Blood has already soaked through my underwear.
I press a hand there carefully and look back up at Sophie. “I’m bleeding. It is going to go through the dress.”
She shrugs, completely unbothered. “You'll be bleeding more soon.”
I hold her gaze for a second, calm enough that it almost surprises me.
If she tries to kill me first, the scalpel goes into her before anyone else.
I finish dressing without another word.
Sophie leads me out of the basement cells and up the stairs toward the game room. Each step feels heavier than the last.
The doors to the game room are already open.
Elliot stands at the center of the room like a host about to begin a performance. He is dressed in black from head to toe, boots polished, movements unhurried. A wolf mask rests in his hands, its empty eyes fixed forward. A chainsaw hangs at his side, the weight of it obvious in the way his grip settles around the handle. He looks pleased, almost reverent, like this is the part he enjoys most.
Asher lounges near the bar, also dressed in black, a fox mask tucked under one arm. He checks his crossbow with quiet precision, fingers running along the string, then the bolts lined up beside him. The tips catch the overhead lights. He smiles to himself as he works.
Knox stands closer to the wall, broad shoulders rolling slowly as if loosening up before a workout. A bear mask rests against his thigh. His axe is already in his hands, freshly sharpened, the wide blade reflecting light with every subtle shift of his stance.
Sophie joins them last, dressed in black like the rest, a sheep mask dangling loosely from her fingers. The contrast makes my stomach turn. Her expression focused, almost serene.
The room feels staged, as if everything in it has been placed with intention for what is about to happen.
The others are brought in behind me, Miles, Emma, Sarah, and Jared. All of us are dressed in white. Standing together, we look like sacrifices lined up at the altar.
Elliot steps forward, smiling with ease. “Here are the rules. When the first siren sounds, you run. You hide. You do whatever you think will keep you alive. You will have a head start.”
He begins pacing slowly, the chainsaw resting across his shoulders.
“When the second siren sounds, your head start is over. That is when the hunt begins.”
He stops and glances toward the side door.
“There will also be armed guards positioned throughout the forest to ensure no one breaks protocol or tries anything clever. They are not here to hunt. They are here to make sure you follow the rules.”
My stomach sinks.
Elliot turns back to us and raises an eyebrow.
“If you manage to breach the perimeter and make it past the gates, you're free. You win. You escape.”
He smiles, wider now.
“No one ever has.”
I can feel Emma trembling beside me. Her breathing is shallow. Her eyes dart from face to face, trying to decide who to fear the most.
“This game usually produces zero survivors,” Elliot continues. “If you survive the hunt itself, and we find you, your execution will follow shortly afterward.”
I catch movement near the corner of the room.
Enzo stands beside one of the side doors, dressed in all black, a cattle prod slung over his shoulder. He's smiling. Not wide, not performative, just relaxed, entertained.
I don't know whether to feel sick or furious.
Elliot turns his attention back to us.
