Page 8 of Sons of Hellfire (Hellfire Society #1)

eight

Cash

M y father is an asshole. He really fucking is.

All for the fact that he likes to lord his power over people like he’s some sort of fucking king.

He’s not. The asshole gets off on power even against his own son.

To him, he is making me stronger, showing me tough love; to me, it’s him being a dick and tasering me awake to tell me it’s time for the trials. Prick.

I quickly dress. Not bothering to shower since I took one before I laid down.

The one thing about me and the others who willingly join the games is that we are allowed to pick our own outfits and masks.

I decided to go with a simple pair of blue jeans, a little loose to be able to move in, my black sneakers, and a black hoodie to match.

I also went with a pair of red wraps for my knuckles since I’m more of an up-close-and-personal fighter.

To finish off my look, I secure my faceless mask over my face and pull up my hood.

The mask is all black, with no identifying features except eye holes to see out of.

When I step out of my room, ready to get this show on the road, my father is waiting.

A sadistic yet approving smile appears on his face.

Red flags start waving in my mind, warning me that smile leads to unpleasant things.

But before I can figure out what, someone wraps an arm around my head, tilting it.

My immediate reaction is to fight, but the sting of pain in my neck that comes next makes me realize there’s no use.

The last thing I hear is my father chuckling. “Night, night, son. Have fun.”

T he next time I wake, I’m being jostled by something moving beneath me.

A thump thump thump sounding at regular intervals beating in my ears.

God, I hate my father. My headache feels like I’ve been out drinking all night, but then I had to wake up after an hour's nap to go to work. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

We were supposed to be able to walk in, to be alert.

I knew the volunteers got drugged, but that was for theirs and everyone else’s safety.

To transport them and ensure they didn’t run or try to attack before the “grand show”.

Pushing myself up, I glance around. It appears to be a train car filled with people slumped over or, like me, just waking up.

I groan as I stretch my muscles. I’m sore, like they just threw me on the train like everyone else.

Assholes. I move to a sitting position, looking around for my brothers.

If they had to go through the same thing, they are going to be pissed, especially Riot.

The fuck might be crazy, but he is the definition of organized chaos.

Along with me and the others, there seems to be a few guards standing at the edges of the car watching us all.

Each clad in all black and each wearing an earpiece.

Knitted caps cover their faces as they watch as everyone wakes with frowns of confusion and panicked gazes bouncing around, trying to figure out what will happen next.

It’s a long while before anything happens.

The train car has a small light above, giving us minimal light to see.

Most of us have moved so our backs are against the walls, not trusting anyone anymore, even if the trials haven’t officially started yet.

As we wait to get where we are going, I take in all the masks and outfits around me.

I take stock of who looks like a possible threat and who is going to run and hide.

Knowing Arsen and Riot aren’t in here with me means this isn’t everyone who will be playing.

I spot a couple of big guys, but honestly, none of them are a big concern.

You know that saying–the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

A bit more time passes when I see the guards all nod to each other.

I tense my body in anticipation as one guard steps forward towards the locked side door, then without warning, he unlatches the lock and swings it open.

The train car was already a bit loud from the tracks underneath and the thin walls holding the even thinner roof up, but the moment the door opens, the wind swirls through, roaring a war cry.

A few people shift away, but I stay firm, waiting for them to make their move.

The guard who opened the door opens his mouth to yell.

“Either jump yourself or…” He trails off with a shrug before another guard grabs hold of one of the guys closest to the door and shoves him.

The guy stumbles forward, climbing to his feet.

He’s not the biggest guy in the room, but I’ve come to realize you should never underestimate someone’s si ze.

The guy is wearing a Jason mask with a tuxedo.

Odd choice, but I doubt he chose his outfit.

When the guy just stands there staring out the door, the guards get impatient, stepping forward and shoving him forward and out the door.

I crane my head to see where he went, but it’s no use.

“Next.” The guard yells. The train is still traveling at a steady pace but slow enough that jumping is a better option than being shoved.

One by one, the guards grab people, giving them half a second to decide before making the choice for them.

It’s 50/50 with jumpers. There are a few more people left when I stand to get in position.

I know jumping could still cause injury, but a few years ago, Riot got really into parkour.

He would drag us along when he wanted to try a new trick and taught a few things along the way.

Like how to jump into a body roll without causing damage.

I’m shoved from behind, my feet stumbling forward.

“Move.” I have to bite my tongue to not curse back.

I step forward, quickly calculating the jump in my head.

Then I do what Riot taught us. I take a running start.

It’s not much of one since the train car isn’t all that big, but I make do.

Right as my foot hits the edge, I shoot myself forward, throwing my momentum forward to ensure I don’t hit the train by accident.

Right as I hit midair, I tuck my top half down, the move curling my body into a C shape.

I make sure my head is tucked even more into my chest as I make contact with the hard dirt ground.

The impact hurts but not nearly as bad as it could have.

I roll through the jump, but with the motion of the train and the angle of my jump, the landing isn’t as perfect as I would have hoped for.

The moment I stop tumbling, I jump to my feet and take stock of myself.

A bit dirty, but otherwise fine. I’ll probably feel it later, but that is a future me problem.

Second, I survey my surroundings. There were roughly twenty or so people with me, but there was no telling how many other train cars were full.

It’s dark out, but the moon overhead gives me a bit of light.

I’m surrounded by dirt and flatland. The train is to my back and still rolling by.

It appears to be in a slight curved position, as I follow it with my eyes.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I knew it was time to play the Hellfire’s Society twisted game of survival.

Once I know I’m steady on my feet, I look for the others who jumped before me.

With it being so dark out, I can only manage to see shadows moving about.

We aren’t allowed weapons until we find them, so I have that to my advantage at the moment.

All the shadows seem to be moving in one direction, and as I turn in that direction, I spot even bigger dark objects. Buildings?

Not having any other options, I head in that direction. I keep my body coiled and ready to strike. If anyone were dumb enough to try to take me out hand to hand, well, they wouldn’t get very far. I keep my eyes open, searching for Riot or Arsen. Together, we are an unstoppable force.

It takes me a while to reach what I thought were buildings.

I was right, in a sense. Old, run-down, and ruined buildings and shelters litter the area.

Some were nothing more than a pile of wood and bricks.

I keep to the shadows once I hit the old town's boundaries. There’s no telling who could be around the corner and if they’ve already found weapons.

Skating the edges of some structures, I move along the outer edge of the town.

I start to mentally map out any good places to make possible camp, where others might hide, and where weapons and supplies could be stashed.

All the while keeping an eye out for my boys.

The town is a decent size but appears to be long abandoned, making it a perfect place for the trials.

When I finally hit the opposite end from where I entered, I hear the first scream of the night.

It rings out, echoing through the air. It’s a woman’s scream, not all too surprising.

The women who join the games tend not to last long.

Men see them as weaker prey who are usually easier to overpower.

Cries follow the sudden scream, begging and pleading for her life.

There’s a low chuckle before the night quiets again, but that is how the game is played.

The strong survive, while the weak perish.

I don’t hang around as I move on, needing to find the others.

Just as I’m rounding a corner, I stop in my tracks.

Coming face-first with a small bunny. I almost laugh at the little woman, just as stunned as I am.

She jumps back, raising her fists in the air as if ready to attack.

Slowly, I let my eyes drift over her. There is something familiar about her.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt if I don’t have to.

You go your way, and I’ll go mine. Yeah?

” Her voice is a sexual tenor, the sound going straight to my cock and making it twitch.

I tilt my head, studying her. She stares right back, not even flinching.

I grin under my mask. Not that she can see it.

If she could, I’m sure she would be stepping away from me.

“Look, don’t be the creepy guy who tries to intimidate me just because I’m a woman.

I bet I could take you down faster than most of the assholes playing this stupid fucking game.

” Fuck, I want her to keep talking. When I don’t move out of her way, she shakes her head, her long hair flying forward.

Pink tips. This is that feral girl Riot, and now Arsen, haven’t shut up about.

Arsen called us last night, telling us about his interaction with her.

I’m pretty sure he only did it to get a rise out of Riot, but now I’m thinking he was on to something.

Slowly, I raise my hands, showing her I’m not a threat.

At least not at the moment. I open my mouth to tell her so when, out of nowhere, someone flashes out of the shadows and tackles the woman.

Ali. That’s what Arsen called her. I watch in fascination as the shadow and she go tumbling.

I think about intervening, but that’s not my style.

Plus, I want to see how feral this woman really is.

I step closer, watching as the scene unfolds.

The shadow, a small, thin man if I had to guess, wearing a clown outfit, manages to roll on top of Ali.

His hands coming up around her neck. I take another step forward, about to step in, a strange urge of possession suddenly coursing through my veins, but to my utter shock, Ali lifts her butt, sending the guy falling forward.

As he tosses himself back to gain his position again, Ali swings her legs up and over the dumb fuck’s head.

She uses her legs to shove the clown guy back, his body landing in the dirt before Ali wastes no time, jumps on top of him, and starts pounding her fists into every inch of his body she can manage to reach. She strikes hard and fast.

The sight is beautiful, something to behold. I’m so turned on right now, my dick feels like it might explode. Arsen joked that once I met her, I would be a goner, too. I thought he was joking, trying to get a rise out of me as well. But the bastard wasn’t wrong.

She doesn’t stop her assault until the clown is covered in blood and unmoving.

Her chest rapidly rising and falling as she sucks in air, staring down at her handiwork.

Being the asshole I am, but also wanting her attention back on me, I start to slow clap.

Yeah, I’m an asshole. Her head immediately jerks in my direction, just realizing I’m a mere few feet away, and if my cock pressing against my jeans is anything to go by, enjoying the show.

“I see this cat has claws. Don’t you, Ali Cat?” I watch her eyes widen at my words. I wanted her to know I knew who she was. Even if all I knew was her name. Slowly, she removes herself from the now dead fucker lying in the dirt. Her hands still curled into fists, breathing still ragged.

Her eyes slit into a harsh glare, and I’ve never wished I had light to see those eyes before, like I do now.

Even to see her body, which is obviously banging.

I might have to thank the asshole who chose her outfit and then kill him because now I know everyone she crosses paths with will get to see her like this.

I can see artwork lining most of her body, and I wish to inspect every inch of them, preferably with my tongue.

“Look, I’m not even supposed to be here.

So, I’m going to go that way, and you’re going to…

” She shrugs, looking around. “I don’t know.

Fuck off or something. Sound good?” She takes a step back and then another.

Every cell in my body is telling me to give chase, to not let her run away from me. It’s crazy.

Is this what Riot feels about the woman? Is this the start of an obsession?

I keep my mouth shut as she continues to walk back slowly, eyes staying trained on me like she knows I’m a threat.

Good girl. Smart little Ali Cat. Knowing she can fend for herself for a little longer, I wait until she bolts into the shadows before turning and getting back to my search to try to find the other two.

Once we are together, we can come up with a plan, and then we hunt.