Page 105 of The Game
I stand amidst chaos. Three old men, bound to the mossy trunks of evergreens, stripped and shivering and utterly broken—broken beyond repair. Fire dances in their eyes, but it is merely a reflection, now; there’s no life left in them. They are nothing more than animals.
Dick’s lips are ripped, dangling over his teeth in shreds as he wheezes, barely able to keep his wobbling chin up. Daniel is weeping, and it’s clear to see he’s missing every fingernail and toenail, along with his ears. Makes me wonder what else is missing.
The other, the one we took tonight, is weeping as well at the sight of his scummy friends, his fate sealed as he pisses his ill-fitting white underwear.
The oddest part is in not feeling one ounce of pity as I tower over them, allowing my eyes to sweep with careful precision over their submissive forms. The power that flows through my veins ignites me, frightens me in its capacity, but I harness it, focus it, and prepare for whatever my devils have planned next.
They stalk the small circle of the clearing like the wolves they are, allowing me as much time as I need to digest what it is I am seeing. Tristan chuckles every time Daniel whimpers, and Jameson purposely grinds the heel of his boot onto Dick’s foot every time he passes by. I’m not sure how long I stare, trying to connect the jumbled thoughts in my mind, but I feel the tangible change in the air, the electricity sparking in my twins’ chests as they close the distance between us with each pass.
I know Teddy had a hand in this, but it begs the question of what they themselves did, and although I want to bite it away, this emboldened version of myself asks it with a sneer on my face.
“What did you do to make them pay?” I hiss, eyes locked on Daniel’s as tears waver. They killed my mother. My step-father. Forced me to play their game. Made me bow to them every night and do sick things to stroke their fragile egos. Stole my child. Stole Teddy’s mother, stole his best years. My rage is insurmountable, and I will never pity them.
Tristan strides closer, his heavy, familiar hands snaking around my waist from behind as he squeezes me painfully hard and whispers in my ear, “Brought them back to life for you,babochka, just so you could watch me take it from them again.”
His words send a shudder through me, his voice taking on an edge I’ve never heard before. Instead of frightening me as it should, it makes me smile anew, Daniel flinching at the sight. Jameson is next, coming closer, his hand slithering up my back to rest on the nape of my neck before he squeezes. “Teddy sewed his lips shut,” he growls in my ear, nodding to Dick. “And when I lowered his ass over his little pyramid, he screamed so much he ripped his fucking stitches out.”
Bile rises up my throat, my body numb yet alight at the same time, my vision tunneled. Tristan spits at Daniel’s feet before his hand rises up my side, squeezing my muscles as he gropes me, canting his hips to dig his cock into my ass cheek. My breath catches in my throat as Jameson’s hand squeezes just a little tighter, their possessiveness over me as demanding as it is empowering. My eyes flutter in stark desire, my pussy clenching in response to their dominance, their power.
“And what would you have us do now, baby?” Tristan asks, a grin in his voice. Into my palm, Jameson presses the handle of his knife, blood still caked on the shimmering steel. They’re giving me this, and the shock that follows the realization jolts me out of my stupor. My eyes swish to Tristan’s, then Jameson’s, the hard edges of their irises glinting in the firelight.
It’s not lost on me, how undeniably grand this gift from them is; they also killed Vasily, they hurt me, and for them to allowmethe chance to take their pathetic lives has to be one of the most difficult decisions of their existence. My eyes lock on each individual man as I picture slicing through their throats, listening to their garbled groans as they choke on their own blood, as it paints my skin—
No.
No, the only blood allowed on my skin tonight will be Teddy’s.
Pressing the hilt of the knife back into Jameson’s hand, their surprise is felt, but I swish my eyes to them, everything I ever need falling into place here and now. For eternity, I belong to them, my demons that love nothing in this world except for me, and I finally realize with desperation that what I’ve needed all along is to see them—toreallysee them for who they are.
There is no good and bad, not anymore. There is only us and the rest of the world, and I know now that I would sacrifice everyone for them without feeling any remorse. So as a smile grows on my lips as I stand between them, as they hold me together, I give them my unyielding truth.
“Show me your darkness. I want to be born again.”
And as their wicked grins answer and echo my own, these hallowed woods bow in submission, the dirt bathed in a baptismal blood that cleanses this earth and fills me with strength only born of facing fire, of walking through it, and finding my own darkness on the other side.
My life is theirs.
And I will never stop giving it to them.
EPILOGUE
Teddy
Four Years Later
“You’re going to be late to your own wedding, bunny,” I say with a laugh, swiping a smudge of mascara from the top of her cheek. True to her nature, she glares at me, a vision in white, although I did notice her nails are still painted black. The sight has me biting back a smile.
“Yeah, well, you died on top of me, then came back to life, died on the operating table, and came back again. Still not convinced you aren’t a demon or something,” she grumbles, adjusting her veil. She will never let me live that down. Chuckling, I wrap her in a hug from behind, careful not to disturb her flawless makeup. I’ve been practicing on her for months, with her graduation from her masters program our trial run. Little shit somehow finished her undergrad and postgrad in four years. Probably because I helped her double enroll without anyone being the wiser, but still.
I can give Alice some credit.
After fretting, she finally settles, staring deeply into my eyes through the looking glass.
“Stop that,” she mumbles. Unable to prevent myself from smirking, I peck her on the cheek.
“We’re gonna be a good team for work. You still obey me, with or without my cock in you.”
She groans, slapping her cheek as she shakes her head, my laughter booming through the spacious bathroom. She’s set to walk down the aisle any moment, here on my property, the innards of the asylum under construction. It’s nearing completion, but I’ve already moved in, not able to stray away from my new home for long. After my mother’s death and burial in the cemetery nearby, leaving behind all the souls that find comfort in me feels wrong. I’m needed, be it from the living or the dead.