Page 10 of The Killing Game

All the blood left my body. We locked eyes. Minutes passed by as the world disappeared around me. A ringing in my ears drowned out the celebration.

Suddenly, the figure shook its head at me before disappearing behind the bleachers. I break out in a full sprint, weaving in and out of people embracing their loved ones and friends sharing a secret celebratory drink with the flask they snuck in.

By the time I made it to the edge of the bleachers, the stranger was gone.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

SIX

4:57 P.M.

I’m jolted from reliving my nightmare by a pounding coming from the front door. Everyone freezes, staring in the direction of the strange noise. There’s no mistaking the loud knock we hear coming from the other side. Each one of us is waiting to see what the other will do.

Another set of knocks rings through the cabin. This time less forceful. A powerful voice calls through the wooden protector between us and the outside intruder.

“County Sheriffs. We’re here to speak with the cabin owner, Mr. James.”

Sam cries out like she’s in agony and pulls herself deeper into her blanket. Jason flinches in his seat, but doesn’t move his eyes away from me. The questionable look remains on his face. Colton sighs before pushing up to his feet. I sit frozen in place. My eyes follow him to the door.

Colton shuffles slowly to the entryway. His shoulders slumped like the whole weight of the world is on his shoulders. His tanned hand reaches out to grasp the copper handle. With one swift swing, the door opens to reveal two uniformed men standing on the front porch. I don’t recognize either of them, which is surprising because I know the entire department thanks to my research on The Slayer.

The one in front, who I presume knocked on the door, is tall and slender. His high and tight is hidden underneath the uniform hat atop his head. From where I sit, blue eyes crinkle at the corners and his face is set in a permanent grimace. He stands with authority and makes direct eye contact with Colton. A no-nonsense deputy who’s probably seen his fair share of bullshit. The man behind him is shorter in stature and stocky. His body strains behind his uniform. The outline of defined muscle clearly marked. Noticeably younger, too. If I had to guess, he wrestled in his lifetime and now spends his off time lifting heavy things in the gym. His smooth shaven face gives away his age. His brown eyes are bright with curiosity and naivety. Clearly, he hasn’t seen anything yet to sour his love of the job.

The three speak for a moment. Their conversation is too low for any of us to hear them. The younger deputy stares over Colton’s shoulder at the three of us still sitting. His eyes linger just long enough that I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s assessing the room and making mental notes of all of us. Who could be a suspect? Who would be stupid enough to pull off this prank? Do any of us look inebriated enough to be making up the whole thing? A myriad of plausible motives to work through in a matter of seconds.

Deputy Muscles makes eye contact with me. I’m staring right back, trying to figure out if they can even be trusted. From the research for my books and the countless hours of being interrogated when I first started writing, I know first hand that the police work in this town is subpar, at best. A small town department overwhelmed by big city crime after The Slayer showed his gruesome tricks. The amount of missed evidence or poorly secured crime scenes have been astounding. The general public was so engrossed in fear that they overlooked the department’s mishaps. Plus, I know first hand that the killer keeps tabs on the town. Who’s to say he hasn’t infiltrated the police force or paid them off like some slasher hungry mobster?

I offer Deputy Muscles a tight smile to show that I’m not the one to be worried about. His face noticeably shifts. He’s no longer looking at me with suspicion. I watch as his eyes widen and the look of recognition crosses his face.

Son of a bitch.

He recognizes me.

Perfect.

Great.

Exactly what we fucking need right now.

Colton waves the men inside and follows quickly behind them as they make their way to the living room where we all sit. Deputy Serious nods up and down as he acknowledges all of us. His rookie behind him giddy with excitement.

“Good afternoon, kids. My name is Deputy Harden. This here is my partner, Deputy Ramirez. We’re here because one of you reported evidence of The Senior Slayer in the area.”

Colton makes introductions for us. “Yes, sir. This is Jason, Sam, and Ashe.”

Sam peeks up from her blanket long enough to give a small wave. She’s no longer crying and listening very intently to every word that comes out of the Deputy’s mouth. Her green eyes are dimmed more than usual. Jason sends a welcoming nod to the Deputy. His body language says he’s still tense, but he’s hiding it pretty well. When they get to me, I try to give my most endearing smile possible with a little wave. Anything to not give my usual resting bitch face and paint an unnecessary target on my back.

Deputy Ramirez speaks up, “I’m sorry. I have to ask. Are you the Ashe. Like Ashe Nikko, author of the goremance novels that’s been all over TikTok? Your work is amazing!”

Deputy Harden shoots a deadened glare at his rookie who’s currently fan-girling over me.

“Horror Romance, but guilty. Thank you for the kind words, Deputy,” I say, shyly. I’ll never get used to being recognized by strangers.

Deputy Harden pinches the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes with a sigh.

“Ramirez, can you act professional for five damn seconds, please?”

Deputy Ramirez squares his shoulders and stands up straight.