Insatiable (Inferno Games #3)

23. Watching From Above

23

WATCHING FROM ABOVE

ROWENA

P regnancy sickness forced me back into my room, but nothing can keep me away from watching everything going on in the Earthery below. We’ve all been offered snacks of popcorn, which is the first food any of us have had that hasn’t had anything to do with the games. I brought mine back to my room where I’ve hunkered down with my Hell Cell, watching the trial play out on that rather than the big screen surrounded by people that view it as entertainment rather than the nightmare it is. The screen hops between the contestants so my view of the people I care about is fragmented, but my heart lurches every time it shows Quinn or Felix.

Nausea churns in my stomach and the popcorn isn’t helping. It’s late and most of the contestants have fallen asleep. Two are already dead, and not from starvation like George had warned. My heart had been in my throat when Quinn stumbled upon David’s body, though the Hell Cell conveniently skipped the part where he was actually killed. They never show the whole truth.

I focus on Felix, one of the few still wandering the dark labyrinth, his movements calculated and steady. He found water and food early on, and somehow has yet to face any of the creatures or traps the others have encountered. Luck? Or is Anthura still pulling strings for him behind the scenes? I don’t know, and that’s what unsettles me the most. My pulse quickens as I watch, unsure if any of this is real. It’s frighteningly easy for them to warp what I’m seeing, to bend the truth into something darker. How much of this is real, and how much is just another layer of their twisted game?

I’m so exhausted that my eyes keep fluttering shut, but it’s only when Felix finally stops and lays down on a patch of earth and closes his eyes that I finally sleep.

It’s late into the night, or maybe early in the morning, when a knocking on my door wakes me from a fitful sleep. My eyes dart to my Hell Cell that’s still playing out the events in the Earthery, but it seems to be all quiet there at the moment, or at least, they are only showing the quiet parts.

Fear grips me tightly, despite the relative safety of my room. No monsters can reach me here, but a messenger could, bearing the news I dread most—news that Quinn or Felix is dead.

“Who is it?” I call, my voice shaky.

“Babes, let me in.” Juliette. I open the door to find her standing there, eyes rimmed with dark circles, her face drawn and exhausted.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” she asks softly.

I nod, too weary to question her. As I rummage for a pair of pajamas, she shuffles toward the bathroom, and I call out, “I fell asleep a couple of hours ago. Anything else happen?”

The bathroom door creaks open just enough for her voice to slip through. “David’s dead. One of the girls too. Anita something. He was murdered. I don’t know about her… they didn’t show it.”

I wince at her words, even though I already knew. Two more names etched into the growing list of the lost. A twinge of guilt flickers in my chest—relief, selfish and cold, that it wasn’t Quinn or Felix. They’re still safe. For now, at least.

I shuffle over to make space as Juliette slips into bed beside me. She sighs heavily, her voice low. “I just left Dade. I had to stay with him or I’d have come to bed earlier. He’s mad. I’ve never seen him so crazy. I thought he was going to do something stupid.”

I shrug, pulling the blanket higher around us. “What isn’t stupid here? He’s fought demons before and survived. Maybe you should have let him.”

Juliette gives a small, tired laugh, but it’s strained. “I know that. But I couldn’t bear the thought of Quinn going through all that while her boyfriend ends up being eaten by a demon or something.” She pauses, rubbing her eyes. “Besides, we all have enough going on without adding more stress. I waited until he looked too exhausted to do anything, then walked him to his room. Do you want these?”

I glance over and catch Juliette eyeing the leftover popcorn in the box.

“Go ahead, have it,” I offer. “If I eat it, I’ll just throw it all up tomorrow, anyway.”

Juliette doesn’t need to be told twice. She grabs the box and tips it, letting the popcorn spill straight into her mouth, sending stray kernels scattering all over the bed. Out of nowhere, she says, “I shouldn’t have left things with Tomas the way I did. In my mind, we had forever. How stupid is that?”

I brush the kernels off the bed and snuggle up beside her, trying to give her some comfort. “We’ve been manipulated since the second we entered Hell. Tomas wasn’t even supposed to be here, but he came anyway. Quinn got letters. I got letters…”

“And I got Tomas,” she sighs deeply.

“I think maybe you were the luckiest of us all,” I say softly. “The letters sent to Quinn and me were meant to break us. Maybe Tomas being here was meant to break you, but you found the closure in death that you never found in life.”

Juliette leans against me, her voice quieter now. “I’m so glad I found you here. I don’t think I would’ve made it through all this without you.”

I hold her a little tighter. “Get some sleep. We don’t want to miss whatever hellish thing they have planned for tomorrow.”

She’s silent for a while, and I think she’s fallen asleep, but then her voice breaks the stillness again.

“If Tomas was sent here to break me, why was Tate brought here? She shouldn’t have been able to enter the games either. As far as I know, she doesn’t know anyone here besides Tomas.”

I think for a moment, then say, “Maybe she did exactly what the leadership team wanted her to do.”

Juliette frowns. “What do you mean?”

“She made you jealous. And for a long time, it worked. It wasn’t Tomas who was your horrible letter. It was Tate, all along. And I bet she has no idea that she’s just a pawn.”

The twin beeping of Juliette’s and my Hell Cells fills the air, sending a spike of adrenaline through my veins. My heart races as I grab my Hell Cell from beneath my pillow.

A text message flashes across the screen, one sent to all of us.

IG LEADERS: DAY TWO: 8 CONTESTANTS LEFT.

I rub my eyes, stifling a yawn. I already knew that, of course, but I guess the ear-piercing shriek of the Hell Cells was the game’s way of ensuring no one missed the update—whether we wanted to hear it or not.

“God, I hope we get more popcorn today,” Juliette mutters, shaking the empty box as if it might miraculously refill itself.

“They’re awake,” I say, pointing the Hell Cell screen toward her. “How long do you think this will go on for?”

Juliette taps something into her own Hell Cell, her brows furrowing in concentration. Then suddenly, her eyes widen. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“People can live up to three weeks without food.”

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of that statement settle over me like a suffocating blanket. Three weeks. I can’t go through this for three weeks.

“But they can only survive a few days without water,” she adds quickly, as if offering some kind of twisted reassurance.

“There’s water in there. Felix found a stream pretty early on, and I saw Tomas drinking from a pail. The only food I saw was that cake, though. I don’t think they’re going to let them die quickly. Water isn’t the issue.”

“Urgh,” Juliette groans, flopping back against the pillows. “This sucks.”

I nod grimly. “But someone in there is killing them off, so it probably won’t last as long as we think.”

Juliette’s face darkens. “It’s just like back in Purgatory. We never found out who it was then. We never figured out who sent those letters, either.”

“No.” Quinn said it was Anthura, but then Hades corrected her. I almost snigger at the thought of Anthura being framed, like she’d even care.

“I’m going downstairs to see if they are giving us more food. Do you want to come?”

I shake my head. I can’t bear watching the Earthery on the big screen.

When Juliette leaves, I turn my attention back to the Hell Cell. Anthura’s smug face fills the screen, speaking directly into the camera outside the Earthery. Despite my instinct to mute her grating voice, I turn the volume up.

“…the throes of day two. Only eight contestants are left. Yesterday they had cake; what will they find inside the labyrinth today?”

The scene cuts to one of the contestants I don’t know well, sprinting through the labyrinth as if speed alone will save him. I almost want to shout at the screen— there’s nothing chasing you, and running will only waste precious calories! —but there’s no point. He can’t hear me.

Next, the feed shifts to Tate, kneeling by the stream Felix found yesterday, filling a pot with water.

“Good girl,” I think, mentally cheering her on, though I know Juliette wouldn’t share the sentiment. It’s not that I want anyone to die. Quite the opposite—I want them all to win, to make it out alive. No one in the Earthery deserves an agonizing death. I just want Felix and Quinn to survive more than the others.

They’re my priority, but my heart twists with guilt, knowing that rooting for them means hoping someone else falls.

The camera cuts away from Tate and focuses on a group of three contestants huddled together, whispering furtively. I lean forward, straining to hear their conversation, but the audio is too muffled. Their shifty eyes and tense body language suggest they're plotting something, perhaps an alliance or a trap for the others.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rips through the labyrinth, causing them to scatter like startled rabbits. The feed switches to another camera, revealing a young woman writhing on the ground, clutching her stomach. Blood seeps through her fingers, staining her tattered clothing a dark crimson.

My heart races as I watch helplessly, silently praying for her suffering to end swiftly. The camera lingers on her contorted face, capturing every excruciating moment. Finally, her body goes still, her eyes glazing over, and then the Hell Cell goes dark. Panic surges through me. I shake the device, then check the other apps; everything works fine except for the live feed from the Earthery. With my heart pounding in my chest, I leap out of bed, hastily pulling on the first dress I find. I sprint out the back door and call the platform, watching it rise slowly before me. Impatience ignites my urgency, and as soon as I step on, I’m slamming the button with my foot, willing it to move faster.

The atrium and canteen are packed tightly with emaciated demons, and it takes me a few minutes to push through the crowd to reach the canteen. For the first time since entering Gluttony, I catch a scent that isn’t just donuts and sulfur; there’s the unmistakable smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air. As I spot Juliette in our usual booth, I notice a plate of breakfast in front of her. It’s a mark of her fear that she’s not cramming bacon into her mouth, her eyes glued to the dark screen above us.

“What’s happening?” I ask, sliding into the seat next to her.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. No one has told us anything,” she replies, her voice tense.

Before I can respond, a gruff voice growls from behind me. “These murders weren’t part of the plan.” I turn to see Dade slipping into our booth opposite us. He looks dreadful—dark circles under his eyes betray a sleepless night, and his pallor is alarming.

He beckons us closer, and I lean so far forward that my nose is almost buried in the mountain of bacon on the table between us. Dade shifts his glance to the sides, ensuring we’re not being overheard. The other people in this level seem oblivious, too engrossed in the sheer joy of food for the first time in what feels like ages, cramming it into their mouths like a wild food orgy.

“I spent the night sneaking around, listening to the demons,” he starts, but he’s cut off by Juliette.

“I took you to your room so you would sleep,” she admonishes.

“I can’t sleep knowing Quinn is in danger. I won’t sleep until I know she’s safe.”

“It can take three weeks to starve to death,” I interject. “Juliette looked it up. May I remind you that you may look like a demon, but you’re still human. You won’t help Quinn by killing yourself.” I push the plate of bacon toward him. “At least have some breakfast.”

He manages a sad smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“We all should eat, and then tell us what you found out,” I insist, nudging the plate closer to him.

Dade hesitates, glancing from the food to our worried faces, then finally picks up a piece of bacon and takes a tentative bite. “Alright, alright. You win,” he mumbles, chewing slowly. “You eat too. I’m not stealing a pregnant woman’s food.”

I don’t want to eat. The little food I’ve managed to keep down since being here has ended up in the bottom of a toilet bowl thanks to morning sickness. Yet, as I take a bite of the bacon, my stomach settles just a bit. Juliette hands us both a knife and fork, and between us, we share the massive plate of breakfast food.

“What did you hear?” I finally ask, keeping my voice low enough to avoid attracting attention.

Dade’s pale face darkens, and his eyes flash with intensity. I can see Quinn’s appeal in him, though he’s too dark for my taste. I almost shiver when he speaks. “The Games leaders are in a state of panic. They don’t actually want the contestants being killed off so quickly. The point was to watch them slowly starve to death. Apparently, that’s more fun for the people here, though I can’t think why. George planned this to last a couple of weeks at least, but now they are dropping like flies. That’s probably why the screens are off.”

Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, the screen goes back on. A cheer erupts among the people, but as Quinn’s face looks back at us in terror, I can’t find anything to cheer about.

“I can’t watch this here. I’m going back up to the room.” I look to Juliette as she stands up to follow me. Then my eyes turn to Dade. He looks dangerous. Manic. There’s something dark come over him like a mask. “You want to come up to my room too?” I ask tentatively.

He shakes his head, his face turned down into a grimace, and though I care about him on some level, I’m almost relieved when he says no.

This is hard enough without watching Dade give in to his demons.