What the actual fuck just happened to me last night? He was so fucking awful, taking complete control over my body and forcing it to respond to him so deliciously. Why the fuck did I enjoy it so much?
I really want to hate him. Itâs nothing short of sexual assault and yet my pussy is still soaked for him, the next morning. Everything within me begs for him to continue making me feel so good in the worst way possible.
Am I broken? Why do I want him to force me again?
Iâve spent my whole life running from men who force themselves upon my body and yet with Death, itâs different. I must be fucking insane. I know full well that Death intends far worse things on me than any mortal man ever did. And Iâm not stupidâ this isnât some fairytale situation where he would stop if I told him to. There is no safe word. There is no escape from him. And yet this thought fills me with too much excitement.
Peeling the material of my jumpsuit from my skin, the usual flash of fear and anxiety of somebody seeing me naked isnât as prominent as before. Perhaps itâs from the exhaustion clouding my mind and body. Or maybe Death has fucked the common sense out of me.
I feel alert the entire time my skin is on display, and that deep throbbing of panic from revealing my scars to the world. My eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to watch myself.
My stomach growls in hunger, forcing me out of the safety of my room and into the communal area. I pray to be left alone. Lord knows I need it after the week Iâve had and the sinful things Death has done to my body, but I guess the big guy doesnât grant wishes to murderers.
âOh, hey!â Prey Three spots me as soon as I slip out of the room. He peers up from his tinned food in his lap and gives me his best smile, but it is not as prominent as before. Something has snapped within his demeanour since starting these trials. Not that I can blame him.
âHi,â I respond quietly before heading over to my cabinet and grabbing the spam-looking tin out of it. I fish around for a fork before taking a seat on the chair opposite him. Even though I want to retreat to my room and be alone, something in his face tells me he needs a conversation. At least thereâs somebody to talk to in these God-forsaken trials.
âHow is your leg?â
I grit my teeth and run my fingers around the wound. I refused to look at it whilst changing but it wasnât agonising pulling a new jumpsuit over it so that must count for something.
âFine, I guess. How are you feeling?â
âShattered,â a dry laugh falls from his lips. He then points his head at the furthest door. âHave you heard from Prey One yet? I havenât seen him since the last trial.â
I shake my head.
Shuffling around in his seat, Prey Three shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth before looking at me. âHe looked fucked. I wouldnât be surprised if he didnât make it through the night.â
âYou think?â
âYeah,â he sighs. Then, his demeanour suddenly changes. âWhat do you think that means for us?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âLike what do you think is next? Will we have to fight each other or something because I donât think Iâll be able to do thatââ
âIf we have to fight one another, you fight.â I give him a stern look. âTake no mercy on me.â
âIÂ canât, you just remind me so much ofââ
âCarolina?â the lump in my throat burns.
His whole face twists sadly. âBoth of you are distant like youâre always away in a different world.â
Nausea rises in my chest, and I choke on my breath. âPrey Threeââ
âItâs Harley. Donât call me Prey Three. If Iâm going to die soon, I want at least one more person to know me for me, not my awful crimes or my shitty situation after death.â
âHarley,â I test the name out quietly. The room feels tense with suspense and uncertainty. I almost donât break the silence but that nagging sensation within me forces me to speak before I can stop myself. âMy name is Scarlet.â
âScarlet.â A small smile teases his lips. âItâs a beautiful name.â
Scarlet, named after the colour of blood. The colour stained my skin in front of my husband and his friends.
âThanks.â
âSo, Scarlet, any fighting tips you want to teach me orââ He chuckles darkly.
âYeah, aim for the heart.â It wasnât meant to be funny, but he laughs anyway.
âI guess I can be grateful that you didnât keep that knife in the end, right?â he continues using humour as a mechanism to hide his anxiety and I let him. I offer him a lopsided smile, almost revelling in his lightening of the mood.
He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. âThese games are bullshit, arenât they? Iâve only just realised that even if I die, Iâm still staying in Hell. My soul is too stained to go anywhere else.â
I ponder on this thought for a while. âI guess but we were going to Hell no matter what so we might as well get a deal out of it too.â
He chews on his bottom lip anxiously. It only just hits me that I donât know what he wants to do with his win. âWhat is your deal going to be?â
He pauses. A long silence drifts around the room before he looks back at me with sorrowful eyes. âI want to apologise to my family.â
I frown. âFor what?â
âI should have gone down in the cave with them. You know, the one from my trialââ he takes a shaky breath and loses himself in the memory. âWe missed our original spot at taking the tour of Dadâs work because I was throwing a tantrum. Didnât want to go ââ He chokes up on his breath and stares off into the distance. A slight tremble takes hold of his body and his bottom lip wobbles. Just before any tears can fall, he looks at me and inhales sharply. âJust one apology, thatâs all I want, then Iâll die happy.â
âHarleyââ the words are snatched from my lips. How can I console him when Iâm actively competing against him? Iâm the reason that he will not get his apology. There is nothing I can do or say which will make this situation better. So, I stay quiet, and the guilt gnaws at me.
âBut donât worry about me, Scarlet.â He forces himself to be strong. âI never thought Iâd be able to win these trials. I guess I agreed to join just to punish myself for all the wrong Iâve done before.â
âIt wasnât your fault. The cave, I mean. You didnât know andââ
He shakes his head. âYou donât have to do that. Be kind, I mean. Iâve spent ten years trying to convince myself of that same fact, but it doesnât work. Guilt is larger than words, I guess. First, I killed my family, then I killed innocent people when I selfishly tried to end myself. Guess Iâm just made to murder people.â
It takes everything within me not to look horrified. âNobody is made to murââ
I canât even finish the sentence. Unwillingly, I think back to Leonardo and Maximo. They were most definitely born evil and only got worse. But Harleyâs different. Thereâs something good in his badness, something pure in his mistakes. Is evilness always so clear-cut?
âI am not a monster, Scarlet, please remember that. I lied when I told you I killed a flat full of people because he evicted me. I tried to sound scary and intimidating in case anyone wanted to pick a fight with meââ he chokes as he spills the truth. âI was a coward. I killed myself. Self-immolated, to be precise, I wanted to die the same way my family did. But I was fucking dumb. I thought my fire would be contained in a bathtub. Itâs stupid, looking back. I drenched all the towels, lined the door frame and windows, and flooded the room to try and contain the fire. I wish I just hung myself in the woods now. Either way, suicide is a sin so I would have come here anyways, itâs just a shame that I took four people with me on the way out.â
The lump in my throat doubles and it chokes me up. âI killed a whole bus of people accidentally trying to shoot one man. I guess we are not so different.â
He lifts his tinned food and offers me a small smile. Itâs full of pain. I find myself gently hitting the tin against his until there is a ringing around the room.
âTo deserving our punishment,â he says.
I swallow down my guilt. âTo deserving our punishment.â
His eyes twinkle when he smiles and brings another mouthful of food to his lips. However, just as he goes to say something, the room suddenly becomes hotter and hotter until the sweat licks off my skin.
My stomach twists and that anxious feeling bubbles up in my chest. And then I feel itâ all-consuming anger. Tears prick in my eyes and my fingers curl into fists. My breath falls short, and I spring to my feet, readying for the fight. Finally, the awful beast reveals himself.
Rage leers over me, eyes burning with flames and fangs shooting out. His large hand grabs me by the arm, and he squeezes tightly. I try to shake him off, but he doesnât flinch.
âPrey Ten,â he growls before those terrifying eyes shoot back to Harley, âAnd Prey Three.â
âWhat the fuck? Let go of her!â Harley starts for Rage, but he easily throws him across the room. I feel the anger bubble up in my chest until Iâm choking on the adrenaline. Harley smacks the wall with a hideous thud before tumbling to the floor. I turn my attention back to Rage and I swipe him across the face as hard as I can, but he barely flinches.
âShow me your anger, little mortal. Oh yes, there it is!â heâs delighted as my whole body snaps in half and I try to escape his wicked touch. âItâs so nice to finally meet you both.â
He twists back to Harley and shoots his hand out. Dark pixels fly out, wrapping around his foot and then he tugs until Harley is flying back across the room. Rage secures his gaze on Harley and yanks him to his feet, steadying him when he stumbles. His eyes glare at both of us deeply and then they begin to bleed.
A horrifying shriek leaves my lips as images of Leonardo and Maximo flash across my mind. All the awful torture they inflict on me and the overwhelming emotions that follow. Tears flood down my eyes and my lips turn into a snarl. The anger is blinding, and it takes everything with me not to strike out. And then, suddenly, Maximo appears in the room with me.
Horrifyingly, I see his ugly rearing head in my direction and that cocky grin. His eyes twinkle with some mischievous plan and he reaches out for me. Reason shrieks that itâs not really him, but the rage floods through my veins until Iâm fully shaking. My teeth grind together and the vein pops in the side of my forehead.
Fucking kill him. Heâs right there! Take what is rightfully yours!
Fury takes full control of me, and I throw myself at my evil husband. He tries to grab me by the arms to stop my fist from connecting with him, but I am far too fast and furious to be held back. I drive my fist into him over and over again until the groans and shrieks of horror flood through my eyes. Blood pours out of his crooked nose, coating my skin in the sticky redness. I beat the evil bastard until my body aches, and everything hurts. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind screams for me to stop, but the anger forces me to keep going. And then, suddenly, Harley is next to me too.
What the fuck?
He beats the living shit out of Maximo too but with the most pained cry as though he is experiencing something different. The whole situation confuses me but Iâm only seeing red. My fingers curl around Maximoâs neck and I squeeze tighter and tighter. Then the most horrifying idea of ripping his throat out springs to mind.
Do it. Rip his vocal cords from his throat. Push your hand so far through his fucking neck that you grab his spinal cord. Snap his fucking body in half the way he desires to do the same to youâ
However, just as I can yank on the sensitive flesh, I find myself smashing into something hard. Suddenly, Iâm flying through the air before I can process it, everything makes me feel dizzy and sick. Large arms secure themselves around my waist and stop me from attacking. Then I smell the familiar musky scent that makes my head swim.
âCalm down, little mortal,â Deathâs deep voice. âSnap out of it.â
Red. I see red.
âLet go of me!â
Over his shoulder, I can see Maximo lying on the floor, head snapped to the side. Harley drives his fist into my husband repeatedly and the anger flies through me. âHeâs mine! Let me go!â
I use every inch of strength to fight against Death but suddenly, the absolute fury vanishes. Rageâs cry of horror rings through the room and I hear him thud to his knees. Only then does Death relent his grip on me. I push past him, and the horror sinks in.
Prey One is completely and utterly mutilated on our living room floor. His blood and gore seep out into the cold cracks in the floor, his head exploding against the tiles and the stench of his ruined body harasses me.
Petrified, a scream escapes my lips and I stumble backwards until I stumble into Death. âOh my God!â The tears sting my eyes. âOh my God!â
I feel Deathâs tight grip on my arm. âStop saying that name here, little mortal.â
âWe killed him!â I cry out in horror. âFuck! We killed him!â
Harley suddenly snaps out of his trance and the terror sinks into him too. His head snaps between the mess oozing into his jumpsuit and at me. A horrified noise escapes him, and he frantically scrambles away. The blood stains his hands and face as he covers his mouth in shock.
âNo! That wasââ
âHe tricked you.â Miseryâs voice suddenly rings out and only now do I see her in the corner of the room, hand outstretched in Rageâs direction. Heâs on his knees, clutching at his throat, gargling, and choking as something imagery seems to strangle him. The sound is so strangled and horrifying that I want to look away, but the fear forces me to watch this huge beast get punished. However, Rage doesnât remain on the floor for too long because Deathâs mighty fist collides with his chest. He fires dark pixels into the room at his brother, scalding and burning him.
âDeath, no!â Misery hisses, releasing Rage from whichever trance she had him in. âNot here, Death, please!â
Rage snaps back into consciousness but cries out in pain as the pixels burn into his skin. Death moves so fucking fast that itâs all a blur. All I can see is Rageâs body smashing into different parts of the room, utterly destroying everything in its wake. He tries to fight back but Death is much faster.
My eyes catch the glimmer of a weapon slashing around, followed by trails of blood on the floor.
âDeath!â Suddenly, two more people flash into the room. The Devil zaps just as quickly as the other two men and pushes Death away from him. Rage collapses on the floor, beaten, bruised and utterly disembowelled, but somehow still with a smile on his face. Is he fucking insane?
âJust as I expected,â Rage cackles.
âShut your fucking mouth, you dirty little cunt. How did you get in here without us knowing? What the fuck are you playing at?â Death is huge and leering over him in his ghastly state. He looks nothing like the man who throws my body around and pleases me. But now, the black mist stains the atmosphere and makes it hard to breathe, and his body bursts through his armour. His back is to me so I canât see his face and Iâm almost glad. âYou deserve another death for that!â
Just as Death strikes, Longing is in front of him. She grabs her sonâs face and holds him tightly before glancing back at Misery in fear. âDo it, Mis. Stop himââ
Suddenly, Longing is flying across the room as Death strikes her away as if she weighs nothing. And then the most terrifying roar rips from his body, knocking me over onto my ass. When he rears around to face us, the man who haunts my wet dreams has completely transformed.
For the first time in these godforsaken trials, I can truly say that the tremendous beast in front of me completely and utterly horrifies all other versions of fear I thought Iâd ever had before.