33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
Victoria
I stumble as Jasper guides me forward, his hand firm yet eerily gentle against my back. The blindfold pressed tightly against my eyes, throwing me into complete darkness. Each step feels heavier than the last, the air around me becoming thick and oppressive. I can hear the faint echo of our footsteps against what sounded like wood floors. The silence between us is deafening, broken only by the occasional scrape of my shoes or the creak of a distant door. It’s easy to feel the shift in temperature as we keep on walking, the way the air grew colder and the floor beneath my feet transitioned from smooth to rough, uneven ground.
“Keep moving, little bird,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement and a hint of something darker. “You’ve still got so much to show us.”
“So much to prove, you mean,” I mutter under my breath but kept moving in the direction he’s guiding me. I try not to flinch when I almost trip over a small rock.
Jasper leans closer as he steadied me before we kept on our way, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Prove? No, sweetheart,” he drawls. “This isn’t about proving anything anymore. It’s about transformation.”
His words twist in my gut like a knife. ‘Transformation’ . The very idea makes me cringe It feels as though we're walking forever when finally, we come to a stop. The air’s heavy with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, faint but unmistakable.
I hear muffled voices now—low and indistinct, but undeniably familiar. My heart raced as I recognized the tones of Elijah and Marcus among them. There was another voice too, one I didn't recognize, deeper and more authoritative than the others.
"We're here," Jasper announces, his hand moving to grip my shoulder firmly. "Are you ready for your grand finale, little bird?"
Before I’m able to respond, I feel the blindfold being untied. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the light again. I see multiple people on their knees, men, mouths gagged, blindfolded, and feet tied. I glance at who else is around, I can see Owen, Elijah and Marcus…as well as three others, Gabrial and even Viktor. I narrow my eyes at the number of people around but stay silent as Jasper pushes me forward, motioning me to keep walking. I did so until Jasper’s hand falls to my waist stopping me about ten feet away from the kneeling men.
I keep silent as Viktor’s the one to step up and speak. He gives me a smile, “Welcome, Tori. You’ve exceeded my expectations. This is the last test before everything is to be decided.”
He motions to the three men before me, “These men are going to have a chance to fight for their life…. they can kill you to be able to leave…or you can kill them being able to live.” I feel my body almost collapse in on itself at his words, an almost small whine leaving my lips.
Elijah steps forward with a small smirk on his face, as I see Jasper move to stand with the others, “You get a few minutes to run but once we release them you either fight or you may die.” He leans down, voice going soft, “I don’t want to have to make my grandfather mad if you aren’t able to kill.” He then pushes something into my hand, the hold material making me glance down.
He handed me a knife. My eyes snap up, wide and not believing they would give me a weapon, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll use this against you instead?”
Elijah laughs as he shakes his head, “No. You know better than that…don’t you Darling.” It’s a statement and he’s right. I’m not that stupid to use the knife on him. I’m outnumbered for one…and he would easily overpower me in a second.
“Now. Go.” He gives a wicked grin, as I stumble over my own two feet to go into the trees surrounding us.
The forest swallows me quickly, the sound of my frantic footsteps muted by the dense carpet of pine needles beneath me. My breathing coming in short, jagged gasps as I grip the knife Elijah pressed into my hand. My mind is racing, battling the suffocating weight of panic and the grim reality of what lies ahead. They had set this up perfectly—three broken men, desperate for their freedom, and me, a cornered animal forced to choose between murder and death.
They wanted me to kill. To become one of them.
I push on forward anyway, adrenaline coursing through me like fire as I dart between the trees. Sharp branches claw at my arms and legs, but I barely register the pain. The wind whistles in my ears, carrying with it the faint sound of laughter behind me—Jasper’s mocking tone, Elijah’s smooth drawl mingling with Marcus’s calculating amusement. They were enjoying this. Watching me stumble and flail, knowing I have no real way out of this nightmare.
“Fuck.” I mutter as my breath comes out in short breaths, my fingers gripping the knife tightly, the cold steel digging into my palm as though it’ll anchor me to reality. The forest is dense, shadows weaving through the trunks like restless phantoms. Every instinct screams at me to run, and yet I hesitate, the weight of their words pressing down on me.
“This is so fucking stupid and unfair” I growl, my anger starting to set in. Elijah basically said he would make sure I pass this test no matter what. He’d intervene. Pushing myself forward to keep going, my heart thunders in my chest, drowning out the rustling leaves and snapping twigs beneath my feet. The knife feels foreign and heavy in my hand, its weight a chilling reminder of what lies ahead. They hadn’t even released the men yet, but I could already feel their unseen eyes on me, their desperate breaths echoing somewhere far behind.
How long had it been? A minute? Two? Not nearly enough time, but I couldn’t stop moving. Every instinct is screaming at me to keep running, keep searching for some shred of safety that doesn’t exist—not here.
I skid to a halt by a towering oak tree, its gnarled roots twisting out of the earth like skeletal hands. Pressing myself against the rough bark, I tried to slow my breathing, tried to think. But there was no strategy here, no careful plan that would save me from what I had to do.
Could I even do it? Could I kill someone to save myself? I wasn’t sure and what’s worse is the thought of losing what little humanity I have left or the idea of those men catching me first. The weight of the knife in my hand reminds me with every step that survival requires more than just running. It requires blood.
My fingers tremble as I grip the knife tighter, the jagged edge of the blade catching faint glimmers of moonlight through the dense canopy of trees. I can't shake Elijah's words, his cold drawl echoing in my mind: ‘ Fight, or you die.’ My breath hitches as distant footsteps break through the silence, branches snapping under hurried weight.
They released the men.
The air turned heavier, each inhale filling my lungs with damp earth and pine while fear coiled tighter around my chest. Somewhere, a man screams—a guttural roar of rage and desperation trailing too close for comfort. My heart pounding in response, each beat throbbing in rhythm with the dull ache of dread in my stomach. The forest feels alive now, pulsing with something primal and brutal. It’s no longer just trees and shadows; it’s another predator waiting to consume me.
You must survive.
I crouch lower against the oak, squeezing my eyes shut. My ears strain for any sound that might betray their approach: heavy breathing, snapping twigs, the pounding of footsteps closing in. But all I can hear is the relentless thundering of my own heartbeat, drowning out everything else.
“Think,” I mutter under my breath, opening my eyes, trying to focus through the haze of dread clouding my mind. “You can figure this out. You can—”
My desperate whispers were cut short by the sudden snap of a twig nearby. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I press myself harder against the tree trunk. The forest has gone eerily silent, as if holding its breath along with me. Then I hear it - the ragged breathing of someone trying to move quietly and failing. They were close. Too close. I grip the knife tighter, every instinct screaming at me to run. I know that’d only draw attention. I have to stay still; had to hope they would pass me by.
A shadow moves between the trees, barely visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the leaves. I catch a glimpse of a man, his clothes torn and dirty, moving with the desperate energy of prey turned predator. He hadn't seen me yet, but it’s only a matter of time.
I shift, trying to get in a better position, but that is what gives my position away. His head snaps to me, and his eyes wild and desperate as he scans the area around me. Now that he’s closer, I can make out more details. He’s older, maybe in his 40s, with graying hair and a weathered face. His clothes are torn and dirty, evidence of his own struggle through the woods. When his gaze lands on me, I see the flicker of recognition, followed quickly by a surge of feral determination.
“Nothing personal…but I want to leave alive.” The man tells me stepping closer, his voice a lot more gravely than I had expected it to be.
"Please," I whisper, even as I grip the knife tighter. "We don't have to do this." But there’s no reasoning with the desperation I see in his eyes. He lunges forward with a guttural cry, hands outstretched to grab me.
Instinct takes over causing me to duck under his grasp, pivoting on my heel. The knife feels alive in my hand as I swing it in a wild arc. I feel the sickening resistance as the blade connects to the side of his neck, going all the way through with a sickening sound. On instinct I remove the knife and know that’s a bad idea the instant I see blood.
The man's eyes widen in shock as blood spurts from the wound, spraying across my face and chest. He stumbles backward, hands clawing at his throat as he tries desperately to stem the flow. A horrible gurgling sound escapes his lips.
I stare in horror at what I’ve done, the knife slipping from my blood-slicked fingers only to land with a dull thud on the forest floor. The man's eyes lock onto mine, filling with pain and accusation as the life drains from him.
My stomach heaves violently and I barely manage to turn away before vomiting. Tears stream down my face, mixing with the blood splatter across my skin. I’ve killed someone. Taken a life with my own hands. "Oh god," I choke out, bile rising in my throat. The burn makes tears well up in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
But the man can't hear my apologies. He collapsed to his knees, blood bubbling from his mouth as he gasps for air. His eyes locked onto mine, filled with pain and accusation, before the light fades from them entirely. He slumps forward, face-down in the dirt, and goes still.
I stumble back, my legs giving out as I hit the trunk of a tree and slid down to the ground. My hands shake as I look at the blood pooling around the man. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, making my stomach churn again.
‘I had just killed a man.’
The reality of what I've done crashes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me gasping for air. My hands shake uncontrollably as I stare at the man’s body. Sitting here trembling, unable to tear my eyes away from the body lying motionless before me. The reality of what I'd done crashes over me in waves, each one threatening to pull me under. I’ve taken a life. The knife lay on the ground beside me, its blade glinting dully in the moonlight, now stained crimson.
A rustling in the underbrush snaps me back to the present. There are still two more men out there, desperate and dangerous. And the brothers... they’re watching and waiting to see if I’ll embrace the darkness they represent or crumble beneath its weight. With shaking hands, I reach for the knife. My fingers close around the handle, slick with blood - his blood. My blood. I can't tell the difference anymore.
"I'm sorry," I whisper again to the lifeless body, though the words feel hollow and meaningless. "I didn’t want this.” I didn’t…I didn’t want to kill. I wanted to go home and forget all about this. I know that wasn’t and isn’t an option though…. everything’s out of my control and I hate it.
With one last look at the body, I push off the tree and break into another sprint, weaving between the dense trees. The forest floor is uneven and treacherous, every step threatening to send me sprawling into the dirt. Branches snag at my clothes, thorns slicing at my exposed skin. Blood welling in shallow cuts along my forearms and ankles, but there’s no stopping. Not now.
The man I’d killed hadn’t hesitated on attacking me….and the other two would probably be the same. And if they didn’t succeed… Elijah’s words echo darkly in my mind. He’s going to make sure I survive no matter what, even if he has to help me…. but that doesn’t mean I can't get hurt in the long run…or that he might not make it in time. I don't know if he’d intervene, not intervene or if he’s just messing with my head.
I’ve already killed once...they want me to be like them at the end of this. A murderer….and they’ve succeeded with that already. They’ve already won…. but I still have to survive two more men coming after me with the intent to kill me. I've got to survive two more men….and that means I’d have to kill two more times. Could I... would I make it? I’m not sure…but I don’t want to die either. I stop running and lean against a tree as I take a few deep breaths, the forest is silent and eerie. And the dread in my stomach comes rushing back.
I feel as though I’m being watched but I’m not exactly sure by who.