Deviant

Prologue

Rowen

Blackwater Falls.

To the unobservant eye, the small remote town hidden in the Pocono Mountains could be described as charmingly quaint or even blissfully serene, but for those who live here, it is anything but.

There’s no peace in this godforsaken place, only torment and unrest.

You see, every year, our little town likes to partake… in a game—one that ensures no winner, despite what the rest of the town might have you believe.

We call it The Scourge.

The name is all too fitting since the goal is to rip to shreds whatever ounce of humanity this town has left.

Everyone has become so accustomed to this macabre event that no one dares question the intent behind its existence, much less care to remember the story behind its origin.

And why would they, when everyone benefits from such cruelty?

Fearing that this wretched game is the only way to ensure the town’s survival, the hush money paid with the blood of innocent lives is more than enough to keep the townsfolk obedient and silent.

Only when the ramifications of their subservience wash ashore Silverstone Lake are they reminded and shamed for their complicity in the horrific sport. Alongside the fallen autumn leaves, tree branches, and twigs, the once effervescent bodies of the young now float in small, chopped pieces, too deformed and butchered for anyone to identify.

However, like clockwork, the town’s crippling guilt is quickly forgotten the following year, and either by submissive habit or cowardly fear, Blackwater Falls welcomes the start of the game season with a sickening eager flare.

But make no mistake— The Scourge is the ugly stain branded on our town’s soul, cursing us all and guaranteeing that no one is left unscathed or innocent of wrongdoing.

And I, for one, wanted no part in it if I could avoid it.

Not until now, that is.

This year, I intend to be picked as one of the Harvest Dozen.

And come what may, I will be chosen.

Not because I think I can win.

But because I know I won’t.

The Scourge is the answer to the dilemma I’m desperate to solve.

It will give me the one thing I’ve been too much of a coward to obtain on my own—the sweet release only death can provide.

That will be my prize.

That will be… my penance.

If the purpose of this fucked-up game is to devour lost, damaged souls, then I can’t think of one more fitting and tarnished than my own.

I’m ready to play my part in this twisted game… till the very end.

And nothing and no one will get in my way.