Deviant

Chapter 25

Elias

No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the image of Rowen’s gorgeous face lighting up in gratitude after I vowed to kill her. Though it was always my intention to do so, I never expected her to be so fucking giddy about it.

It sucks out all the fun of my revenge.

“Elias!” Rowen yells as she knocks on the bathroom door. “We just got a text, demanding we arrive at the dining hall in fifteen minutes.”

And then there’s that.

The assholes who think they can order me around whenever they want.

Just another thing to add to the long list of things that piss me off.

“Elias!”

Heard you the first time, Roe.

I tune her out and relish the jets of water cascading over me, washing away the tension in my muscles that her melodic voice so effortlessly provokes. Once every inch of me is scrubbed clean, I turn off the water and step out of the shower, doing my best to ignore Rowen banging away at the door, yelling at me to hurry up. I wrap a towel around my waist and then grab hold of the sink just to stare at my reflection.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with you now, Roe?

You’re more worried about keeping a promise to a ghost than you are about your own survival.

And for some unexplained reason, that shit doesn’t sit well with me.

No. I know the reason behind why her eagerness to off herself troubles me. It means I’ll have to be extra vigilant where she’s concerned.

I always knew that she was depressed.

A few months’ worth of stalking her was long enough for me to attest to that.

But last night… in that tent… I honestly thought it would be enough to snap her out of her funk. However, by the looks of it, it’s going to take more than a couple of good orgasms to accomplish such a thing. It’s not like I give a shit if she lives or dies, but it would be a lot more fun killing her if she fought me a little bit.

Liar. You do care. You care a whole fucking lot.

I snarl at my reflection, despising the worried hue in the fucker’s eyes. Instead of giving it any credence, I turn my back on the asshole since it’s obvious he doesn’t know shit about me.

I came here with one purpose, and one purpose only.

And no matter how tight her cunt is or how sweet she tastes, I intend to see it through… till the very end.

“Elias!” Rowen calls out, swinging the bathroom door wide open in exasperation, clearly giving up on waiting for me.

Her hungry eyes take a minute to greedily take my semi-naked body in, before she remembers why she barged into the bathroom in the first place.

“Sorry.” She lowers her gaze to the floor. “It’s just that we don’t have a lot of time.”

“The fuckers can wait,” I say, bypassing her without so much as looking at her face, to go into the bedroom.

“Uh… Five brought you some clothes while you were taking your shower. She placed them in that closet over there.”

“I’ll wear my own fucking clothes.”

I rummage through my bag and find a clean black t-shirt and jeans to wear.

“Are you angry at me or something?” she asks, her perfectly manicured brows joining at the center of her forehead.

“Why would I be angry at you?”

“I don’t know. You just sound like you are. You look like it too.”

“If I’m angry at anything, it’s the current situation we find ourselves in,” I lie. “I don’t like people ordering me around. Especially fuckers who want to kill me just for kicks,” I fume.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she says, quickly coming over to me and placing her palms over my bare chest, scorching it with her gentle touch.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

Her face looks like a beautiful painting I’d like to tear up with my teeth. But as I breathe her in, all clean and showery fresh, my anger subsides long enough to take in her new appearance. In tight jeans and a fitted top, with her chestnut hair pulled up into a bun, she looks so different from the girl who used to wear summer dresses just to look all innocent and shit.

“You decided to wear their clothes?” I mutter as I continue to drink her in.

“While in Rome, I guess,” she replies with a shrug, her cheeks beginning to pink with the way I can’t seem to take my eyes off her.

She looks good.

Real good.

Too fucking good for the pricks waiting for us downstairs. However, since time is short, I can’t order her to change into something else, though I doubt she would comply to my demand, no matter how hard I insisted. Knowing Rowen, she would just march her sweet ass in those tight jeans downstairs, without sparing me a second thought.

“I thought you said we had somewhere to be?” I all but growl. “I can’t get dressed with your hands on me.”

“Oh, sorry,” she says, pulling her arms back to her side. When I drop the towel in front of her, she quickly turns around.

“Is all that modesty for your benefit or mine? Because, if I recall correctly, you weren’t so shy last night,” I remind with a chuckle, pulling my pants up, deciding on going commando tonight.

“Can you please just hurry? I don’t want to be late,” she says instead of responding to my taunt.

After I’ve pulled a black T-shirt over my head and put on my boots, I twirl her around to face me again.

“There. I’m dressed. Satisfied?”

After a quick scan of my clothes, her gaze returns to my face, lingering on my lips for longer than she should. If we’re on the clock, then she really shouldn’t be looking at me like she wants to kiss me. And by the way her tongue licks her parched lips, that’s exactly what’s on her mind right now.

Roe has a one-track mind, I’ll give her that.

But since now is not the time to indulge her fantasies—or mine for that matter—I take a step back away from her before I’m tempted to change my mind.

“If you’re quite done eye-fucking me, best we be on our way,” I state, grabbing her hand in mine and pulling her out of the room.

Five minutes later, Rowen is still blushing profusely when we find the dining room downstairs. Everyone is already in their seats around a large dining table that is filled to the brim with mouthwatering food.

“What do you think? Are they fattening us up before the slaughter?” Andy whispers as I settle down beside him, clearly sharing my distrust of the over-the-top meal.

There’s enough food here to feed a small country, let alone the twelve of us.

And as the seconds pass, I see that everyone is thinking the same thing, no one daring to place a speck of food on their plates, too afraid it might be poisoned.

I’m not sure how long we stay there, just silently staring at each other, before Henry finally makes an appearance. Though we’ve all established that he’s blind, somehow, he still knows that not one of us has touched our meal.

“Is the food not to your liking?” he asks, but when no one answers, he lets out a disappointed sigh. “Well then… let me remedy any misgivings you might have about the feats we have prepared in your honor this evening.” He then picks up a small bell from the table and starts ringing it until Five and Seven appear in the room. “It would seem that our guests do not trust us yet. Can you please assure them that the food was made with proper care and that no harm will come to them by our hand?”

Seven and Five nod in unison and rush to do Henry’s bidding. They begin to remove the plates from the table, and one by one, they fill each person’s plate with whatever we pick out. Then, they take a bite of everything on the plate, demonstrating that it’s safe to eat.

“Thank fuck for that. I’m starving,” Chris says, wolfing down his plate after Seven is done with her taste test.

Once Five finishes eating what she placed on Rowen’s plate, Rowen picks up her cutlery to dig into her food but stops when I grab her wrist and shake my head.

“Not yet,” I order, keeping a vigilant eye on Five as she tends to my own plate. I let a good ten minutes pass by, just to make sure Five didn’t just willingly ingest cyanide, before I give Rowen the all clear.

“Ah, look at that. Your food must be cold by now. Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid, Elias?” Mackenzie asks from down the table, her gaze obviously fixed on her opponents’ every move.

“Ever hear the phrase, better safe than sorry?” Andy quickly comes to my defense. “It was created for a reason.”

“Seriously, Andy, this is going to get tiresome real fast if you don’t stop kissing Elias’s ass. Besides, aren’t you worried that Harper might get jealous to see she’s got competition?” David goads before taking a bite of his steak.

“Blow me,” Andy quips back.

“Sorry, I only do chicks. On second thought, you are a bit of a pussy, so I might throw you a bone if I’m really desperate for some action.” David laughs at Andy’s expense, gaining a few more chuckles from the peanut gallery that is Big Mike and Chris.

“Can we please have one meal together where we aren’t all at each other’s throats?” Abigail utters beside Rowen.

“Abbie’s right. This place… it’s going to eat us alive if we start turning on each other,” Lucas adds, throwing a sympathetic smile Abigail’s way.

“God, all I see are a bunch of pussies around me. How the hell did I get stuck with so many of you?” David mumbles, genuinely exasperated that he has to share The Scourge with the eleven of us.

“Do you never shut up?” Rowen says, coaxing my hand to go to her thigh to silence her. “No!” she turns to me and says, “I’m tired of him always tearing everyone down. Someone has to stand up to this bully.”

“Oh, look at that. I think they’re about to have their first lover’s quarrel,” Mackenzie teases.

“And you!” Rowen drags her frustrated gaze off me to stare daggers at Mackenzie. “What exactly is your problem with me? If this has something to do with Aidan, then by all means, he’s yours. Keep him. I don’t care. Just get off my back already.”

Mackenzie’s scowl makes her pretty face look as ugly as her personality. But it is the slam of two fists on the table that really gets my attention.

“Will you idiots stop your bickering!” Ruby shouts at the top of her lungs. “So we don’t like each other? Big fucking whoop. We have bigger fish to fry than worrying about hurting each other’s feelings. I don’t know if you guys realized this yet, but we’re here… in this house… waiting for The Scourge to have its way with us. I don’t know about you, but snide comments and hateful remarks don’t worry me as much as The Scourge does. That’s where you should be wasting your energy, not on each other.”

Everyone bows their heads and pretends they weren’t just schooled by a girl who is barely five feet tall. But what I don’t miss is the mean glower she sends Rowen when Ruby thinks she isn’t looking.

Too bad for her, I am.

For all her talk about not wasting energy on people we don’t like, she sure wouldn’t miss a minute of sleep if Rowen was the first one of us to be sacrificed to The Scourge.

We eat the rest of our dinner in complete and utter silence, not wanting to engage in conversation at the risk of pissing someone off. Or worse, having to hear Ruby go off on another tangent.

But as I finish my meal, something catches my eye. From my peripheral vision, I see young Abigail hiding her steak knife under the table. And when she places her hands back on top of the tablecloth, the knife is nowhere in sight.

Hmm.

I’m going to have to keep an eye out for that one.

Though she looks harmless, the knife she just hid is not.

It’s only after we’ve finished our dessert that Henry reappears in the room.

“I hope your meal was to your satisfaction.”

“It sure was, Henry. Best dinner I’ve ever had!” Chris exclaims, rubbing his stomach in contentment.

“Good. I’m pleased to hear it,” Henry offers him a curt nod. “But I’m afraid that the pleasantries of this evening have come to an end,” he adds, with a blank expression on his face, “to give room for more pressing matters to be discussed. I’m sure you are all wondering why you’re here and are curious to learn what part you will play in the events that will take place in the upcoming weeks,” he pauses for effect. “So if you would all be so kind as to follow me, our hosts are most eager to answer one of those questions tonight,” he says, ushering us to get up from our seats to follow him.

“Here we go. Time to meet the puppet masters,” Mackenzie sing-songs as we leave the dining room to follow Henry to the east wing of the mansion. After so many twists and turns, I lose track of where we are, but luckily, Henry knows this house like the back of his hand, only coming to a halt once we’ve reached our destination.

“After you,” he says, swinging the door open.

As we step into a stark white room, our curiosity is naturally piqued, since Henry made a big production of saying that our hosts were going to be here. However, it isn’t their absence that causes me concern, but the utterly empty room itself that’s alarming to me. No windows, no furniture, just an expansive void. The only presence is the unsettling gaze of four cameras, positioned in each corner, silently observing us.

“There’s no one here!” Mackenzie pouts slamming her foot on the floor like a toddler. “I thought you said we were going to meet our hosts.”

“You must have misheard me, Lady Davenport. I said that our hosts are very eager to answer one of your questions tonight,” Henry clarifies.

“I don’t get it,” Harper says, holding onto Andy’s arm.

“Me neither, babe. Me neither.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do here?” David asks,

“Please just wait here. Our hosts will make contact with you shortly,” Henry says before stepping back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and locking us inside.

“Great, now we’re locked in,” David grumbles.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” Andy jokes to lighten the tension we’re all feeling.

“How are we supposed to get out of here now?” I hear Lucy ask Lucas.

“Fuck this! Someone help me kick this door down?” Big Mike hollers, looking at his buddy, Chris, for help.

But just as the two are about to knock the door down, our watches all start vibrating and ringing simultaneously.

“Stop!” Ruby says, pulling her watch up to Big Mike’s face for him to read.

The messages are the same for all of us.

And once one comes, the others quickly follow.

You were all carefully picked for a reason.

None of you are innocent.

None of you are pure.

Do you truly know who the people around you are?

Who you’ve confided your secrets to?

Who you’ve shared bread with?

We do.

And it’s about time you did, too.

“Fuck, I don’t like this,” Chris says, cracking his knuckles nervously.

“Shut up,” Big Mike growls as another text message arrives.

Turn off the lights and be enlightened.

“The fuck does that mean?” Big Mike asks, confused.

“What do you think, you big oaf? They want us to turn off the lights,” Ruby says, already standing by the light switch.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Harper stammers nervously.

“Why? Are you scared they might reveal some dirty little secret of yours?” David chuckles. “Whatever it is, I doubt it will be that interesting. Ruby, do it now! Turn the lights off!”

“Wait!” Abigail shouts, but it’s too late.

The second Ruby flips the switch, it dawns on all of us what the hosts meant by us being enlightened.

In bright neon, a group of words have been scribbled all over the white walls in the room. Words like liar, thief, and drug dealer, taunt their respective owners, while uglier words like cheater and narcissist find theirs. But there are more words that pop out in vibrant colors, pulling our attention to them. Words like arsonist, manipulator, and blackmailer also color its walls. But as we spin around the room, those words aren’t even the worst ones.

Murderer.

Killer.

Rapist.

Psychopath.

Hmm.

I guess this band of misfits is more interesting than I gave them credit for.

“Turn the light back on! Turn it on!” Lucy screams, completely freaking out.

I feel Rowen’s hand slide into mine, fear finally seeping its way inside her. Suddenly, someone rushes past me, and within seconds, my eyes are blinking, trying to adjust to the bright light overhead. Everyone stares at each other like we’re all complete strangers. But before anyone can open their mouths to say anything—or, more importantly, accuse anyone—we receive another text message from our hosts.

Now you know.

We’re all still trying to make sense of all of this when Henry unlocks the door to step inside the room, Seven right at his heel.

“Now that our hosts have conveyed why you have been selected, please follow me into the den so I may offer you their next batch of introductions.”

Not having to be told twice, everyone rushes out of the room, like they can’t get away fast enough from it.

But while Henry walks completely carefree down the hallway, the rest of us aren’t as untroubled.

“The fuck was that?!” Ruby shouts, losing her cool.

“Looks to me like our hosts just showed us who everyone really is,” Lucas exclaims, giving David a mean glare.

“Oh yeah, and who am I?” David snaps at him, going as far as pushing Lucas to the wall.

“Don’t worry. Yours was easy to figure out. I’m thinking… Narcissist.” Lucas pushes back.

David is about to swing his arm back to punch Lucas in the face, but Seven stops him by putting herself in harm’s way. She shakes her head and points to Henry.

“No harm can be done to the dozen unless the hosts precisely indicate it. Those who don’t follow the rules will be punished. Severely,” he explains, putting extra emphasis on the word severely.

“I didn’t like the sound of that, did you?” Rowen whispers beside me.

I give her a curt nod before barking at the two idiots, who still look like they want to fight, in front of me. “Move,” I demand, pushing both boys to follow what looks to be a very annoyed Henry.

The man hasn’t shown much emotion since we arrived at his doorstep, but apparently breaking one of his bosses’ rules is enough to put us on his bad side.

Once we are all in the den—surprise, surprise, another lavish room—we either sit or stand as far away as we can from each other, sticking only to the people we feel safe with. Oddly enough, this creates two separate groups.

In my corner of the room are Rowen, Andy, Harper, Lucy, Lucas, and young Abigail.

Opposed to us are David, Mackenzie, Big Mike, Chris, and Ruby.

I guess we’ve chosen our alliances, after all.

“I will keep this short as it has been a long day and even longer night for all of us,” Henry says, eyeing Lucas and David in distaste. “Tomorrow, you will be divided into two separate groups,” he starts.

“Looks like we already are,” I say out loud, gaining a smirk from David.

“Of the hosts’ choosing,” Henry corrects, ignoring my remark. “This year, our hosts have also decided that you will face your challenges in pairs.”

“Challenges?” Ruby questions.

“Pairs?” Mackenzie chimes in.

“Does that mean this is the first time they decided to do such a thing?” Rowen adds her question to the mix.

Bombarded with questions from every direction, Henry remains eerily silent, refusing to respond to any of them. Realizing he will only continue when everyone has shut their traps, the room falls quiet so that the one man who actually holds all the answers can finally speak.

“As I was saying,” he clears his throat. “This year, each challenge will be tackled by couples—one man and one woman—chosen by you. Tomorrow, only six of you will participate in the games, while the remaining six must wait their turn in three days’ time. After those games have come to a conclusion, you will all be given three days of rest, so that you are ready for the group challenge. Those are the only instructions I am at liberty to inform you of, until tomorrow’s first challenge.” He then pauses, as if taking a second for himself, before continuing on. “Tonight, as you choose the person who will be by your side to face such trials and tribulations, I make one final caution—choose carefully and wisely. As the white room showed you, not everyone here is who you think they are.”