Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
With the filth now covered, I gently took her hand, the leather a barrier between us I loathed, but not enough to diminish the connection I felt. "This is the part where we play again," I told her, my voice low.
It was a new phase, a deeper dive into the game.
Right about now final bets were being placed while others cursed themselves for putting bids on a contestant that had just been killed off. Our group was going to make someone very wealthy. There was no doubt we would win this. It was simply a matter of determining how we’d win and how many would die along the way.
CHAPTER FOUR
We moved at a breakneck pace, our feet pounding against the unforgiving pavement. I found myself silently thanking my mother for all the years of track and gymnastics she’d all but forced me to endure. Come to think of it, that was probably the only thing I had to be grateful to her for. Those skills were proving invaluable now as we weaved and dodged past fallen bodies. I wouldn’t be forgetting what some of them had been reduced to anytime soon. If I looked too closely, I would throw up.
Kyrous’ hand was wrapped firmly around mine, his grip unyielding as he made himself keep pace with me. Ahead of us, Lana and Ciaran led the way.
I checked on Melantha and saw she was maintaining a steady pace, flanked by Brody and Dion, who were watching her closely, ready to support her at a moment's notice. She had to be in immense pain, but she still hadn’t said a word about it.
I tried to recall the map I'd seen earlier, but everything looked so different in reality. If it weren’t for the guys, I’d be completely lost. I wasn’t even entirely sure where we were going. This part of the Playground was as meticulously crafted as the rest of the city, an elaborate stage set for nothing but carnage and riddles. The streets, eerily empty now, held an air of foreboding.
Melantha voiced the question that hung in my mind, "Where did everyone go?"
Ciaran's response was cryptic but certain, "You'll have your answer in about ten minutes."
As if on cue, white pickups and black vans began to sporadically appear.
People clad in what looked like hazmat suits disembarked, a grim clean-up crew in the aftermath of the chaos. Some were tasked with removing bodies, while others sanitized the area with tanks strapped to their backs, sprayers in hand. Each uniform bore the emblem of the Devil's Playground--a triangle with an eye in its center.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Lana muttered under her breath, her tone a mix of disbelief and disdain. “Purgation Inc. Grim’s Cleanup,” she read off the names of the companies that were branded on the vehicles.
"Wait until you see the construction crew," Maverick joked. A reminder that all of this--the destruction, the death--was a prelude to more orchestrated horror.
I should’ve been accustomed to it by now. In curated anarchy, nothing was too extreme or macabre.
I couldn't help but wonder what other twisted surprises lay in wait for us. We weaved through a small park, another eerie imitation of normalcy in the hellish city. I faltered when I spotted a small group of masked kids—freaking children—loitering near a swing set. There was an even smaller child with them, a beautiful little boy with piercing blue eyes and brown skin. No part of me could fathom why he, or any of them for that matter, were here.
When they spotted us, they all abruptly froze, as if they were marionettes and someone had just cut their strings. Their gazes latched onto our group, and for a moment time seemed to warp, stretching thin between two realities. I glanced up at Ky’s masked face. “Why are there kids here?”
“Not all monsters are grown, Sunshine.”
“That’s fucked up. Seriously fucked up,” Melantha breathed out, holding a cramp. “Shouldn’t we—you--be helping them?”
“We aren’t babysitters,” Brody replied, his voice as dry as the pavement, stripped bare of any empathy.
“Ky said it best,” Ciaran added without missing a beat. “Don’t let their ages fool you. Look at what they’re playing with.”
My eyes roamed over the group and for a moment, my brain refused to accept it—a severed head. The eyes were vacant of life, resting beneath the sole of a young boy's shoe as if it were nothing more than a discarded toy. I blanched, anchored only by Ky’s firm grip on my hand.
“I was pretending I didn’t notice that” Lana said.
The child shifted his weight, and the head rolled grotesquely to one side, a mockery of acquiescence to the game they were playing. Dion balked and put more space between himself and the kids. “What kinda twisted Children of The Corn bullshit is that?”
“Some don’t have a choice, but soon... he could be free,” Kyrous stated, his voice low and cryptic.