Deviant

Chapter 33

Elias

As I sit in the dimly lit den, the crackling of the fireplace barely masks the crushing weight of this afternoon’s revelations hanging over us. Rowen’s head rests heavily on my lap, her eyes closed while soft breaths escape her lips—a bittersweet reminder of the warmth we once shared when everything felt whole… normal. Or as normal as it could ever feel in this house.

I continue to stroke her hair, letting the rhythmic motion bring both of us a fragile sense of comfort amidst the horrors we bore witness to earlier. She’s said less than a few words since we’ve returned, and it’s fucking killing me how I can’t take her pain away; all I can do is make her comfortable.

I mean, how will I ever be able to erase the image of her mom being brutalized in such a way? Even I can’t unsee that shit. It feels like every time I close my eyes, I’m watching Sarah being gangraped and violated all over again. The shit Rowen’s mom suffered… will forever be branded in my brain and haunt me for eternity.

And the fuckers intended for Rowen to suffer a similar fate like her mother’s, using Chris to do their dirty work.

Hate doesn’t even come close to describing what I feel for these pricks.

But worse than having seen highlights of such depravity and cruelty, is knowing that this is just sport to them… to the men who have held Blackwater Falls hostage for over a century.

I don’t know what pisses me off more.

Knowing that some rich fucks are profiting from us dying on camera or the assholes who pay millions to watch.

It’s all so fucked.

I mean, I knew this was always just a perverse game to them, but I never realized we were actually stuck in a game.

However, once I realized this was just a money-making scheme to our illustrious hosts, I finally understood why they waited until now to select me for the Harvest Dozen. I always knew there had to be a reason why they never chose me before. I honestly assumed it was because of my lack of morals. That they preferred their Harvest Dozen pure and unblemished. The alternative could have been that The Scourge believed me to be too much of a risk. That I might be psychotic enough to seek revenge if they ever made the mistake of choosing me as a candidate. Whatever their reasonings, I was just glad that it was one less thing I had to worry about. So even as the entire town of Blackwater Falls gave me snide looks and whispered behind my back, wondering what secret I had that kept me from being selected, I did my best to ignore it.

But now I see that I should have paid them better attention.

In their minds, I was the best contender for the games, and if I had allowed myself to really give it some serious thought, maybe I would have realized sooner that being the best was precisely the reason The Scourge never picked me—it would hurt their bottom line.

Fuckers.

The only reason why I’m here is that damn note that I threw down the well.

I’m no threat to you.

I have no intention of winning your fucked up games.

All I want is to kill Rowen Hawthorne.

Her death by my hand will be prize enough.

That is my secret.

Do with it what you will.

I basically signed my own death sentence with that note. They’ll never allow me to win this game. Not when the game is rigged for me to lose.

Funny how I never thought about my own survival until today. My blinding need for revenge had been so strong that all I wanted was to kill the girl who took my sister from me. And now that that same girl holds my heart in her hands, the probability of us both leaving this house alive feels like a pipe dream.

One of us will die… if not both.

I haven’t gathered up the courage to gauge if death by my hand is still what Rowen most desires. It’s a question that has been plaguing me for longer than it should. But tonight isn’t the night we should have that discussion either. Not when her mind is trapped reliving all the horrors her mother went through.

I’m not sure why Sarah felt the need to volunteer for the games, but I know the reason why she never came home. She could have never faced her daughter after everything she had experienced and done. Too much bloodshed had been spilled by her hand. Too much depravity and trauma had been experienced by her body, mind, and soul.

That’s what this game does to you…

It takes good honest people and turns them into deviants.

“What’s wrong with you two? You’ve been acting all sorts of weird tonight,” Harper asks opposite us as she sits on Andy’s lap on the sofa.

“Is it about tomorrow’s games?” Andy asks, thankfully giving us a way out.

One thing that both Rowen and I agreed on before we came upstairs was not to share our findings with anyone.

‘If we take away their hope, we take away their reason to live and fight.’

Those were the last words she said before we met everyone in the dining hall.

That was two hours ago.

“So, is it?” Andy repeats, reminding me he’s waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” I nod, still staring at the girl who’s turned my life upside down.

“Figured,” Andy retorts, “I hate to say it, but I’m a little on edge myself.”

“Oh, babe,” Harper coos, peppering his face with kisses. “Don’t be worried. It will all be okay.”

I don’t chime in to tell her that nothing about this situation is okay. That though it may appear that we are safe and snug in this den, death looms over us all. We just don’t know when it will strike. It could be tomorrow, or during the next game in three days. Or maybe we’ll get taken out during a group game—who the hell knows? All I do know is that none of this is fucking okay

“I once read in a magazine,” Harper whispers softly to Andy, “that when a person’s body dies, we have roughly about seven to ten minutes of brain activity left. The article said that during that small window of time, there’s a belief that all our memories come back to us as if we’re watching our life play out on a movie screen. I found the article oddly comforting, because that means I get to see everyone I ever loved one more time. And when my time comes, I hope the last face I get to see is yours.”

“I fucking love you, Harper. So much,” Andy says emotionally, grabbing his girlfriend by the nape and kissing her like his very life depends on it.

I lower my gaze from them and glance over at my doe-eyed girl who is currently staring at her friends with tears in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” I say, gently lifting her head from my lap and guiding her to sit on it instead. I wipe the tears from her eyes and pull her close, whispering in her ear, “The only certainty we have is today. We’re alive right now. Save your tears, Roe. Save them for later. Just enjoy the little time we have together.”

She pulls away from my embrace, staring at me with such intense emotion in her eyes that I almost mistake it for love.

But that can’t be right.

If she loved me, she wouldn’t demand that I kill her.

She wouldn’t dare ask me to do such a thing.

Not when my heart fucking bleeds for her.

Fuck.

How the fuck did we get here?

How did it get this fucked up?

And how the fuck can we get ourselves out of such a tangled mess?

“I don’t know,” she says as if reading my every thought. “We just have to find a way. Together.”

My heart tightens as I catch the flicker of gold flecks in her brown-green eyes staring back at me.

“You two do that a lot, you know?” I hear Harper say to us.

“Do what?” Rowen asks, her arms wrapped around my neck, as her head nestles on my shoulder, turning slightly to face her friend.

“Read each other’s thoughts. Finish each other’s sentences. It’s like you share the same brain or something. I read this other article once—”

“I never pegged you as much of a reader, blondie,” I interject, wondering what new factoid she’s going to dump on us next.

“Ha ha, very funny.” She rolls her eyes at me. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, I once read an article about a study involving couples. In the study, those who finished each other’s sentences—like you two do—were considered to have such a strong bond and being so in sync, that the researchers labeled them as having found the one. ”

“Hmm. How do you feel about that, Roe? Do you think you’ve found the one ?” I tease, but when her cheeks turn pink, my heart stops.

Fuck.

“I found my one, and we don’t finish each other’s sentences,” Andy says, tickling Harper.

“Well, that’s because no one in their right mind could ever be able to decipher what goes on in that crazy head of yours.” She knocks on his head, laughing.

“Babe, I’m a man with a one-track mind. You don’t need to be a genius to know what I’m thinking twenty-four-seven with you around.” He wiggles his brows.

“And on that note,” I say, picking Roe in my arms and getting us off the sofa. “We’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait,” Rowen says, forcing me to plant her feet on the floor.

“We need to check on Abbie first.”

“Oh, she’s fine. I checked on her before dinner. FYI, you’ll never guess who I saw leaving her room?” Harper gossips.

“Who?” Rowen questions, somewhat intrigued.

“Ruby.” Harper giggles. “She said she was only there to drop some chicken soup for her, but I think it was just an excuse to see Abbie. Looks like Ruby might have a little crush on her.”

I notice Rowen’s forehead wrinkle in distrust, but she doesn’t disclose why the idea of Ruby having a little crush on Abbie worries her.

“Okay, then. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” She waves to our friends.

“Good night. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Andy jokes as he proceeds to tickle his girlfriend just to hear her laugh to his heart’s content.

Rowen and I walk back upstairs, both of us reluctant to discuss what we’ve learned about the games or her mother’s role in them.

Knowing that she needs me to be her safe port, I lead her to our bathroom and run her a hot bath. She doesn’t say anything as I peel the clothes off her body, followed by mine, and then help her into the tub, with me sitting right behind her. I tend to her hair first, then use the loofah to wash the rest of her body, Rowen never uttering a word throughout the whole process.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, her head finding her spot on my chest after I’ve finished.

“No.”

“Do you need a breather?”

She looks up at me, tears forming at the corner of her eyes before nodding.

Ever so carefully, I turn her around to face me until she’s straddling my waist.

Knowing that now is not the time for a fast, hard fuck, I kiss her nice and slow, letting my tongue tease its way into her mouth and tempt her to kiss me back. Tears stream down her cheeks as I deepen our kiss, coaxing her to wrap her arms around my neck and let my hand travel up and down the slope of her back while the other holds her steady by the hip. When I feel her body begin to melt with mine, I lower her down onto my hard shaft, a relieved little sigh escaping her lips.

I’ve never made love to a woman. I never felt the need for it.

But as I guide her body to do my will, I get the feeling that this must be what it’s like when a man shows his undying devotion to the woman that he loves.

And as we stare deep into each other’s eyes, our temples pressed together in a kiss, I realize that The Scourge might have its many appalling faults, but I’ll be in its debt anyway.

Because it gave me her.

It gave me my doe-eyed girl.

And now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.

I won’t give her up for The Scourge.

Not even for the sake of my misplaced revenge.

And certainly not to grant her the death that she so desires.

Nothing will stand in the way of me and the woman I love.

Nothing.

Not even Rowen.

The next morning, Henry takes us back to the boarding room and gives us his usual spiel about sitting next to our partners before the Hosts choose who gets to go down into the basement. Once he gives the cameras a nod, we hear six watches ding with the following text.

You have been selected to attend the fourth game.

Play well.

Of course, I’m not surprised when Rowen and I get picked for this round. After the last group challenge, there was no way they would leave me and Rowen out of it. Not after I broke one of their rules by killing Chris.

But it’s who they chose to come down with us that really sets me on edge.

Mackenzie and David got a text—which fuck them, I don’t give a shit either way—but so did Andy and Harper.

I can feel the wave of fear that comes off Rowen the minute Harper showed her the text.

“You have been chosen. I will return within the hour to fetch you for the games. Please take this opportunity to say your goodbyes, as it may be the last chance you will ever get,” Henry says somberly before retreating out of the room.

This time, I don’t take Rowen into the broom closet to get a little loving from her. She wouldn’t be in the mood anyway. Not when our friends’ lives are on the line.

“It’s okay, Abbie. We’ll be fine,” Harper says as an inconsolable Abbie begins to cry, seeing her two friends’ heads on the butcher’s block.

“I hope some of those tears are for me too,” Andy jokes, but it only makes Abbie cry harder.

My jaw clenches when Henry returns, needing to fulfill his orders to take us six downstairs and endure whatever hell awaits us there. Both Harper and Rowen walk hand in hand, doing their best not to cry in front of each other, while Andy and I walk ahead, positioning ourselves between a cheerful Mackenzie and an overeager David.

“If anything happens to me,” Andy chokes out, low enough for Harper not to overhear, “I need you to promise me you’ll look after Harper.”

I nod, my jaw ticking nonstop.

“Fuck. I really thought you’d say that nothing is going to happen to me.” He laughs nervously.

“Would it make you feel better if I lied to you?” I ask, his poor betting statistics suddenly flashing before my very eyes.

“No. I guess not,” he mumbles, crestfallen.

His sad puppy dog eyes have my back molars clenching so tightly it physically hurts to look at him.

By the time we approach the painted doors, I’m all wound up and ready to hit something.

“So, are we doing this or what?” I blurt out, pissed, gaining a peculiar stare from the group.

But when Henry doesn’t pull out the sticks that will determine who chooses which door, my already frayed nerves take a nosedive.

“Henry? Aren’t you forgetting something?” David asks, but just as the question slips his tongue, our watches start to ding.

One quick glance at my watch, and I see that both Rowen and I are in the black room. Any other day that would have been music to my ears. But not today. Not when I know The Scourge loves a good mindfuck.

“We got the black room,” Rowen tells the others, her gaze fixed on Harper.

“Damn it, we got the red room,” David announces, less than overjoyed.

My hands ball into fists when Andy shows me his watch.

“That leaves us with the white room.”

“Fuck no!” I yell. “They get the black room, and Rowen and I will take the white!” I order, staring at Henry.

“I’m sorry, Master Larsen—”

“Don’t fucking sorry me, Henry! I gave you an order. They take our room, and we take theirs.”

“Is it possible, Henry?” Rowen backs me up, her voice strangled from the tears she’s trying not to shed. “Can we switch?”

Of course, Rowen would be fine putting herself in harm’s way for her friends. Our statistics as a pair aren’t the greatest, but as long as we follow whatever rules they want, I’m sure I can beat them at their own game.

Andy and Harper, on the other hand, don’t stand a chance.

“I’m sorry, Master Larsen, Lady Hawthorne. My hands are tied. Those are the rules.”

“Fuck your rules! What’s to stop us from walking out of here right now?!” I shout, anger fueling my every word.

“You have your free will to do what you feel you must,” Henry explains. “Just as long as you know that every action has its consequences. The games must continue, and I must remind you that there are still three candidates upstairs that our Hosts could replace you with.”

“Abbie,” Rowen whispers under her breath.

“No!” Harper shouts. “Not Abbie. She’s been through enough as it is. Rowen, look at me,” she urges, grabbing Rowen’s arms to pull her closer. “We all knew this day would come. The minute they selected us as The Harvest Dozen, we knew what that meant. It’s okay. I promise you,” Harper says, no longer able to keep her tears at bay. “And who knows, maybe Andy and I will make it. But even if we don’t, I want you to know that being your friend these last two weeks has been one of the best gifts I’ve ever had. And I’m just sorry that we didn’t get to know each other sooner. I love you, Rowen.” Rowen lets out a loud sob as she wraps her arms around Harper, both girls crying their hearts out.

“God, you are such girls. Let’s get on with it,” Mackenzie utters, bored.

“Mackenzie, if you say another word, what awaits you behind that door will seem like child’s play compared to what I will do to you.”

“Rawr!” she teases, pretending to be a cat with her claws out to scratch me.

I ignore the psycho and focus my attention on saying goodbye to my friends. Harper then comes over to me while Rowen clings to Andy, sobbing her goodbye.

“Listen, I love that girl with all my heart. But if you ever hurt her, alive or dead, I’ll come looking for you.”

“I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“Good.” She relaxes, but then whispers in my ear, “Keep her and Abbie away from Big Mike, okay?”

I don’t have too much time to process her meaning because Andy comes over to me next.

“So,” he starts nervously, while kicking the air at his feet. “I guess since you’re all alpha and shit, this means all we say is ‘see ya’, huh?”

I pull him into a bear hug, his scrawny chest hitting mine.

“I’m not fucking good at this, so if I fuck it up, don’t hold it against me,” I start, before taking a deep breath. “I never liked my brother. He was a prick, just like our father. To me, it always felt like we were more competition than brothers. But here, when we’re actually competing for our lives, I found a kid who has been more of a brother to me than my own flesh and blood.”

“I knew I’d be your first,” he half laughs half cries.

We pull away from our hug, wiping our tears with our sleeves, knowing exactly what we feel for each other.

Rowen slides beside me, her eyes swollen red, just like Harper’s.

“Are you pussies about done? Can we start now?” David mumbles aggravated.

“You ready?” I ask Andy.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” he replies, gently kissing away Harper’s tears. “See you on the other side, brother.” With a final salute, he and Harper wave us goodbye before opening their white door and stepping inside.

I take Rowen’s hand and follow Andy’s cue.

When we step into the black room, it’s clear how it got its name. All four walls are painted black, and the only source of light is a single chandelier hanging overhead, casting a warm glow over two lounge chairs and a small table. There is a circular dartboard perfectly centered on the wall opposite the lounge chairs, and as we approach, we notice two boxes beside the table, each containing five darts.

When our watches start to vibrate and ring out, I remember that somewhere in this dark room are those pesky cameras that just fucking love to watch us. When I glance over to the watch and see the text, I throw both my middle fingers in the air.

The first to hit bullseye wins.

Play well.

“We have to play, Elias. All the challenges have to be done before they unlock the doors, remember?” Rowen reminds me, sounding absolutely exhausted as well as defeated.

“We tried,” I grumble, picking up a dart and handing her one.

“I know.” She bows her head.

I grip the dart tightly, my hand trembling as I aim for the board, hating that I don’t know what’s happening in the next room. Rowen stands beside me, her eyes darting between the dartboard and the door, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. With every throw, I can’t shake the dread pooling in my stomach. We both know our friends are fighting for something far more important than this fucking game The Scourge has us playing. It almost feels like they are taunting us. I steal a glance at Rowen and find her just as dejected as I feel.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat.

And if The Scourge is all about torture and mind games, then they sure have us beat.

This is a fucking doozie.

Playing a fucking bar game while our friends fight for their lives disgusts me.

“How long has it been?” Rowen asks, her heart just not in it to even pretend she wants to play this stupid ass game.

“I don’t know. Half an hour? Maybe a little more.”

“I can’t lose another friend. Not like this,” she whispers.

“Hey, hey, hey, come here,” I order softly, wrapping my arms around her. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Together, okay?”

She nods and lets me kiss her, even though it’s not enough to ease her worry.

“Elias, can you just hit the bullseye already? Please?”

I nod and throw the dart right at its center, causing the dartboard to flip around, announcing the end to the game.

I bring her to sit on my lap on the chair as we wait for the sound of the door unlocking.

“Elias,” she says, her head nestled on my chest. “I just remembered something.”

“What did you remember, baby?”

“I remembered that when we played truth or dare in the red room, Mackenzie and David played the same game in this very room. The only difference was that their game had no real consequences to it even if they lied. Meanwhile, Lucas and Lucy played another version of truth or dare, and their stakes were even higher than ours. I guess what I’m asking is… if we just played a game of darts… what sick game are our friends playing?”

However, before I can even attempt to process that loaded question, we hear the lock to our door click open. We both jump from our seat and dash toward the door, my hand at the knob swinging it open in record time.

But the second I swing the door open, Rowen falls to her knees in hysterical wails and tears.

Because before us is Andy, leaning against the door with Harper’s blood all over him.