Abella Sterling (Female P.O.V)
September 21, 2074
Miami, Florida
I glance to the right at the three blinking red numbers displaying the time.
4:59.
It was the perfect amount for one final kill.
However, I still needed to find the vile flesh-eating bastards.
A smile tugged at my lips in anticipation. The thrill of the chase was addictive, addictive as nicotine. The only difference was that my compulsion wouldn't lead to me being buried six feet under with stinky maggots feasting on my rotting corpse.
The flashing red in my peripheral brought my attention back to the mission. Endless creaking reverberated in my ears as I hastily descended a staircase leading deeper into the basement. The intermittent bursts of sickly yellow light coming from the ceiling guided my way. I mashed my lips together as a frustrated growl built in my throat at the traitorous cobwebs hanging overhead. The sticky nuisance even stretched to the upper portions of the gray brick walls.
I was trapped.
All it took was one touch.
Just one.
And the wispy silk would sear through my flesh. The thought alone made shivers travel the length of my spine.
I lightly shook my head, clearing them of the images before spotting a doorway to the right. It was an escape from this passage of doom. I eased towards it in no rush to enter without knowing what awaited on the other side. A quick peek around the doorframe revealed nothing but utter darkness until I glimpsed a glint of silver low on the floor. Ignoring the grimy black substance coating the wall, I pressed my shoulder against it. Stooping low, I peered around the corner, locating my target.
Its round steel frame, glowing red eyes, and chisel-shaped incisors were unmistakable.
A sense of giddiness washed over me as another appeared behind it. They shuffled back and forth in the middle of the passage.
My fingers tightened around the steel pipe, clenching it for dear life. It was my only chance of keeping those last two hearts floating above my head burning red. The other eight had long since faded away.
No life packs nor weapons would miraculously spawn at this point.
I rushed around the corner catching them by surprise. Wildly swinging the pipe, I bashed away at their flickering bodies.
My own did the same, taking damage in the process. A tiny smile crept across my face as their bodies crumpled and the light faded from their eyes. The sudden and unmistakable sound of multiple gunshots reverberating through my ears suppressed my smile.
My lungs seized as the bullets ripped through fabric and flesh, leaving gaping holes in my back. Instantly my two hearts became one until none remained. Newly paralyzed, I stared at the scene until the image distorted.
A loud groan slipped past my lips as those two dreaded words popped onto my screen.
Game over.
Those tiny words underneath it made me curse aloud.
Thorn was killed by ExterminatorX.
That dickhead had managed to poach my kill and kill me in the process. I wouldn't have minded if another player did it, but this asshole made it a mission to kill me in every other game. Like it was a personal objective or something. Either way, it annoyed me.
I wasn't some personal fucking quest for him to check off.
My hands shook while slipping the headset off my face. It took every ounce of my control to refrain from throwing it against the wall. Like I had done countless times before. It was so tempting, and the relief would be sweet, but afterward, I would have to fork over a small chunk of my savings to replace the device. My ever-bleeding account didn't need another hit, and I didn't need the headache.
It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.
I stripped off the lightweight black vest, the only thing aiding my wobbly legs in supporting my weight, and stepped off the VR Treadmill. Instead of making my way across the room, I stood there. For how long, I couldn't be sure, but it was until my legs no longer resembled the composition of jello. It must have been a while because the white light encircling the spherical platform and embedded in the controllers faded.
When I finally crossed to my desk, I picked up the small remote control off my leather armchair and undimmed the lights. It was my preferred setting when playing because of cost efficiency instead of eye sensitivity.
While my eyes slowly adjusted to the bright light flooding my living room, I shoved aside a half-eaten bag of Starburst and set down the remote and controllers on my desk. The soft clatter they made sounded louder in the quiet stillness of my living room.
My eyes flickered over the triple computer screen setup sitting on the sleek polished surface, waiting for the stats to appear.
When they didn't, I softly sighed, hating the delay.
Moving across the room, I collapsed into the sofa. The buttery soft dark brown leather cradled my body, giving my sore and tired muscles a well-deserved reprieve. I couldn't complain too much. After all, it was a sneaky way to get in some exercise while having fun.
Now, after an hour of gameplay, I could finally rest.
Or so I thought until the final results appeared on the screen. I was on my feet and across the room in a flash. Leaning over my desktop, I grabbed my mouse and scrolled down the list. It was short. Very short. My teeth unconsciously worried my bottom lip while I took in the twenty names. It was a severe reduction from the thousands that had competed.
Two columns separated the information, keeping everything tidy. The left held the player's names while the other displayed the number of kills.
My eyes grew insanely wide when I found my name among the top three.
Player: Thorn
Kills: 208
A smile slowly broke out across my face as those four long-awaited words flashed across the screen.
Welcome to The Hunt.
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6-10-22
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Underground Legends: The Hunt (BWWM)
RomancePro-Gamer Abella Sterling has her heart set on winning the top gaming competition of the year. However, things take a dark turn when the players suffer grave deaths, one after the next. Left with no choice, she turns to the one man from her past wh...