit just enough I believed I could tell if I was being followed. Once I left the commercial neighborhood, there were fewer vehicles, none of which drew my attention.

The moment I turned down my street, I slowed, constantly checking every mirror. There was no one. Maybe it was just my imagination running away with me. I stopped in front of the mailbox, feeling shaky as I eased from the car, jogging around the front and grabbing the mail. With no garage, I suddenly felt more in the open than I’d ever experienced.

I parked, barely cutting the engine before yanking the keys from the ignition. Thankfully, my house keys were on the ring. The light was still on outside the door just like I’d left it. Within seconds, I was inside, trembling by the time I closed and locked the door.

The way I was reacting was ridiculous. Even my breathing was more labored than normal. I laughed softly before heading into the kitchen, dumping the mail and my purse, yanking off my jacket. After hanging it in the hall closet, I headed for my already opened bottle of wine, almost dropping the glass as I dragged it from the cabinet.

One sip wasn’t enough. I took three, taking the glass with me as I headed toward the bedroom, stopping long enough to turn on a light in the living room. Maybe I’d take the advice I’d been given and watch a comedy movie tonight instead of playing a single game.

Before I was able to make it past the opening to the living room, something caught my eye. I had a bookshelf filled with mostly books, one shelf holding three of my favorite photographs.

A lump formed in my throat as I took slow steps closer. Within inches of the shelf, another sick feeling pooled in my stomach. One of my frames had been turned upside down. After a brief hesitation, I closed the distance, lifting the picture of me standing with Ashley and Stephanie during a short summer trip we’d taken together.

With the frame in my hand, I turned around slowly, scanning the rest of the room. Nothing else seemed out of place. Was it possible since I’d dusted only a couple of days before I’d accidentally turned it over? Maybe.

Exhaling, I returned the photograph in the correct position, backing away as if the shelf was on fire. I wasn’t going to fall into some crazy moment. That wasn’t the kind of woman I was. Besides, there were locks on every door and window, the deadbolt on the front door incapable of being picked.

I headed into the bedroom to throw on a pair of sweatpants, gulping a sip of wine first before placing it on the dresser. The moment I opened my closet door, I froze.

The clothes hung on one side were exactly opposite of the way I kept them.

Fuck.

A wave of fear swept through me. He’d been in my house. My. House. The bastard had invaded my private space. How dare he. What did he want from me? What?

I turned around just like I’d done in the living room, fearful he’d done something to my bed. I moved closer, seeing nothing but after a few seconds, I yanked the covers. Seeing nothing, I breathed out, fighting the fear and replacing it with anger. The bastard wasn’t going to win. This was some kind of sick fucking game.

Hissing, I yanked a pair of sweatpants and a sweater from a shelf in the closet, tossing my heels on the floor inside and quickly changing. Now I was enraged he’d broken in. I knew better than to contact the police. The guy was too smart to leave any fingerprints. Plus, what little I had to go on would make me look like a crackpot. I wasn’t eager to have my good name sullied because I was panicking over nothing.

But I knew better.

The masked man wanted me on edge. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen. I returned to the kitchen, standing against the counter while I nursed my wine. Finally, I noticed the mail and tried my best to laugh it all off, yet I was formulating a plan. What? I didn’t know yet. Maybe I could lay a trap for him in one of the gaming rooms.

Which one remained the question.

I started tearing through the mail, thankful most of it was junk. But a black envelope not only grabbed my attention, I was instantly frozen. The writing was in gold metallic addressed to me personally. I carefully picked it up, turning it over to find an address on the back.

The Blackwell Group.

What the hell was this?

My fingers were no longer shaking as I opened the flap, pulling out a single card. “An invitation?”

I could swear my words echoed. After reading it again, I knew I was right. The card was an invitation to present my skills in various tiers of questions and contests. Was this about the company’s upper echelon of gamers or about the job I’d applied for?

My thoughts drifted to the possibility this was an invitation to the Obsidian Society. A bolt of excitement leveled in my stomach.

There were few details other than offering a link to a secure portion of their website where additional information would be provided.

A strange feeling of excitement was trying to shove aside the fear and anger. Maybe this was indeed all about my application. They’d certainly want to know if my skills were up to par and if I had to guess, I’d say they required a personality test. Or as I liked to call it, a sociopath measurement.

Was this something I really wanted to do? Was the hate so strong I could pretend to be someone else? I hated that my curiosity had gotten the better of me. But it had. I refilled my wine, taking the card with me as I headed to my laptop.

The link was directly off the company’s main website. I had to choose a password to go with the code provided. Once in, I was shown an introduction screen.

Welcome to the Blackwell Group. You have been chosen among a significant list of candidates to participate in a challenge with rewards including securing a position with us. If you accept the invitation, you will be asked a series of questions while also being provided with a nondisclosure agreement, which you must sign in advance. Once you do, you will be given twenty-four hours to complete the questionnaire. Your answers will help determine whether you’re the type of individual the Blackwell Group is looking for.

I sat back, trying to process the first paragraph. This could lead to the job I’d applied for. What a strange way to consider candidates. Maybe that’s why I’d been asked to send in a headshot. Weird, but maybe it worked for them. I continued reading.

If your answers allow you to qualify, you will be asked to come into the Blackwell headquarters at a specific time to test your skills on a new and very exciting game we will be releasing in the next few days. After that, based on your answers, you’ll experience virtual reality becoming a moment of real life. Your reaction will determine your final qualification to be employed by the Blackwell Group as an executive.

“An executive? What in the hell?”

I was excited, more so than I should be. I’d beefed up my resume as much as I could without lying, but to become an executive with the company would be a dream come true. There was one last paragraph. At least now I was jittery from excitement, although the masked boogeyman remained at large and something I’d need to deal with.

Not tonight.

After reading the last paragraph, I was positively giddy. There would be incredible extra perks if selected, including a company car, more vacation time, and what? A vacation home? Were these people for real? I’d heard they had great benefits, but a vacation home? No wonder they were considered one of the top twenty companies in the world to work for.

I sat back. Signing an NDA wasn’t an odd request, not with the proprietary software that took years to develop and was highly sought after. What could it hurt to sign it and fill out the questionnaire? I was certain it was all about finding the right psychological fit given the nature of a good percentage of the games.

I’d grown up playing their tame games, some highly educational and used by teachers all over the world. That’s where I’d truly developed the love of the gaming world. Much to my father’s chagrin.

There was one problem. I’d altered my name on my resume. I’d even created a fake email account as well. At some point, I’d need to come clean. Everything on the resume was all about me, Jessica, the girl who was simply just trying to forge a fantastic path toward the future.

But Sophie Turner was the girl who wanted revenge.

A part of me had never believed my resume would be good enough. Besides, I’d had a bad night thinking about my sister’s death before hitting send. Maybe I could pass the tests with flying colors and the little oversight wouldn’t matter to them.

Yeah, right. They’d toss me out.

However… What if it was a way to act on my need for revenge prior to being discovered? Hmm… I toyed with the idea for a few seconds before downloading the NDA. It appeared pretty standard, including never telling anyone about the games, the conversations, or anything else about the Blackwell Group.

The only line that troubled me a little was that if it was offered and I accepted the job, I could never mention any benefits or work activity to anyone for the rest of my life. Wow. That was a little heavy handed. They certainly believed in privacy. Could I tolerate that? I laughed and took another gulp of wine, reminding myself I wouldn’t get that far.

Thoughts and memories of my sister returned to my mind. She hadn’t deserved the treatment she’d received from the fucking bastard. This was my only chance of destroying him since he’d taken everything from her, leaving her hopeless with no ability to fight. Yes. I was going to do this.

I filled out the NDA, forced to print and sign. Once scanned and uploaded, I wasted no time hitting send. “Ha.” Within seconds, I was rewarded with another link. The questions. Holy crap. There had to be two hundred questions. Did they want my entire life story?

The first questions were typical. Did I consider myself a competitive person. Did I enjoying playing video games as a child. How did I feel I handled difficult situations. I’d need more wine to get through this drudgery.

After retrieving the bottle and refilling my glass, I was hopeful I could stay awake. The entire week, including the weekend, had left me achy and exhausted. That’s what happened when you were threatened with a knife and watched a man bleed out in front of you. I was more than a little macabre.

After question thirty, things turned a little weird. “What is my greatest fantasy?” Was that a serious question? My thoughts shifted to their reality games. It made sense they’d be asking. Their games were sensual, violent, kinky, and positively engaging.

I skipped over that one, curious where this was going. The further down I read, the creepier I felt. There was something very off about the line of questioning. They were asking some very dark questions about my sexual preferences, including what kink I preferred. If I enjoyed the thought of being kidnapped in a consent-non-consent play.

Whoa. This was very much like the game, but when hiding behind Desdemona, no one knew a thing about my real life. This was… invasive. How many people would read my answer? Then they’d actually know the secret cravings I’d had for years, things I would never consider doing in real life. But in fantasy? All bets were off.

Did they know people might lie? That happened all the time on questionnaires like this. People did their best to tell them what the prospective employer wanted to hear in hopes of getting hired. It was another hmmm moment. Is that what I should do? I wanted the job, of course, but seeking retaliation had been on and off my mind for years. I wasn’t a bad person, but the son of a bitch deserved to pay.

I wanted to witness his total failure after allowing everyone in his small circle of friends to know what he’d done to my sister.

Maybe tonight wasn’t the best option for making the decision. I was angry and scared, uncertain of both my future and if the masked man was going to kill me. No, what I needed was more wine and a good book. That might give me some clarity in the morning.

I moved away from my laptop, laughing bitterly while grabbing both the bottle and the glass. Maybe having a fuzzy head in the morning would bring everything into a better perspective.

Take that, masked man. And fuck you.

I turned on the light, determined to follow through with my plans, yet the questions continued to nag in my mind. I stopped inside the doorway. A wave of butterflies had invaded my tummy. With the warm glow of the screen reflecting off the white wall, I thought about the questions all over again.

Do you enjoy kinky acts within your sex life? I wouldn’t know since I’ve never tried any, at least in real life.

Would you enjoy being kidnapped and taken to a secluded location? I wouldn’t know since it’s never happened. Not in real life. Not in virtual reality.

But I wouldn’t mind trying.

Do you enjoy sexual gratification during asphyxiation? Only if I believed I would live.

How would you handle being sexually accosted in a funhouse, carnival, haunted woods, or mansion? I’d do everything I could to escape. But would I?

I had a twisted mind that should never be allowed from its cage. There was one thing I could no longer deny. What had happened on Saturday night had changed me forever. The masked man had awakened the dark side I’d been able to place behind locked doors in my mind. He’d brought it out in the open.

My heart was racing and I tilted my head over my shoulder enough I could see the screen. It beckoned to me, calling me out for all the ugliness furrowing inside. I stared at it for several seconds.

Then I walked away.