24. Carey
Carey
The next day arrived with a chill in the air, anticipation and sorrow hanging like a shroud over our group. I couldn’t bring myself to eat or speak to anyone at breakfast. I just stared at April’s chair, wishing she would walk in and sit down.
“Y’know, if one more of us dies, we’re officially down to half our original number,” Hudson said through a mouthful of buttered toast, addressing no one in particular. He swallowed and went on. “Crazy, huh?”
“What’s really crazy is you thinking it’s a good idea to bring that up over breakfast, asshole,” Jasmine said, narrowing her puffy red eyes. “Honestly, I hope you’re the next one to go. None of us will have to mourn then.”
As much as I couldn’t stand Jasmine’s bitchiness most of the time, I had to admit, I got a twisted little thrill from her burning Hudson like that.
He sneered. “You know, you should be careful what you say. You never know when you might need my help.”
“Oh, like the way you helped Rhys?” Maverick cut in, cocking his head. “I think we’ll all pass on that offer.”
Hudson turned his stony face to Maverick. “Y’know, I’m just about done with your bullshit, man. You think you run this fucking joint. Always ordering us around and speaking for everyone. But look how this shit’s turned out under your so-called leadership. Five of us are dead in the space of four days, and we’re still no closer to figuring out who this fucking Game Master is. So maybe it’s time we go in another direction. Without you. By force, if necessary.”
“Ah. More threats. Love it.” Maverick’s lips curled in a mirthless smile. “I guess we’ll just have to see how things play out, won’t we?”
“Yeah,” Hudson said, nodding slowly. “I guess we will.”
Their clash was interrupted by a text from the Game Master.
Morning, everyone! Today’s game was my favorite to design, so I’m really looking forward to watching you participate. Please make your way to Gaming Room 7 in ten minutes. The entrance is on the far side of Gaming Room 6.
My throat ached with despair as the seven of us headed down the hall to the room where we were forced to watch April die eighteen hours ago. Her body had been removed and most of the blood had been mopped up, but there were still a few dark red smears on the chessboard that the Game Master’s cleaner had missed. My stomach lurched at the sight, and I abruptly turned my head away, unable to bear it.
“Shit, I didn’t even notice this yesterday,” Zach said from the far end of the chessboard. He was peering into a dark, cavernous entryway beyond a wooden door that was swinging ever-so-slightly on its hinges, as if the Game Master had entered mere seconds ago.
“Me neither,” Jasmine replied, hugging her arms around herself. “I guess we were all too focused on the game. Plus there’s hardly any light in here.”
“How about you stop yapping and get the fuck in there?” Hudson snapped. “The Game Master said it starts in ten minutes, and that was ages ago.”
I hated Hudson, but he was right. We had to enter the next gaming room before it was too late.
The dark passage beyond the door led into a small, dim room, with only a few black and red candles casting feeble pools of light across the space from a low wooden table. Another door stood on the left side of the room, slightly ajar. More darkness lay beyond it.
Seven black and silver collars were laid out in a row beside the flickering candles. They looked like the collars from the Tag game, minus the string. Each one also had a small red button on the front.
The Game Master’s ominous voice rang out over the nearest speaker. “Welcome to Seven Minutes in Hell, players! Please take the next few minutes to equip your collars.”
Dread coiled in my stomach as I unhinged one of the collars, placed it around my neck, and closed it at the back. I helped Courteney with hers, because her hands were shaking so much, and then I turned my attention to Maverick. He was watching me from the other side of the room. When his intense gaze met mine, he dipped his chin in a tiny nod, instantly conveying his unspoken words. You’ll get through this. I’ll make sure of it.
The Game Master piped up again. “This game might seem easy at first, because it doesn’t require any strategy or logic. In fact, it doesn’t even require the slightest bit of intelligence. I suppose it’s more of an experience than a game, really, and it requires one thing only: resilience. You’ll enter the playing space via the door on the left when the timer starts, and then you’ll make your way through to the end. As there are seven of you, I’m giving you forty-nine minutes to do this. You’ll be faced with horrors at every turn, along with your worst fears. All you have to do is keep going until you reach the end. If things get too scary for you to handle, you can tap out by pressing the red button. Have fun, and good luck!”
The message ended with a loud beep, presumably to announce the beginning of the countdown timer. Maverick headed over to the door and pushed it open, revealing the yawning darkness ahead. “Let’s go,” he said. “This game should be fine as long as we all keep our heads.”
A familiar twisting sensation appeared in my stomach as we slowly stepped into a narrow passage. The walls were rough stone, damp with condensation. Dim torches flickered sporadically along the corridor, casting long shadows that danced ominously across the uneven floor.
“What the fuck is this place?” Jasmine muttered as we tentatively made our way along the twisting path. “Is this really meant to be scary?”
“I guess it’s kind of spooky,” Brooke replied, peering up at one of the flaming torches. “It looks like a tunnel from a horror movie.”
As we wandered deeper into the passage, the air grew thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sickly-sweet stench of decay. Strange symbols and sigils were etched into the stone, conjuring up mental images of cackling witches and secret society rituals lost to time and obscurity.
We came across an alcove carved into the wall, containing a gruesome tableau. A bloated corpse with blistered pink skin hung from a chain, head hanging downward.
“Fuck, this almost looks real,” Hudson said, reaching forward to lift the chin and expose the face. He leapt back with horror when he realized his mistake. “Oh, shit!”
It was Rhys’s body.
I clamped my hand over my mouth and looked away, stomach roiling with horror. Courteney lurched forward and vomited on the floor, filling the narrow passage with the acrid scent of half-digested toast and eggs.
“Let’s keep going,” Maverick said, turning away. “Just try not to look at any of the stuff, okay?”
The passage twisted and turned, leading us deeper into the darkness. Shadows danced and writhed along the walls, as if they were alive and watching our movements with malevolent intent.
We entered a new room a few minutes later. It was like a twisted nightmare come to life. Animal skulls littered the floor, black eye sockets staring accusingly into the abyss, and the walls were spattered with blood. But the true horror lay above us, on a glass ceiling illuminated by a flickering fluorescent light.
Evan’s face, frozen in eternal shock, stared down at us. His body had been stripped and splayed on top of the glass, surrounded by a thick layer of dirt, dead leaves, and stones. Some blood had leaked from the top of his head onto his face, making it look like he was crying bloody tears.
Jasmine and Courteney screamed and staggered backward at the sight.
“Don’t look,” Maverick commanded. “Just keep your eyes on the path ahead.”
We left the room and pressed on, making our way through room after room of fresh horrors. Pits filled with writhing snakes, floors crawling with insects, walls covered in screens that showed horrifying videos of torture and suffering. Each space seemed to outdo the last in its grotesque display of horror; a relentless onslaught on our senses.
All we could do was keep going and try not to look, as Maverick told us earlier.
I stepped into another dim, twisting passage, heart pounding and breath held tight. Whispered curses and screams echoed through the space, along with the voices of our fallen friends, begging for help. It truly felt like we’d stepped down into Hell itself.
“Please!” Kiara shouted from somewhere on our right. “Save me!”
“It’s burning!” Rhys’s disembodied voice chimed in. “Help me!”
“Get me out of here! It hurts so much!” April cried from the left.
A painful lump appeared in my throat as her words registered in my mind. Earlier, I’d wanted nothing more than to hear her voice again, but not like this.
“It’s not real,” Maverick said from up ahead, hands clenching at his sides. “It’s deep-fake tech. You can take a video that someone’s put online and use the program to simulate their voice to say anything you want.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but a scream tore from my throat instead. Kiara’s corpse had just dropped into the passage directly in front of me, swinging from a knotted brown rope.
“Is that real enough for you?” the Game Master boomed from a nearby speaker. The question was followed by hollow laughter that sent a chill down my spine.
Maverick turned, grabbed my hand, and pulled me around the swinging body. Jasmine was in tears, and Brooke’s face had turned a deathly shade of white. Even Hudson looked disturbed.
“C’mon,” Zach muttered, taking Courteney’s trembling hand. “Let’s go.”
“No.” Courteney refused to budge. “I can’t see or hear any more of this shit. I need a break. Please.”
“We’re on a time limit, Court,” Zach said. “Otherwise we’d all say yes to a break, believe me.”
“Please.” Her voice had dropped to a broken whisper. “If I see one more body…”
“You won’t. I’ll cover your eyes if you want. Okay?”
“Yeah, we can guide you,” Maverick added. “But we’ve already been down here for at least thirty minutes, and we have no idea how many more rooms we have to go through until we reach the end. So we have to keep going.”
Courteney grudgingly nodded and stepped forward, waving Zach’s hands away from her face with an indecipherable mutter.
The next room was lit by candlelight, casting eerie shadows that danced over peeling wallpaper adorned with faded floral patterns. The awful sounds from the previous passage had faded away, leaving us in an ominous silence that made me shiver with anticipation. But it was the dolls that truly sent a chill down my spine. They lined every surface, porcelain faces frozen in grotesque smiles and lifeless eyes staring vacantly ahead. Some sat on chairs or shelves, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, while others lay scattered on the floor. The flickering light and shadows from the candles made it seem as if some were moving, hands reaching out to grasp at our ankles.
“Oh, fuck,” Hudson croaked, one hand pressed to his chest. “I hate dolls.”
“Oh my god, this is what scares you?” Jasmine said, planting her hands on her hips. “Dolls?”
“Fuck you. I’m getting out of here.” He sucked in a deep breath and fled into the passage leading out of the room.
“I guess this room was designed to scare him,” Brooke said, glancing around. “It’s not that bad unless you have a doll phobia.”
“Yeah. Except…” Zach pointed a shaky finger at a large doll on a rocking chair in the corner. “What’s that?”
The doll’s right arm had been removed and replaced with what appeared to be a bare human forearm, sewn onto the dress with rough black stitching.
Courteney keeled over and vomited again. Jasmine stepped closer, upper lip curling with disgust. “It’s either April or Tate’s arm,” she muttered. “I don’t know, though. It’s too bloated to properly tell.”
Acid rose in my throat as horror ricocheted through me.
“I think it’s Tate,” Zach said softly, taking a step closer. “April had her nails painted pink.”
“We need to keep moving. We’re running out of time,” Maverick said. “So let’s—”
He was cut off by a masculine shout from the passage ahead. “Fuck! Help!”
We dashed out of the room and headed toward Hudson’s voice. He was standing in a large space surrounded by screens playing black and white videos of ghosts and zombies. At first, I thought that was what had scared him, but then I saw the huge black spiders crawling all over the floor and walls. Some were dropping from webs above us, dangling right above our heads, and one had just landed on Hudson’s shoulder.
“Get this shit off me!” he shouted.
Zach stepped forward and brushed it off, sending it skittering away. “Coward,” he muttered. He turned back to return to Courteney’s side, and his eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Court!”
Courteney had dropped to the floor behind us and curled into a ball. “I can’t do this. Can’t do this,” she said between short, sharp gasps. “Get me out of here. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.”
“Oh my god, I forgot she has a full-on arachnophobia thing,” Jasmine said, hands on her hips. “Remember that camp we went on in sixth grade? She freaked the fuck out then too. Honestly, I don’t get it. They’re basically just big bugs.”
“Not helpful, Jasmine,” Zach said sharply as he crouched by Courteney’s side. He brushed several spiders away and rubbed her back. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think they’re venomous. Try to breathe deeply.”
She did as he said, sucking down several deep breaths. “I hate this,” she croaked. “I hate it so much. I can’t handle it anymore. Really. I can’t.”
“Just a few more minutes, okay? We should almost be at the end by now.”
Courteney took another deep breath and nodded. Then she finally opened her eyes. At that exact second, an enormous spider dropped down from directly above her head, landing right on her face. She let out a gut-wrenching scream and clutched at her throat.
“No!” Zach shouted, trying to tear her hand away. But it was too late. The tap-out button on her collar had begun to flash.
My heart sank as the collar immediately began to tighten around her neck. It didn’t slowly choke her, though, like Tate’s collar in the Tag game. There must have been a thin wire embedded in the material that was released when the button was pressed, because blood started seeping around the edges of the collar within a matter of seconds.
“Why the fuck did she press the button?” Jasmine shrieked. “They’re just spiders!”
Courteney writhed on the floor, clutching at her bleeding throat. “I… I didn’t,” she choked out. “Didn’t even touch it. I swear, I didn’t…”
She was unable to get any more words out. Her head lolled backward, hitting the floor with a thud, and her eyes fluttered shut.
“No!” Zach roared, tearing at the collar as blood spilled over his hands. “No!”
“Player three eliminated,” the Game Master’s voice boomed out over Zach’s anguished cries. “Remaining time: eight minutes and forty-seven seconds.”
“Oh my god.” Brooke’s hand flew to her mouth. “I can’t believe she actually tapped out.”
I narrowed my eyes. “She said she didn’t.”
“She must’ve accidentally pressed the button when she grabbed her throat,” Maverick said. “Fuck, what a horrible way to go.”
I kept staring at Courteney’s lifeless body as Zach sobbed over her. The metallic scent of her blood was lingering in the air, making nausea rise in my throat. “She said she didn’t touch the button,” I said in a low voice, head slowly shaking. “Accidentally or not.”
“Maybe she just didn’t realize she touched it,” Maverick replied.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I muttered. “Or maybe I was right the other day.”
Brooke’s gaze snapped to mine. “About some of the games being rigged against us?”
“Yeah. Maybe we only play so the Game Master can watch us suffer. Not because there’s actually any chance of survival.”
“We can’t think like that,” Maverick said gruffly. “We have to believe there’s a way out of this place.”
He stepped past several skittering spiders and knelt to place a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Sorry, man. We have to go. Only eight minutes left.”
Zach refused to move, so Maverick hauled him to his feet and dragged him away from Courteney’s body. He shouted and struggled the whole way, but I didn’t intervene. It was for the best.
The next room was a cramped space with red lighting, like a photographer’s dark room. The floor was littered with bullets, and a black rifle sat in a glass display case on one of the walls. The walls were lined with photos of April. Some were taken from a distance, showing her lifeless body splayed on the enormous chessboard, while others were closeups of her abdomen, gray sweatshirt lifted to reveal a gaping gunshot wound. As awful as the wound was to look at, the worst photo was a closeup of her face, pale with blue lips and dried blood that had trickled down from one corner of her mouth.
“You were all too late. You could’ve helped me. It’s your fault I’m gone,” her voice said over a tinny speaker. “All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.”
I set my jaw and clamped my hands over my ears to drown out the awful chant. Maverick squeezed my shoulder. “Remember, it’s not real. Just deep-fake bullshit,” he murmured. “It wasn’t your fault she died.”
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and nodded. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, voice quavering as I spotted April’s torn, bloodied sweatshirt crumpled on the floor beside another array of bullets.
The final few rooms were similar to the first ones—shadowy spaces filled with bones, skulls, teeth, and blood, accompanied by creepy whispers and the occasional bloodcurdling scream.
I steeled my jaw and tried my best to ignore the gore around me, along with the sharp pains in my chest that had appeared after seeing all the awful reminders of Evan, Tate, Rhys, Kiara, and April’s demises. Finally, we reached a door with the words ‘THE END’ daubed on it in dark red paint.
“Congratulations!” the Game Master’s voice boomed out. “You made it with four minutes to spare, and only one of you lost your head, so to speak.”
“Fuck you!” Zach screamed, shaking his fist at the speaker. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Please proceed to the drawing room for morning tea. There are no more games until tomorrow, so you can relax for the rest of the day. The arrows on the floor beyond this door will guide you back to the main hall,” the Game Master droned on. “Thanks for playing!”
“I’m so fucking sick of hearing that shit,” Jasmine muttered as we stepped through the exit. “As if we’re choosing to play.”
For once, I agreed with her.
We headed back to the drawing room in somber silence. Courteney’s death was weighing heavily on our shoulders. Half of the original players were dead now, and the rest of us had no idea what lay in store for us beyond more games, more torment, and more terror.
We had to do something to figure out the truth behind this place, but how? Maverick and I had already tried to explore every available space the other night, and we hadn’t turned up a single clue about the Game Master’s identity, let alone any possible means of escape.
I lost myself in my thoughts as I sat in the drawing room, reflecting on my time in this awful place. The games. The messages. The perpetual fear. The seeming lack of motive. By the time my tea had gone cold, I’d realized that something was bothering me about the Seven Minutes in Hell game. However, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It seemed to be gnawing at the very edges of my brain, and every time I tried to grasp the thought, it slipped away.
“Does anyone else think there was something weird about that last game?” I asked, looking up at the others.
“Like what?” Jasmine asked, wrinkling her nose.
“I don’t know. I just keep getting this weird feeling about it. Like… something wasn’t right.”
“It’s because it wasn’t really a game,” Zach said in a ragged murmur. “It was an experience, like the Game Master said at the start.”
I frowned. He was right, but that wasn’t the thing that was bothering me. If I could just figure out what it was, then this annoying itch in my brain would go away.
Once the Game Master announced via text that the drawing room was closing for cleaning, I spent several hours talking to Maverick, Brooke, Zach, and surprisingly, Jasmine. We sat in Maverick’s room and shared every thought we had over our situation and every suspicion we’d ever had over the Game Master’s identity, but in the end, we all turned out to be in the exact same boat. Utterly clueless and no closer to a solution.
“Wait.” Jasmine suddenly sat up straight, gaze flicking between me and Maverick. “You said you guys explored a bit the other night, when you broke the curfew. Because of your secret passage theory.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t find anything.”
“You said the drawing room was locked. Have either of you tried searching it since then? Like, when we have breakfast or whatever?”
My eyes widened, and I looked at Maverick. “I forgot all about the drawing room.”
“Me too,” he said, head shaking. “And we were right fucking there today. Twice. Not to mention yesterday. Fuck.”
“Well, if this secret passage theory has any weight to it, there’ll be an entry in there, just like you guys suspected,” Jasmine said, lowering her voice like she was afraid the Game Master was listening. “We can look once it opens up for dinner.”
By the time the drawing room finally reopened at six, we were all buzzing with excitement. Unfortunately, our search turned up nothing. The large oil paintings weren’t concealing any extra doorways, and none of the wooden panels on the walls sounded hollow. Our last attempt was a search under the carpet, in case there was a small trapdoor with a ladder that led to the room below, but the floorboards were all uniform with no hint of a hatch.
“Well, there goes that theory,” Jasmine said, shoulders glumly slumping. Her eyes flitted over to the nearest surveillance camera. “And now the Game Master totally knows we were looking, too.”
“So what?” Zach clenched his jaw. “What the fuck does he expect? For us all to give up and not even try to find a way out?”
I lifted a hand and cut in. “He would’ve seen me searching for a secret door the other night when I broke the curfew. Maverick, too. I don’t think he cares, because he’s so arrogant that he assumes we’ll never find anything.”
“Right.” Jasmine looked around the group. “Does anyone else suddenly have any bright ideas on how to escape?”
“Well… there’s that rope and boat idea someone had a few days ago,” Brooke said. “But we already figured that there’s no way the Game Master would leave a boat lying around outside.”
Jasmine threw her hands up. “Great. We’re all screwed,” she said. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. Might as well enjoy the hot water and comfy mattress while I still can, right?”
She stomped out of the drawing room. Brooke and Zach decided to follow her, and Hudson left as soon as he finished his last bite of dinner.
Maverick reached over to squeeze my hand. “Want to stay? Or should we go to bed?”
Suddenly all I could think about was his strong arms, warm skin, and big hands. That was exactly what I needed to distract me from my grief and terror right now. I might not be able to escape this place, but I could escape the pain, even if it was just for an hour or two.
“Bed,” I declared. “But I don’t want to sleep.”
We made it to my room in record time. “Are you sure you want this right now?” Maverick asked, one hand stroking my back as I locked the door.
I didn’t answer. I just turned and kissed him roughly. He growled deep in his throat and kissed me back, his lips just as hungry as mine. Then he pulled back, took my hand, and pulled me across the room.
We pulled our clothes off as we headed toward the bed, not caring if anything got ripped or torn. Desire rocketed through me as we tumbled downward and landed on the soft mattress, lips and hands wildly exploring each other’s mouths and bodies.
Maverick pushed me onto my back, grabbed my thighs, and yanked them apart. He slid down the bed, tongue tracing a teasing path down my left thigh as he went. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and it made me crave him even more. When his mouth finally reached my center, I gripped the sheets on either side of me and lifted my hips, moaning as he licked and sucked at my clit. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was on fire, and I couldn’t get enough.
“Omigod,” I moaned, writhing beneath him as he continued his assault on my senses. It was exactly what I needed right now; the perfect mind-numbing distraction from a reality that had never looked darker. “Yes!”
Maverick slid a finger inside me, curling it upward as his tongue worked its magic on my clit. I was already teetering on the edge of a climax, but just as the pressure was about to explode from within me, he pulled away, leaving me gasping. I lifted my head and looked down at him, eyes silently begging for more.
He positioned himself above me, the tip of his hard length pressing against my entrance, and I gasped as he pushed inside me, stretching and filling me completely. When he began to move, I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He groaned in response, movements quickly becoming faster and more aggressive.
My muscles tightened as tension built inside me. I could feel myself drawing closer and closer to the edge, every inch of me straining and quivering.
“Come for me,” Maverick muttered in my ear, roughly gripping my hips as he thrust into me. “I need to feel you come on my cock.”
His words sent me over the edge, and I cried out as my body shook and convulsed beneath him. He let out a low groan, his own climax following soon after mine.
For a long time, we just lay there, bodies entwined and hearts racing. I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to speak. Didn’t even want to think about anything beyond this bed. I knew as soon as I did, the grief would flood back, and I’d be sobbing and screaming all over again.
Maverick seemed to understand all of this, because he didn’t try to make me talk about yesterday, or anything else. Instead, he stayed quiet, gently stroking my hair and occasionally leaning in to kiss my forehead.
We stayed like that for hours, wrapped up in each other’s arms. At 9:45, Maverick finally sat up and stretched. “It’s nearly curfew,” he said. “Should I stay with you?”
“I think we all have to be in our own rooms after curfew,” I said, softly stroking his back. “Otherwise I’d say yes.”
He stared down at me, eyes filled with concern. “Should I just risk it? I don’t want you to be alone right now.”
I bit my bottom lip and considered it before shaking my head. “I don’t know what the next consequence will be. The first was just a text with information that made you look bad. But the next one…”
I trailed off, leaving the dark implication hanging in the air. Maverick groaned. “Yeah. You’re right. I should go,” he said. “I wouldn’t be much help to you if I was dead, would I?”
I winced. “Don’t even say that. Please.”
“Sorry.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
Once he was gone, I switched off my light and lay in the darkness, heart pounding. Maverick’s company had distracted me for a while, but now my brain was working overtime, going haywire with a thousand different thoughts.
My mind kept returning to the last game. What was it that was nagging at me so much? I must have seen something that aroused my suspicions in there, or else I wouldn’t keep coming back to it again and again.
I let out a frustrated sigh and tried to replay the entire experience in my mind’s eye. There was the dark tunnel, the creepy sigils painted everywhere, the snakes and insects, the flashing lights and terrifying sounds, the blood, the gore, the bodies… wait.
I sat bolt upright, heart jackhammering in my chest.
I knew exactly what was wrong.