Chapter 26
twenty-six
-Brynn-
My blood freezes. My eyes, blinking rapidly like I’m trying to process what I’m seeing.
This can’t be fucking real.
Everything is too familiar here, too terrifying, like it’s not even happening to me.
But one thing I know for sure—we’re all here because of me. A last twisted opportunity for fate to make fun of me. Ares has chosen this place to save me from my monsters. And I chose it to kill the only monster who could save me from my past.
I try to process what’s going on, but my emotions are battling to break free while I’m doing my best to keep them at bay. I can’t afford a meltdown—not now. Not when I’m finally in the game.
The guards line us up and take us inside to the day room. I recognize it from my past. As I look around me, I realize not much has changed.
There’s a nervous twitch in my fingers, and I don’t know how I find the strength I need to stop shaking.
The white plastered walls haven’t been painted since I was here.
The tiles are worn down from years of metal chairs scraping across them.
The smell of medicine and sanitizer is still thick in the air.
For the first time, I’m beginning to think I can’t do this.
It’s all too close. Too personal. Like a dark claw from my past, reaching up to grab me and drag me under until I suffocate.
I’m living my worst nightmare, and at this point, no one except me can help me wake up from it. And I can’t give up. Not now. So, I’ll do my best and man up.
My head turns so I can scan the room and size up the competition.
There are fifty of us, evenly split between men and women, different nationalities, all shapes and sizes. A couple of the men are probably easily pushing six-five.
They’ll just fall harder.
I tell myself, trying to man up.
I take a deep breath, still assessing my opponents, when static crackles from the three TVs, normally used to keep patients distracted.
Welcome to a special edition of KHARON—the ultimate game of survival.
As you know from the instructions you’ve been given, this is an extreme competition where the last one standing walks away with fifty million.
The voice cuts off as a low buzz vibrates through the room. Everyone seems so ecstatic with the sum that they seem to have forgotten the part mentioning the last one standing. I know fifty million is a lot of money, but no amount is worth getting killed over.
By agreeing to take the pill, you signed away your right to opt out.
From this moment on, backing out is no longer an option. Anyone who tries to abandon the game before it ends will be executed.
The goal of the game is simple: be the last ONE standing.
Everyone will be given a smart bracelet that tracks how many participants are still alive. The game ends when the countdown is down to one. Every player you kill earns you an extra five hundred thousand dollars.
Additionally, there are the Observers. Anyone wearing white is an observer, and you’re not allowed to harm them in any way. Injuring an Observer results in immediate execution.
Next are the five Valiants.
You’ll recognize them by the red uniforms. They’ll remain in the game until they choose to withdraw. Each one wearing a number from one to five.
When a Valiant steps out, their number will be announced through the auxilium stations across the auxilium and displayed on your bracelets.
Attacking a Valiant after their withdrawal will result in instant death.
This year’s special edition includes bonus prizes for ending the Rats.
There’s a brief pause, and the camera cuts to another room, where a group of approximately forty men and women dressed in purple form a large circle. Each one has a guard stationed behind him. And I recognize every single one of them.
The camera starts spinning, and the voice continues the introduction.
As you can see, the Rats will be wearing purple. Each one of the Rats, as well as the players has a bounty on their head of five hundred thousand dollars. Multiply that with the sum of possible targets, ninety-four, and the bonus is beyond your wildest dream.
A sudden murmur ripples through the people standing in the circle. A scared expression on each one of their faces. I want that scared expression to be there. I want them to fucking burn—each one of them.
Each individual kill adds to your grand prize. The more you kill, the bigger your payout. IF you live.
The camera keeps circling the Rats, lingering on their faces.
Every single one of them, an employee of this sanatorium.
Every single one of them wronged me either through cruelty or total indifference to what they let happen to us.
And from what I can tell, only two people are missing.
The beast who abused me, and the woman who helped me escape.
This isn’t a coincidence. The same way, this place isn’t a coincidence.
My mind starts spinning, with just one thought—this is all for me.
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve loved hunting down every single one of these monsters. But right now, I have a different goal.
The final participant in this game is… The Hunter.
The announcer stops for a moment, as the image cuts to someone new, starting at his boots and panning slowly up his godlike body.
I’d recognize that posture anywhere. Ares.
Ares is the Hunter.
Black armor starts at his legs, covering his entire body. Jagged and brutal, just like the man wearing it. An image that sparks fear into every single person around me. I can see their eyes growing wide as every new muscle is revealed. And the fear reflected in them is unmistakable.
He wears that armor like it’s his second skin, and I’ve never seen him like this. This complete. This lethal.
But I know the real danger isn’t in the iron he wears around him, or in his weapons.
He is the real danger. The real weapon.
As the name suggests, he’ll hunt you down. You can attempt to kill him. He will definitely attempt to kill you. But the Hunter can’t win the grand prize. If the Hunter is still alive, alongside one contestant, that contestant will be declared the winner, and the game ends.
The image finally reaches his face, his dark eyes glinting with something devious while a solid black steel mask covers the lower part of his face.
The damn thing is slightly worn at the edges, like it has seen war.
The sharp lines follow the strong curve of his jaw, giving him a permanent scowl, making him look like a weapon instead of a man.
There are no excuses in this game. No turning back, and definitely no mercy.
Each one of you will be escorted to a separate room, where you will receive your weapons, and from where you can start the game when the signal sounds. The Rats will have a five-minute head start and can use any weapon taken from the contestants to defend themselves.
The guards will also wear white, like the observers, but with the logo SECURITY printed across their uniforms. You are not to interfere with them or harm them in any way. The penalty for any of these actions is immediate execution.
May the best ONE of you survive.
As soon as the announcement ends, a guard grabs my arm and leads me out of the room, and down the corridor until we almost reach its end.
From what I can tell, I’m in the Nurse’s Office.
I wait for a few minutes before another guard brings me my sword and the bracelet they mentioned.
My heart is pounding. My fucking brain is pounding, like I’m trapped in one of those Lara Croft video games.
Except, this is real, and it’s starting to feel more like the Squid Game’s, where players have to kill each other to survive.
But these aren’t random people lured in by the power of the mighty dollar.
They’re killers, abusers, monsters. Which also means, most of them are trained to fight.
Since I need to take advantage of every opportunity, I start digging through every drawer and cabinet, grabbing a bandage, some morphine, and a B52 shot, as the nurses used to call it.
It’s a cocktail of Benadryl, Haloperidol, and Lorazepam.
Sounds complicated, but I’ve picked up a few things while being here.
This shit could put a horse down, and they use it on patients in full-blown crisis.
I’m still going from the cabinets when the alarm blares.
The game has begun, and before I know it, screams are starting to echo through the hallway. But I didn’t come here to play. My purpose is entirely different. I don’t care about the money. I only care about beating Ares at his own game. And I will succeed—no matter what that means in the end.
But I’m also playing this smart, and I can’t afford to get myself injured before I get to him. If I were to walk out of the room, I’d probably face more than one opponent. And my goal isn’t for money. It’s survival, for now.
I’m not afraid of facing any of the men in here today. But there’s a chance they’ve grouped together to hunt, or that I’ll get jumped by one contender while fighting another. There are no rules when it comes to this, so I don’t expect anyone to play fair or wait their turn.
The cabinet near the door looks heavy enough to help me barricade it. I do just that, slowly pushing it against the floor, careful not to make too much noise and draw attention. I just hope they’ll figure it’s just a locked door and move along for now, as long as they have other targets.
The roars and cries are getting louder. People are screaming and begging while laughter can be heard in the background.
Some of them actually find it funny that they’re taking someone’s life for money.
But I don’t have time to feel sorry for them, and none of the people in this game are worth my pity.
They should be in prison or dead by now, so as far as I’m concerned, Ares is doing the world a favor.
But he messed up. And I can’t allow that to go unpunished.
Suddenly, someone tries the door. I jolt, fingers gripping the hilt of my sword. But I’m not scared. Truth be told, the only thing that scares me right now is not completing my mission.
There are more voices down the hall, and the handle stops rattling.
I give it a few more minutes, and everything grows quiet. The stillness is almost surreal, but I know I’ll have to start moving eventually.
****
I open the door and slip into the lobby. My eyes scan the space, and I can see cameras everywhere. The bracelet won’t stop vibrating with kill after kill. There are already only thirty-eight of the players left.
I pass three bodies on the floor. All women. Though I don’t stop. I keep moving, looking for Ares.
There’s no point in searching inside the rooms because he wouldn’t be hiding. This place has three floors, and over twenty-five patient rooms per level, plus storage closets, med offices, and different utility rooms. That leaves a fucking lot of ground to cover.
There’s an elevator they use to transport patients with disabilities and supplies, but it’s too loud.
The main stairs might be guarded, as well.
Still, I know about the fire escape. One of the few perks of spending time locked up here.
And from what I can see, the signs pointing to it are gone, just like most of the guidance signs in this place.
The emergency stairwell door should be at the end of the hallway, next to the medical supply units. And that’s exactly where I’m headed.
I pass a guy dressed in white, and do my best to ignore him, despite those gawking eyes, like he’s a damn ghost watching us from the outside. He looks more casual than the contestants, like he could be a bookkeeper or something. But definitely not an active player in these games.
I’m five or six doors away when I hear voices behind me.
I have to hide. Now.
I’m next to the patients' quarters, so I take the first room on the right as quickly as I can, but as soon as I step inside, I realize I’ve made a mistake. There’s a faint rustle somewhere to my left, and before I get to realize it, a nightlamp comes flying at my head.
I duck just in time, the lamp smashing into the wall behind me. But before I can regain my bearings, a purple shadow is moving towards me. One of the Rats.
Even though I don’t usually find pleasure in taking a life, I’m going to enjoy killing this man.
Especially since he’s all too familiar to me.
He was Elias's nurse. More like, his worst nightmare. And I can barely believe that I got this lucky break, because now it’s time he paid for what he’s done.
He sprints straight toward me, a hunting knife in his hand, which means he’s already taken out one of the players.
And I’d love to play around—show him what true suffering means—but I haven’t forgotten about the voices in the hallway that now turned into hurried footsteps, approaching faster and faster.
I let him get close enough, and when I consider he’s at the right distance, I crouch low, knocking his knife aside. I sweep his legs and send him crashing onto his back. The blow stuns him just long enough for me to get back up on my feet and stomp on his hand, which holds the knife.
I’d love to carve him up and leave him for dead, but I must be ready for whoever was attracted by the noise we made. I take my sword and drive it straight through his heart.
My bracelet instantly lights up: 500K. More money than I ever dreamed of. And yet, right now, it means nothing.
The door flies open behind me, and two men burst in, both wearing black.
The first of them is at least two heads taller than me, dark blue eyes and a beard that makes him look like a fucking Viking.
A very, very dangerous one, judging by the evil gleam in his eyes and the axe he’s holding in one hand.
The other is bald, a little shorter, but still significantly taller than me. The same maleficent, disturbing look, matching in his eyes as well, and a blade in his hand.
I’m their mark, and I know it. I can see them look at me, considering I’m some vulnerable prey.
I let the tip of my sword slide on the floor, the sharp screech heightening my senses.
Just one of us will walk out of this room alive. And it’s going to be me.