Game Of Survival •in editing•

12 The Betrayer

"What the hell are you talking about and how the hell do you know my name?" My voice is a harsh whisper in my ears, red blurs my vision. I don't know what the hell is happening but all I know is if someone in this house knows who I am then my two weeks are a lot shorter than I thought.

"How do you think you even infiltrated this house without any actual help? How do you think you even managed to get out of the room to speak with Ansel," he stares at the charcoal on the floor along with the flowers I gathered from the garden. "I know a lot more than you do. I see a lot more than you see."

"Did you plan that?" I ask incredulously, the wheels in my mind turning at completely different rates.

"No, not really. I knew they were going to be at the port, yes. But I didn't know they were going to be captured. So I said to myself, why not let you hear it from an outsider instead of me."

"I'd think you were a lying bitch."

"Exactly. Ansel knows about it. So I tipped off the guards at the door, and voila. You're smart Skye but please, be a little more rational."

Hot, searing anger takes root in my brain, my hands burn with the need to restrain him, somehow. "If you're here to kill me then I'd suggest you do it quickly lest I make you scream loud enough to send guards running to your rescue."

He chuckles. Actually chuckles. "No, no that's not my job. And if you'd put your fists down and listen for a moment I'll tell you how I know your name."

"Maybe you're just trying to play me in order to drive a dagger through my skull."

"If I wanted to kill you I would've done it while you were injured at the port." Kay sighs, "Put your fists down, I won't hurt you."

"No. I'm just thinking about smashing them into your face right about now. Explain. What do you mean by I'm a few days late?"

"I think you can figure out by now that I work for you know who. I was assigned this mission during my admission in becoming a guard for the Red General's troupe. So I took it."

"So you're a sheep in lion clothing."

"I quite like the General. But the pay is better on the other side don't you think?"

I side step a bit, trying to manoeuvre to the door. "I wouldn't say that. Not personally. I don't care about your sob story, get to the point."

He chuckles, advancing on me for every step I take backward. "There's been some externalities that the Reaper isn't very happy with. Meaning; people tattle and people betray. He doesn't like that." Another step. "Resources are limited and the Boss isn't trying to allow his empire to fall. Not now. He always believed in quality over quantity. He's also had a thing for games, ever since he was young."

"You have a bad habit of skipping the point you know that?" I stop when he puts up a hand, then two. And steps back. I drop my fists a good couple inches although every nerve in my body is firing against it. But I need answers. He's already broke the dam that is my curiosity.

"The Reaper has designated seven people. Some beginners, some more advanced. Point being, he's picked the ones that are easy to get rid of."

"And one of them is obviously me."

"See? I can story-tell all I want, you'd still figure it out." At my annoyance, he clears his throat and continues. "I'm here to supervise you."

I scoff at that. Supervise? What the hell does he think I am, a child?

"I don't need supervision."

"It's not for you. It's for the Reaper. There are rules to the game and I have to make sure you obey it."

"You're going through all of this; supervising some twisted game for what, a couple more coins in your pocket?"

His eyes flatten, the sun behind him beams over his tall figure, casting a shadow onto my smaller body. "Who or what I do this for is none of your concern. You will comply, and you will not behave as stubbornly as you usually do."

"Or what? What if I refuse to play the game?"

He seems to forget about my threat, and his boundaries. He takes a snap dagger out of his belt, twiddling with it in his ultimately larger hands. "Or you're not leaving this room alive."

I grit my teeth, hiding a smirk. Kay—or Arman as I should call him— hasn't known me for long. He doesn't know that Kat had always sought to train me by pitting my skills against her friends. All over the height of six feet. All thrice the size and weight of even his own build. All once mercenaries that drowned in their victims' pools of blood. Only one of us would be leaving and it won't be him.

I dart forward before he has time to build the momentum in his hand to swing at me. Instead he comes from under, but I already predicted that. I shove my hand down on his wrist, grab, and twist. He doesn't let go but with this grip I knee him in his side. He stumbles to the right a bit, twisting so he is now clutching tightly onto my arm. I drop my entire weight to the floor, knocking my heels against his knee pit. He stumbles forward a bit and I take the opportunity to kick outward into his right shin, using the grip on my arm to swing him to the right. And then down. I'm back on my feet in an instant, knowing well he won't fall so easily. From this point he's already released my hand and I use it to swing as hard as I can into his throat. He stutters and gags, releasing the tight hold he had on the hilt of his dagger. I stretch my hand out, reaching for the dagger he still has clutched in his fists. His empty fists hammer against my ribs; once, twice, before I latch on to his wrist, twisting until his shoulder is locked. Then when his thumb is finally loose around the hilt, I break it in one swift motion.

The crack resonates throughout the room but before he can scream I knee him in his lungs, sending him to the floor. The dagger is now at his throat for my own convenience.

"You can't kill me." He whispers; ragged and crying for air.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't drag this dagger through your jugular and kill you on the spot."

He pants for a bit, seeming to get his thoughts in order. "If you do...they'll come after you. The game doesn't end with you, Skye. They'll choose another. Someone younger, someone less skilled than you've ever been. It's about reducing the only resource he no longer has control of at this point in time. People."

My grip tightens, furious at him for even agreeing to such a stupid plan if he knew this was going to happen. "And your small, incompetent brain accepted such an offer? And you're here threatening me? God, I should just kill you for your stupidity."

"It's not only about me Skye!" He chokes on his spit, eyes widening by the second. "Yes he promised me money. But it's a lot more than you'll ever know."

My grip finally slackens as reality hits me. Of course. One would only agree to the Reaper's cause on two occasions. One; if you're really that stupid enough to get mixed up in his antics without endorsement. Or Two; the Reaper has an invisible sword pointed at your family and everything they hold dear.

I had the choice to run before he even knew who I was. But I chose to stay. I chose Kat. Even when I could've carried on with a normal life. I don't know which category that puts me in.

I get off of him, tucking the dagger into my shoes. He coughs a bit, face and ears reddening as he tries so desperately to fill the lung that I abused. He doesn't realise that I do the same as my hand unconsciously touches the left side of my body.
"So this is the only option?" I say nonchalantly, heading towards the window for the some semblance of sanity outside of this room. "It's either I do it or he kills us both and has two more out in place?"

He doesn't answer. That means I got it right. I can't help but laugh a bit, at how twisted this entire thing is. "So, I'm assuming there's rules? Every game has a rule, right?"

"Aye. There's seven of you. The final target is the General. Only, the General cannot die unless there is only one remaining person."

I turn to him, heart racing at the notion of his words. "Does that mean..."

"You'd have to kill everyone else in the game, be the sole survivor, before you go for the ultimate prize: the General."