Deviant

Chapter 30

Elias

Lucy didn’t make it.

Not that it surprised me any. I saw the look in her eyes. It’s the same one Rowen gets from time to time—the desire to disappear and vanish from existence.

I knew she was a goner before she even left the room.

And by the way Big Mike returned with rope marks around his neck, she went out the way she wanted to.

Thankfully, Andy and Harper were left unscathed even though they had no choice but to choose the red room after Chris and Abbie were fortunate enough to pick the black. I have a sneaking suspicion that before either Harper or Abbie came across such doors, they already knew which ones to pick. Rowen must have warned them. I’d bet my life on it.

Doesn’t matter anymore anyway. I’m sure everyone has picked up on it by now which doors are safe and which are not after the last two games.

I must admit I was a little surprised when Andy told me that the red room wasn’t so bad. Like Rowen and I, they too were strapped to an electric chair, but apparently, since none of them lied when the other bombarded them with intrusive questions, both left the room right as rain.

But that was three days ago.

The only reprieve The Scourge gives us between games.

Today, we’re all supposed to play, and I’ve got a nagging suspicion that shit is about to get a whole lot worse.

Or maybe the real reason why I’m dreading today’s game is because I’ll have to be locked in a room with Rowen. Since she came clean and told me how my sister died, I haven’t made any moves to get too close. I just couldn’t. Not until I could decipher how I felt about the whole thing.

One thing has been made painfully clear to me though.

Rowen never meant to kill Nora.

She wasn’t the heartless traitor I accused her of being.

Her only sin was to try to protect Nora from herself.

Leave it to my baby sister to think she could save our mother by trying to enter The Scourge. After this past week, I’m certain that my bleeding-heart sister wouldn’t survive a day here.

I honestly believed that if Rowen told me what she had done, my hatred for her would grow. And I needed that hate. I needed that hate more than anything. Because then it would make it easier for me to watch her die.

But once again, Rowen foiled my plans.

That’s what she does.

She spins my world upside down until I no longer know which side is up.

And for the past three days, I’ve been trying to make sense of the chaotic mess she left me with her confession.

“Is everyone ready?” Henry asks when he enters the dining room.

“If we say no, can we get a raincheck?” Harper asks, batting her eyelashes at Henry.

“I’m afraid not, Lady Thomas.”

“Babe, what are you doing? He’s blind, remember?” Andy laughs at Harper’s attempt to flirt her way out of the game.

“So that’s why it didn’t work.” She snaps her fingers.

“God, you’re adorable,” Andy professes before kissing her stupid.

When he lets up, Harper fans herself like she might faint from the kiss.

Those two were made for each other.

They might be a little weird, but they… make sense.

To my chagrin, my gaze travels around the room until it finds Rowen sitting next to Abigail on the couch. Though Rowen is slightly older than Abigail by a few years, their friendship makes sense on paper, too. Both are known for having been sheltered by strict parents, hence Abigail’s crippling shyness and Rowen’s lack of friendships. Compared to the rest of the deviants in this room, neither girl looks like they are much competition when it comes to winning The Scourge. Only I know that one has killed before—even if unintentionally—while the other doesn’t go anywhere without her trusty steak knife around her waistband.

When Rowen catches me staring, I turn my head away, pretending something shinier has caught my eye.

Fuck.

The woman makes me feel like I’m some punk on a playground tugging at the braids of the girl he likes.

“If you’ll all follow me, I’ll escort you to your next game.”

“No rush, Henry. No rush,” Andy teases, throwing me a conspiring wink.

As always, I make sure that everyone leaves the room before I do. I like trailing behind the group, since this way I can keep a vigilant eye on Rowen, without running the risk of getting caught. But when Henry starts to lead us into the east wing of the house, a sick sense of Deja Vu assaults me. And when he stops at a familiar door, every face I see holds the same trepidation I feel.

“Please, after you,” he says, opening the door for us to enter.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit,” Ruby grumbles, biting her nails as we enter the same windowless room we first visited the night we arrived.

“No one better touch the goddamn light switch. We all know how well that turned out for us last time,” David warns, not wanting to see the reason why our hosts selected us in the first place.

But where the first time the room was completely bare of any furnishings, this time there are ten chairs placed in a circle at the center of the room. But that isn’t what alarms me. It’s the table at the head of the room with various lethal objects and weaponry that has my jaw ticking nonstop.

“I’m really starting to not like this place,” Big Mike grumbles as he eyes the wrench, baseball bat, pliers, and other cool things that can be used against him.

“Please, take your seats. Today is a group day, so don’t feel the need to sit by your assigned partner.”

Great.

At least I have that.

I wait for Rowen to sit down with Abigail, before I choose my own chair opposite both girls.

“Good idea. Boys versus girls. Finally, an idea I can get behind,” Ruby snickers, taking a seat next to Mackenzie.

“Let’s take those two seats, babe. That way, we can still sit next to each other,” Harper coos over at Andy.

“You two are so adorable, I might gag. Oh wait, I already am inside,” Ruby says sarcastically before pretending to barf.

“Don’t listen to her, Andy. Haters gonna hate no matter what you do,” Harper rolls her eyes before planting a big kiss on Andy’s lips.

“Are you two about done? We’ve got a game to play, or did you forget?” David scolds, waiting for Henry to give out the instructions.

It’s only after he’s made sure that everyone is in their seat and the room is quiet that he proceeds.

“I am not at liberty to say what will happen in this room for the next few hours. But I can tell you that should you follow our hosts’ commands, you will leave with your lives. Should you fail those orders, then death is but inevitable. Good luck to all.” He then stares up at the cameras and nods, before leaving the room and locking it behind him.

Once he’s gone, a second barely passes before we all feel our watches vibrate and ring out loud.

Ten of you entered this room, but only nine will leave it.

Play well or die.

“I fucking hate this room,” Ruby curses at the watch.

We don’t have to wait long for the echo of an incoming text to ring out in the room.

Big Mike stares at his watch, smiles, then shows the text he just received to the rest of the group.

Make Abigail cry.

“With pleasure.” He chuckles, before strutting over to where Abigail is sitting. I can see loathing in her gaze as he approaches her, but when he’s within arm’s reach, he doesn’t antagonize her like I expected and instead just stands there, staring at her with that stupid smug smile on his face.

My forehead creases as we all watch Abigail start to shake as if his gaze holds some kind of power over her. When he sees she’s close to her breaking point, I watch him mouth something to her. He’s too far away from me to be certain of what he utters, but it looks a lot like, “You loved it.”

The fuck is that all about?

Whatever the meaning behind the words, it does the trick of getting Abigail to start crying hysterically. Big Mike’s smile broadens, turning on his heel to walk back to his chair.

“Like stealing candy from a baby,” he sings before plopping his ass on his seat.

Rowen stares daggers at Big Mike while doing her best to console her friend.

“The fuck did you say to her?” Harper asks, not hiding what a piece of shit she thinks Big Mike is.

“Nothing that wasn’t true.” He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out and placing his hands behind his head.

“Careful there, Big Mike. I wouldn’t gloat too much,” I say coldly. “They say karma is a bitch. And sooner or later, she’s going to find you. Karma always finds assholes like you.”

“You mean like getting selected to participate in a game, where me and my friends are sure to die?” He scoffs. “I think karma already found my ass, idiot.”

But before I have time to give him my comeback, I hear another watch go off.

“No! No! I can’t!” Abigail cries, holding onto Rowen like she’s the only one who can help her.

“You can, Abbie. You can. Just breathe in. Breathe out. That’s good, Abbie. You’re doing so good.” Rowen takes her time in comforting her friend, uncaring of the text Abbie just received.

“What does the text say, Hawthorne?” David shouts, not as patient to delay the game from continuing as everyone else is.

But Rowen doesn’t answer him, preferring to tend to Abigail.

“You two are a pain in my ass,” David says before getting up from his seat, threatening to see the text himself.

“Sit the fuck down,” I growl.

He looks at me like he wants to murder me where everyone can see, but still, his need to survive the game at any cost forces him to sit down obediently.

“Are you good, Abbie? Do you think you can do this?” Rowen asks, using that sweet, melodic tone of hers.

“I don’t see how I have a choice,” she responds, wiping her tears away.

“We always have a choice. Even when it seems we don’t.”

I then watch as Rowen presses her hand over Abigail’s heart as if the two have a secret language all their own.

Abigail gives her a nod in understanding, looking more composed than she was a minute ago.

“This is my text,” she says, making sure that everyone in the room gets a good look at it.

Make Ruby Bleed

Ruby instantly jumps out of her seat, grabs her chair, and swings it in the air to defend herself against Abigail.

“You stay the hell away from me, Abbie! I mean it!”

“Don’t do something stupid, Ruby. You know the rules. You can’t touch her. Not unless The Scourge wants you to,” Mackenzie says while staring at her manicured nails as if they are far more entertaining than Ruby losing her mind.

“Shut up, Mack! I don’t care!”

“You don’t care?” Mackenzie laughs. “Of course you do. Think about it. Who can do more damage? The Scourge or little Abbie, here? I know who I’d be scared to face, and it’s not the girl who just cried her eyes out because Big Mike said something mean to her.”

“Mackenzie might, in fact, be the psycho in the room, but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong,” Harper chimes in, trying to help Abbie complete her assignment, even if that means helping Ruby.

Ruby listens to all their counsel but doesn’t let go of her chair just yet.

“I won’t hurt you, Ruby. I promise I won’t,” Abigail says, in that low whispered tone of hers.

Ruby looks at the instruments of pain all aligned on the table and sobs.

“I know you don’t want to, but I don’t see how you can prevent it.”

“Just put the chair down, and I’ll show you how. Just trust me, okay?”

“Do as she says, Ruby,” Rowen adds her own two cents to the situation.

“Just trust me,” Abigail continues to say, this time placing her hand on the chair to help Ruby put it back in its original spot. “Sit,” she adds, to which a nervous Ruby obliges. Once Ruby is settled in her seat, Abigail gives her a reassuring smile and asks for her hand.

“My hand?” Ruby stammers, to which Abigail nods. Nervously, Ruby places her hand in Abigail’s while we watch in stilled silence. Abigail then takes the butterfly brooch she had fastened on her cardigan and pricks Ruby’s finger until a small speck of blood drops to the tile floor.

“There, see?” Abigail smiles at a stunned Ruby before giving her a little kiss to the small prick on her finger. “All better now. Nothing to worry about.”

Ruby jumps from her chair again, only this time it isn’t to run away from her but to hug Abigail with all her might.

“Thank you, Abbie! Thank you!”

We all sit there in amazement at how Abigail’s quick thinking on her feet prevented true bloodshed from being spilled. But while everyone rejoices in the win, my eyes find Rowen again, knowing she was the one to give her young friend an out.

After both girls return to their seats, we don’t wait long for a new text to arrive.

This one is directed at Rowen, and when her troubled gaze meets mine, I realize I’m her target.

“What does it say?” I ask, but instead of responding, she stands up and approaches me, ready to show me the message herself.

Cut off a piece of flesh from Elias.

“So? What are you waiting for? Do it.” She stares at me like I’m insane.

“No. I can’t. I won’t.” She shakes her head.

“You can and you will. Stop fucking about and do as they say!” I order.

“No. I won’t do it. I still have a choice,” she retorts, meaning that she’d sacrifice herself to The Scourge instead of hurting me.

Like hell that’s happening.

I stand up, grab her arms, and slam her to my chest.

“That choice is not yours to make. Or did you forget that you still owe me a life?” I whisper, low enough for no one to overhear me.

“You… still… want to?” she stammers, unbelievingly. “I thought… I thought…”

“You thought fucking wrong. Now go and grab a fucking hunting knife from that table over there so we can start fucking cutting.”

When I see the order has snapped her out of her stupor, I release my grip from her arms so she can get on with it.

“Are you really going to let her cut you?” Big Mike asks as I watch Rowen walk over to the table in search of a hunting knife.

“I am,” I reply resolutely, to which he just laughs.

“I guess karma got you, too. Stings, doesn’t it?” He continues to chuckle.

But I tune the motherfucker out. I tune all of them out. They cease to exist to me at this moment.

None of them matter.

Only her.

All I care about is Rowen completing her mission.

That’s all that matters—Rowen surviving this.

“Now, what do I do?” she whispers after returning to me, needing my guidance to finish the job.

Just as she showed Abigail a way to complete her task, so will I help her with hers.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” Her eyes widen. “I’m not going to sit on your lap, Elias. Not in front of everyone, and certainly not here. This is not the time nor the place for your mercurial mind games,” she explains, insulted I would ask for such a thing.

But I’m not asking. I’m telling. No. I’m motherfucking ordering her to.

“Sit… on… my… lap,” I say through gritted teeth.

Rowen might be proud… she might even like to defy me once in a while, just to see how far she can take it… but she knows me well enough not to provoke me when I’m teetering on the edge of my sanity.

She takes a fortifying breath and sits down on my lap, still holding the hunting knife in her hand.

“You’re about to cut a piece of me off. I would think you’d be more pleased,” I tease while snaking a hand around her waist to cage her in.

“By the way you’ve been avoiding me these last few days, acting like I don’t even exist to you, maybe what I should cut out is your black heart from your chest.”

“Maybe you should,” I retort, breathing in her scent to simmer down the heart that always beats a little faster whenever she’s near.

“Don’t tease me. And don’t patronize me. Just show me what to do,” she says more confidently.

“You weren’t so eager to cut me a minute ago.”

“You hadn’t pissed me off yet.”

I let out a chuckle, surprising everyone in the room, including her.

“Does nothing faze you? I’m about to use this horrific-looking knife to cut you, and you look… you look—”

Happy?

The word is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t dare finish her sentence with it.

Even I’m still unclear why I’m only truly happy when I have Rowen in my arms. And right now is not the time to dissect why that is either.

“How about we put a pin on this conversation for later and tend to this first?”

She offers me a clipped nod in agreement. And like me, she proceeds to block out the entire room, preparing herself to do what needs to be done.

“Hold the knife tightly. For all intents and purposes, it needs to look like you’re the one doing the carving,” I say, wrapping my arm around hers and taking hold of her wrist. “Do you have a good grip on the handle?” I ask, moving her hand up and down gently by her wrist to gauge how easily I can guide her movements.

“I do,” she promises after realizing what my plan is.

“Good. Now look at me.”

She does as she’s told, and even though she’s pissed, when our eyes meet, she all but melts into me.

“Good girl.”

And before she knows what is happening, I guide her hand by the wrist to slice into my forearm to quickly cut out a piece of flesh.

“Holy shit!” I hear Andy holler as the dead flesh falls to the floor.

But I don’t look at him because all I see is her.

“It’s done, Roe. You did it. You can let go of the knife now,” I say softly, the sound of the hunting knife clattering against the tile floor echoing in the room.

“I didn’t do anything,” she replies, her gaze locked on mine, a mixture of disbelief and relief shining in her eyes as she realizes it’s finally over.

“It was your hand on the handle. Not mine.”

“A loophole.” She smiles. “Just like with Abbie and her brooch.”

“Exactly. You gave me the idea when you helped her out. I just followed your lead. It’s like you said… we still have a choice.”

“We still have a choice,” she repeats, her gaze falling to my lips.

The pain in my arm is nothing compared to the agony I feel from not being able to kiss her.

“We should talk… after… I mean,” she says, biting her lip.

“If by talking, you mean fucking, then yes, we definitely should.”

And when that pink hue appears so bright on her cheeks that it successfully hides her faint freckles, I groan.

“Go back to your seat, Roe. We still have a game to play.”

But instead of rushing to her seat, she leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you.”

My chest feels like it’s been cut wide open from the tender look she gives me before getting off my lap and walking back to her seat. I take a moment to collect myself, ignoring the catcalls and applause directed at me for enduring a little nick to my arm.

That shit will heal.

My heart, that’s a different story.

“I wonder who’s next?” Mackenzie asks to no one in particular.

“If they follow the order, I’m guessing Larsen,” David responds.

Yeah, I think so too.

But when my watch doesn’t go off, and Chris’s does, I’m as confused as everyone.

“What does it say, Chris?” Harper asks, but he only shows the text to Big Mike sitting beside him.

“Oh shit!” Big Mike spits out like he just read the funniest thing. “This is going to be good.”

Chris gets up from his seat and makes a beeline to Rowen.

I lean forward in my chair, not liking this one bit.

“What is it, Chris?” Rowen asks him sweetly, using that calm voice of hers.

“It will be quick, I promise,” he starts saying.

“What will be quick?” she counters, confused.

“Remember, this is just a game. None of this is real, okay? I’d never hurt you. You’re my friend.”

“Chris, you’re scaring me,” she says as he takes her by the hand and leads her to the center of the room.

“Don’t be scared, Rowen. Remember, it’s just a game. I’d never hurt you. You’re my friend,” he repeats like he’s stuck in a loop.

“Chris, what did the text say?” she asks again, this time more forcefully.

He shakes his head, not wanting to repeat whatever fucked up shit they ordered him to do.

“Just close your eyes. If you close your eyes, you can pretend you’re somewhere else. Just close your eyes, okay, Rowen? I promise I’ll be quick. I promise.”

I jump up from my seat and grab Big Mike by the lapel.

“What the fuck is he talking about?! What the fuck did they order him to do?!” I shout in his face.

“I’ll give you one guess,” Big Mike taunts just as Chris rips Rowen’s shirt off. “He has to fuck her. And you have to watch.”

“Chris! Don’t do this! Stop!” Rowen begs as she steps away from him.

“It’s just a game. It’s just a game,” he says, still sounding completely out of his mind.

“That’s right. It is just a game. And we don’t have to play if we don’t want to,” Rowen says, trying to bring Chris to the land of the mentally stable while holding her arms out to keep him a good distance away from her.

“But then we lose,” Chris replies, confused, taking another step toward her. “And if we lose… we die.”

“Not we. Just you,” I say from behind him before snapping his neck and killing him.

As Chris’s lifeless body thumps to the floor, the heavy silence in the room is shattered by Rowen’s sharp loud gasp and Big Mike’s threats.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Big Mike shouts, lunging at me only to be held back by Andy and David.

“Don’t do it, man,” David warns as Big Mike foams at the mouth to put his hands on me. “Don’t do it. The fucker will get his. Let The Scourge deal with him.”

My nostrils flare in contempt at them both, but it’s the disappointed glare in Andy’s eyes that fucking does me in. I turn my back to him, unwilling to meet that crestfallen look in his eyes, only to find Harper by Rowen’s side, clutching what remains of her torn shirt, giving me that same infuriating gaze. And when Rowen refuses to look at me, preferring to stare at the corpse at her feet, I lose my shit.

“What?!” I belt out, arms stretched as I spin around the room so everyone can get a good fucking look at me. “Look at me like I’m the villain all you want, but what I did was a mercy!”

“Mercy?” Harper cries incredulously. “How can you call what you just did mercy?”

“It was quick. It was painless. And he never saw me coming. If that isn’t mercy, I don’t know what is.”

Harper scowls at me, clearly prepared to challenge my reasoning, but holds back when she sees Rowen trying to speak.

“He… wasn’t well… his mind… playing tricks on him…. he didn’t… deserve this. He shouldn’t have died like this… not like this.”

And when she continues to look at Chris like she wishes she could change places with him, I eat up the distance between us, push Harper aside, and start shaking Rowen’s shoulders so she can snap the fuck out of her shock.

“Look at me! Look at me, goddamn it!” I shout, and it’s only when her pain-stricken hazel eyes meet mine that I lower my voice. “It had to be done. It had to be.” When she bows her head again, I give her a gentle shake. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he was going to hurt you. He was going to fucking hurt you, Roe. I couldn’t stand by and watch that shit happen. No way. No how.”

“It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t well. If you would have been more patient, I could have talked to him… stopped him… made him see reason.”

“He was dead already, Roe! His mind was so far gone, you wouldn’t have been able to say anything that would have made sense to him.”

“You don’t know that!” she rebukes, pushing me away from her. “You don’t know that! We found a loophole for Ruby. We found a loophole for me. If you had just been patient, we would have found one for Chris as well. He would still be alive if you had just let me help him!”

“He was going to fucking rape you!” I shout, frustrated that she refuses to acknowledge the real danger she was just in. When she shudders at the horrid word, I walk over to her again and cup her face in my palms. “I know it’s painful to hear, but that’s what he was going to do to you. No matter how you paint it in your mind, that is the truth.” I caress her pale cheeks with my thumbs and stare deep into her eyes. “I’ll say it again, and maybe this time you’ll hear me. Killing Chris was a mercy. It was quick. Clean and painless. And most importantly, he never saw his death coming. Do you think The Scourge would have been as merciful?”

Her tear-filled eyes look straight into mine, understanding finally dawning on her.

“Twelve are chosen, but only one survives,” she mumbles to herself as if remembering that the real culprits at play here are the ones hidden behind their cameras.

Chris was dead the minute his name was called during the Harvest Festival. Either by my hand or by theirs, his life was already forfeited.

But before I can say anything else, we all feel our watches vibrate and then ring.

Today’s game has come to its completion.

However, break our rules again,

and we will not be as lenient.

Rowen’s fearful gaze meets mine, knowing exactly what this means.

If one of us so much as goes against our Hosts’ instructions again or throws a wrench into the works of their macabre games, they’ll satiate their hunger for blood and destruction in more vicious ways.

And if today’s games are any indication, their depraved imagination for chaos and suffering knows no bounds.