38. The Creators
Chapter 38
The Creators
The Game Warden
One Year – Four Months Ago
T he Game Warden rolled the piercing on his tongue, biting down on it as another player lost balance on the tightrope, falling to the pool of acid that was beneath them.
The screams echoed around the control room as their faces slowly morphed into something entirely unrecognizable.
“This game was a good idea for you lot, less clean up.” The Host rested in his leather chair in the center of the room.
The Game Warden couldn’t see his face, but he knew if he could, The Host’s eyes would be twinkling in delight and excitement. The man was a psychopath through and through. He got off on these games .
The Game Warden kept his attention on the screens that lined the room, watching as the Sponsors continued to make bets on the outcomes and who would win this round. He swallowed down the bile that had risen up his throat.
Watching men and women dissolved into acid was one of the more horrific sights he had witnessed; it was threatening to seep into his skin, his nerves. To force him to feel .
There was no time for that.
“Use a prerecorded message on this one, it looks like the winner is already decided. Player 33. The Sponsors will love that she has won.” The Host advised, getting to his feet. “I have other obligations to attend to.”
The Game Warden had only one moment of satisfaction that his chosen player was set to win before red warning lights blinked all around The Game Warden’s mind. This wasn’t normal. This was off-script.
The Host didn’t leave a game half finished. And while Player 33 was assumed to win, it wasn’t done yet. There was one more round to go.
The Game Warden’s eyes found Felix’s first, the latter inclined his head. He searched for Miko next, who flattened his lips.
That was the confirmation The Game Warden needed. The Host was up to something.
He waited until The Host had left the room before turning to The Guard now in charge of their space. He bowed his head in a mock show of respect. “I need to exit due to the possibility of a breach of rules; closer examination is required.”
“State your grievances,” The Guard replied.
“I am but a humble servant who requires proof before throwing accusations.”
The Guard laughed humorlessly. “Go ahead. One hour to return to your station or you will be eliminated. ”
The Game Warden stood up slowly before exiting the room.
He didn’t start sprinting until he was down the hallway, the camera pressing against his pocket as his feet carried him to his destination.
Please, she has to be safe. Don’t let me be too late.
Dread sunk into his feet, heavy weights as he found Sparrow’s room and saw her door open.
No!
He didn’t hesitate or pause, tugging the camera out of his pocket, he rushed into the space.
The Host was over her bed, a knife in his hands. “Children don’t belong here! Especially not girls.”
Blinded by rage and terror and every range of emotion that had ever touched his heart, The Game Warden didn’t think as he jumped across the space onto The Host.
The camera fell to the ground next to them as his body slammed the man into the ground. His hands secured the man’s wrists above them and the knife clattered across the floor.
“You?! Leave here and I won’t have you killed.” The Host’s face was turning red as he tried to shove The Game Warden off of him, but he was no match.
The Game Warden wouldn’t budge as he used all of his strength, his experience as a fighter, to hold The Host in place.
“Unkie Julie?” Sparrow’s terrified voice broke through The Game Warden’s unhinged rampage.
“Go Sparrow! Go find Felix, tell him to keep you safe.”
“But…” she sobbed.
The Game Warden didn’t turn his head, focusing on The Host below him. On how his face had turned ashen and white. He kept his focus as he reached for the knife he kept on his person .
“Uncle? She’s a natural child? Born from a mother?” The Host uttered, terrified.
For the first time since The Game Warden had met the man, he sounded contrite, nearly remorseful.
“Oh god, I didn’t know. Let me go, and I promise to never return.” The Host’s eyes turned into swirling masses of chaos. His pupils darted in nearly all directions. “Now. We need to leave, now !”
Confusion swept through The Game Warden.
Why does Sparrow’s birth matter?
The small taps of retreating feet allowed The Game Warden’s resolve to solidify. He loosened his grip on The Host. His mind was made up.
“Good man. Now we leave and never speak of this again. All will be alright. Who would believe a Violencia—” The Host gurgled around the knife that now impaled his throat. The Game Warden removed it, tossing it away and allowing the crimson to escape freely. For it to drain from The Host below him. Killing him quickly.
The Game Warden had a moment of satisfaction as The Host’s life drained from him, before Sparrow’s soft sniffle tore him away.
“Ju—Julie?”
The Game Warden jumped to his feet, twisting around to find that Sparrow had not left as he had thought. Instead, she was standing at the doorway, tears dripping down her face.
“It’s okay.” The Game Warden put his hands up placatingly.
But it was the wrong move, sticky blood coated his palms, specks of it had made its way across his clothes.
Even in all black it was noticeable. He was coated in his crime, forced to come to terms that he had just murdered a man in front of a small child.
“Sparrow, I need you to go get Felix. Please . Everything is okay now, I promise. ”
Stomping from down the hall drew The Game Warden’s attention. He wanted to run to Sparrow, to wrap her in his arms, and keep her safe. But he was frozen in place.
Slow clapping came from around the doorway.
“What have we here?” a deep baritone vibrated from the hallway. “What are you doing out here, child?”
Sparrow’s face went white as she backed into the room, all the way to the nearest corner. “I’m sorry.”
The Game Warden still couldn’t see who she was talking to until a moment later when a man and woman walked through the doorway. They were both masked. They were older and elegant with masks adorned in jewels and intricate designs. The decorations were different from those of us who needed to only hide our identities.
“What have we here?” The man raised a gun at The Game Warden. He cocked his head and dark grey hair fell over the mask. “You’re the one Ana told us about.”
Ana?
The Game Warden finally found the ability to speak. “The Host came to kill her.”
The woman next to the man scoffed haughtily. Her blonde hair fell around her mask and she swept some of it back. “Oh, dear, don’t you remember this boy from before? The fighter. John…no wait, Julian.” The woman walked brusquely into the room, heels clicking as she went. She eyed the corpse warily before stopping next to the man. Arms crossing over her chest. “I told you, we should have left him in the bottom level with the patrol guards.”
“Yes, honey, I remember him,” the man answered with a hearty laugh before continuing, “and I know. We were all surprised when he won. But the Sponsor is permitted to decide where they end up. And Ana did sponsor him after all.”
The woman cackled. “That little toy of yours. You better stop talking about her, unless you’re trying to make me jealous.”
The man lowered the gun, turning to the woman and wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will always be the woman by my side.”
The woman remained silent, but there was a fiery hatred in her eyes. This woman despised Nightingale.
In the corner against the wall, Sparrow continued to sob.
“But honey, please go get her a caretaker. I can’t be bothered with the crying,” the man groaned.
“I still don’t understand why we keep this child. We should just sell her off,” the woman grumbled, but walked to Sparrow nonetheless.
“You know exactly why. She’ll be worth more when she’s older.” The man turned his attention back to The Game Warden as the woman scooped Sparrow into her arms.
The Game Warden wanted to stop her. To scream and plead, but he held his tongue. This couple was different . There was a certain aura radiating from them both. They were important, and even more eerily, they were familiar.
Sparrow didn’t fight the woman, she simply allowed her to carry her out of the room. But The Game Warden watched Sparrow the entire way. How Sparrow knew this couple, but not in a good way. She was scared. Terrified into silence.
“You visit with Sparrow?” The Game Warden finally asked.
The man quirked his lips, deep wrinkles forming into a dimple. “I do. For a bit, I thought she might be mine. But it became clear over time that wasn’t the case. Even still, she is worth more than any other person in this place, including myself. I promise she will be kept safe. ”
“For now,” The Game Warden added for the man.
The man bellowed a laugh. “You aren’t as stupid as Ana made you out to be.” He cast a look behind him. “Now that the old ball and chain is gone, let’s discuss what this means. You killed our Host. Do you have evidence of what he was going to do?”
“On video.” The Game Warden jerked his head to the camera on the ground. He was no longer stuck in place, but he didn’t want to make any sudden moves.
“Good, that will make this easier.” The man moved towards The Host, nudging him with the tip of his loafers. “To be honest, I never did like him as a host. He wasn’t enthusiastic enough, didn’t listen to us. He was put in place by our predecessors.”
“Who are you?” The Game Warden couldn’t help himself. The curiosity was burning him from the inside out.
“We are called The Creators. It isn’t exactly right. We simply helped to begin Violencia’s games and took over when our predecessors met their untimely demise.”
The Game Warden was shocked that he had deemed to even answer his questions, let alone explain.
“The Creators?” The Game Warden’s fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.
“Yes, yes. Our predecessors were considering opening up games for Violencia, but they simply never had the resources. And then, unfortunately, when they did, they were blown up. Nearly four years ago now.”
The Game Warden’s brain vibrated with the dump of information that this man, this Creator was freely giving him. “They were at the Facility.”
The man turned his head, dark brown cloudy eyes meeting his own. “Not nearly as idiotic at all. Correct, they were at the Facility you grew up in, attempting to secure a deal. Now Mr. Julian, I have a proposition for you.”
The Game Warden’s pulse was erratic as he continued to remain still.
Is everything tied together?
“How do I know you?”
The man tutted, stepping back in front of him. “First thing’s first. Are you ready to take over the role of The Host? Will you see to it that the Sponsors are happy and amused? Will you exact the final judgment? Will you be the face of this reality show? Will you be the enforcer, the entertainer, The Host ?”
It was exactly as Nightingale had predicted. Every single step he had taken was to lead him here. It felt as if this would be what he needed to finally escape once and for all.
But what would be left of me? How do I become The Host? A sadistic psychopath that meets the players and beams in their faces before sentencing them to their deaths?
But what choice do I have? This is what Nightingale wants, which means eventually it will happen whether I agree or not.
“Yes.”
The man’s free hand came up, grasping The Game Warden’s shoulder reassuringly. It took everything in him not to flinch at the contact. At the familiarity.
The man tucked the gun away before using his other hand to raise the mask. “Good chap, and you might remember me. I do find that anonymity among coworkers only brings forth furthering distrust. Besides, we go way back. You were quite close to the boy we raised.”
The Game Warden shook as the mask lifted. As he understood exactly who the man before him was. Why he had seemed so very familiar.
“You can call me Harold, or if you would prefer, for old-time’s sake, Mr. Roger. And that earlier was my wife, Sharon.”
This can’t be real. How are they here? How are they the Creators?
Shock scraped inside The Game Warden’s gut. No wonder this man seemed so recognizable; he had lived next door to him through his entire childhood. He and his wife had used their adopted son for their own protection in the Facility. Sold the child out and forced him to fight in the pits.
It was how The Game Warden had grown so close to their adopted son.
To Jayce.