41 | Mike
Mike
In all the years of playing the game, my brother has never gotten blood on his hands until tonight.
He has avoided it at all costs. We didn’t need him to explain the reasons behind it.
He was still as much a part of our group as myself and Nathan, even without getting his hands bloody—because he was doing everything else.
From hiding evidence, to burying the bodies, to making sure nothing could link us to a victim.
Even though I hate to admit it, this jerk might be the reason we have been free for so long. I can see it now.
He has always enjoyed the thrill of hunting the prey, but when it comes to the murder portion of the game, he always stays behind on purpose.
He doesn’t even come close to the victims when we are about to kill them.
Yet he did tonight. For Jessica. He did it to protect her, and it was clear to everyone involved except Jessica herself.
She surprised everyone with how willing she was to participate.
In fact, tonight’s hunt was all her. From choosing the victim to arranging the time and details, she gave us everything.
She told us where to find the woman, how to kidnap her, and details about her personal life to make sure we wouldn’t get caught by her boyfriend—who was apparently a cheating asshole who deserved to die just as much. Jessica’s words, not mine.
I barely wanted to participate myself, but after I saw her eyes while she was showing me the photos of this woman, I knew she needed this as much as I needed the hunts until now.
I am not sure if I will forever be satisfied without them, but right now I would give them up to have some type of normal life.
I can’t explain the reason behind this feeling.
Maybe it’s the fact that it feels like I finally got closure by seeing Mary bleed out.
It doesn’t really matter. It’s not like we are actually going to stop, but if we do, I think I’ll be okay.
Starting this game was, for me, a type of revenge in a loop.
It felt as if I was killing my mother every night.
On repeat—for years and years. It felt satisfying because her actual death wasn’t.
And how could it be? I was just a child.
I did it to survive, not to take revenge.
But as I grew older, I wished I could have waited.
I wished I could have suffered a little longer, just to see the woman who allowed all the horrible things done by her husband to me—and did her share of horrible things in return—bleed out.
I wanted her to suffer. I wanted to see her choke on her own blood.
Tonight’s game was exactly that for Jessica.
She was getting revenge, and that I can understand.
This woman is hell herself. She is fire.
The one we should fear, not the other way around.
We all mistook her for an angel, fallen in our path.
We thought she needed protection. That we needed to shield her from the bad parts of ourselves—the vile parts that could taint her beautiful soul.
Her soul, though, although still beautiful, isn’t pure at all.
It’s black like mine. She just hides it better. And that I can admire.
It must be nice, being able to hide your true self from the people around you.
She appears so nice. She smiles and behaves as if she will break at any moment, but this woman has as much strength as any of us.
I wonder what really happened in her life to cause this.
We know bits and pieces, but not the whole story, and the more I get to see parts of her, the more I need to know the real story.
What shaped her into this magnificent beast of a woman who entered our lives by force and had all three of us obsessed with her from the moment we sunk inside her?
Even Nathan, who has never had any romantic interest in any woman, as far as I know—he is smitten with her already.
I can tell. Trust me, I know my man. It's not exactly love at first sight, though. I would say it’s more like love at first fuck. Would that ever last?
I drive the three hours to the burial ground Liam has chosen for this town.
He is very careful when it comes to things like that.
All those rules and requirements we need to keep in mind—if you think about it, he has a point.
I understand now. Tonight felt as if I was watching the game through someone else’s eyes, and that made me realize how much my brother has been doing for us. He really does keep us free.
The land he has chosen to bury the bodies is located on the edge of the next town over—a large estate that is part of a house that has been empty for years.
He learned the history of it and researched the owners in detail before he chose it.
He has done it for every town we've visited.
Every woman we killed is buried somewhere she will never be found.
It’s a simple process, really, but simplicity is the key to staying undetected.
Liam chooses one town to move into and hunt, and another as a dumping ground.
We move monthly. By the time the authorities figure it out—if they do—we have moved on to a different location.
Because we have been doing this for years, I would say they have no clue that the disappearances are connected.
No bodies except the first have been discovered.
Nate did a terrible job hiding that one, but once Liam took over, every woman remained a missing person instead of a dead one.
As far as the police are aware, at least. Because every single one of them is indeed dead.
My man has some great qualities, but attention to detail was never one of them.
I don’t have much of that skill either. We have been taking Liam for granted for so long, not realizing he was indeed the one who did everything for us, without ever getting the thrill of a kill.
That alone shows his loyalty. He would do anything for us.
And tonight... Tonight is another clear sign of how far Liam’s loyalty goes.
Because he finally killed, and he did it for the woman he is in love with.
It doesn’t take a genius to know he is already past the point of just wanting her.
My brother is in love. He is absolutely head over heels for a woman who is as dangerous as the rest of his family.
One more lunatic on the list of lunatics Liam needs to protect from themselves.
Liam came up with the rules years ago after Nate’s failure, and he is so good at planning that I would bet my left kidney they have no clue the missing women are even connected.
Not only do they ignore the fact that they are dead, but they don’t even have a clue that the same people are the reason for every single one of them going missing.
The fact that the police departments of each town are not communicating with each other—and the fact that the big guns haven’t been called yet—tells me I’m right.
They have absolutely no chance of figuring it out.
Small-town police departments are never equipped to handle our type of evil.
In the eyes of the law, we are three men—well-educated, extremely rich, with manners and authority—traveling the world after the deaths of our parents.
Which isn’t exactly a lie. We are traveling the world, and our parents, both biological and adoptive, are dead.
Technically, we are not lying to anyone. We are just telling half the truth.
Since we moved into Nate's house when we were kids and were officially adopted before becoming adults, my brother and I are considered, in the eyes of the law, his parents' kids as much as Nate. Ironic, isn’t it? How well we have bonded over the years would turn heads.
I finally arrive at the remote land where Liam has chosen to bury the women we have murdered on this side of the country, and I park a good distance from the spot. I slide the van’s side door open and take out my shovel and the redhead’s lifeless body.
Tonight, things have changed in a lot of ways.
I wonder how Liam is doing as I drag the woman’s body to the spot where he has buried the rest of them and begin to dig. The guilt must be killing him. Hopefully, I think, Jessica will be enough of a distraction—if his stubbornness allows it—to at least ease the pain a little.
A light drizzle starts to fall on me—not enough to ruin my plans, but just enough to cover my tracks after I am done. A detail I learned from Liam. He has always said how rain can work in your favor, and now I am hoping he is right.
I will admit, this town has been the perfect dump site.
Not much activity at night, and the weather is often filled with rain and mist. When the hole in the ground is deep enough, I drag her body over, pushing it inside.
I begin to shovel dirt over the woman's body.
Each scoop feels like a burden, a symbol of the responsibility we carry with us.
As the grave is nearly filled, I take one last look.
This woman is no longer the person she once was; she has become a symbol of our twisted game.
I am usually not the guilty type, but tonight, I don’t believe any of us—other than Jessica—truly wanted to participate.
It should be a red flag that this woman is not only fine with dating three serial killers, but also wants in on the action.
I am a lot of things; reasonable is not one of them.
A twisted part of me gets hard at the thought of her enjoying the kills as much as I do.
Another part is worried about what will happen if we piss her off.