The Phantom's Game | 18+

Chapter 20

Gore, bloody, and violence content ahead!

A moment later, a wince escaped Isadora's lips as pain flared up in her leg. She shifted her gaze downwards to her leg, blood trickling down her tanned skin to the ground as a bullet was lodged deep within her flesh.

Vincent's eyes followed to her leg where she bled and quickly ripped a strip of cloth from the cloth table, putting pressure on the wound.

"I need you to hold on, Isadora," He attempted not to freak out in front of her eyes as he remained calm, wrapping the white cloth around her injured leg.

Isadora winced again, trying to ignore the pain as Vincent worked diligently on her leg. "I'm fine, Vincent. 'Tis but a flesh wound." She managed a smile, attempting to reassure him.

But Vincent knew better. He had seen too many fights, too much bloodshed, and the aftermath of the horrors.

The strain of the situation was etched across Vincent's face as he worked to staunch the bleeding. He knew that a flesh wound could quickly become life-threatening if not treated properly.

Meanwhile, Isadora tried to keep a brave face, but the pain was starting to take its toll. With a pained grunt, the woman fell to her knees on the bloody ground.

Vincent's expression hardened as he watched Isadora struggle.

"We need to get you out of here," he said, his voice low and urgent. He quickly bandaged the wound as best he could, trying to ignore the sudden surge of protectiveness he felt for her.

"Not so fast, you two," the Phantom's voice shook the ballroom once again. "But I do have a surprise gift for you, Isadora."

The double doors opened to reveal a masked man making his way towards them, a rectangular box in his hands. The tension in the room was even more palpable as the duo held their breaths, wondering what was inside.

The moment the masked man removed the lid from the box, Isadora's stomach almost lurched out of her body once her gaze landed on the content inside it. The bile in her throat threatened to leave and frozen as she was, she felt lightheaded and quickly tore her gaze away.

Inside the box, a rotting flesh of a hand rested, its bones protruding and the skin hanging off in tatters. The smell of decay filled the room as a wave of horror washed over Isadora. She struggled to maintain her composure, her eyes wide with shock and disgust.

Vincent quickly moved to shield Isadora from the horror, clenching his jaw in anger that was mostly directed to his brother.

"You think you've won this game, Valentine?" Vincent spat through gritted teeth, his fists clenching and unclenching while embracing the injured woman.

"Oh brother, I'm always two steps ahead of you, remember?" A sinister chuckle followed after.

Vincent flared up with anger after that response, his body flushed with heat, and all he could see was red. "Enough, Val. Come out and face me, or are you going to hide like the coward you are?"

"Do you know why I'm doing this, Vincent? Do you really want to know the truth?" The man behind the screen spoke in an eerily low tone.

"You want to destroy this criminal empire? Is that it?" Isadora spoke up after a long while, her face still scrunched up in pain.

"Smart girl. But do you really think I would simply give away the truth so easily?" Valentine replied in a mocking tone. "Oh no, I'd like you two to play a game first."

The air in the ballroom thickened with a sense of dread, as the duo exchanged a quick, tense glance. They both knew what Valentine was getting at, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Vincent growled in disbelief. "Seriously? While she's injured in the leg? You're heartless than I thought, brother."

"Vincent, it's not about heartlessness," Valentine sneered, his voice echoing through the room. "It's about strategy. We can't afford to show any weakness in this game, just as our father has taught us."

His younger brother snickered at the response. The audacity of him shoving their father's words right back at his face. He grumbled in annoyance, "You've got to be kidding me."

"You and I both know we're not, Vince," Valentine chuckled in amusement behind the microphone. "Let's begin our game, shall we?"

Next to Vincent, Isadora let out a pained exhalation and turned her attention towards him, "I can handle myself, don't worry."

Vincent, seeing the determination in Isadora's eyes, nodded slightly. He knew she was a tough one, and if she could endure this much pain, she could endure anything.

"Fine, brother. Let's begin."

Valentine grinned in satisfaction, nodding to the people in the security room as they prepared the game layout on the monitors.

"This is going to be fun," he whispered to himself, his eyes twinkling with malicious glee.

The game commenced with Vincent and Isadora pitted against each other in a high-stakes contest.

"You've got five minutes to find the right box in this ballroom. If you don't get the right box when the time is up, the punishment will be imminent for the two of you."

A classical music began to fill the intense silence in the room, but it did nothing to ease the duo. If anything, they were more anxious and furious about the situation. There were loads of small boxes in the grand ballroom, each with its own mystery. If one of them found the right box, they would be declared as the winner, while the other would die.

"And let the game... begin," Valentine declared before falling silent and watched the entire scene unfold through the screen.

The duo began to search the entire ballroom, despite Isadora struggling to walk due to the injury, but she had no time to lose. She had to overcome this or risk losing her entire reputation, her entire existence. Regardless, the brunette pushed herself to the limit as she continued to wander and searched every corner to find the right box.

Vincent, on the other hand, was more cautious. He knew the danger of the situation and the consequences of losing the game. He scanned the ballroom methodically, looking for any key details that might help him find the right box more quickly.

As the minutes ticked away, the tension in the room was more palpable. Vincent and Isadora's frantic searches turned into a race against time. The classical music continued to play, but it only served as a cruel reminder of their impending doom if they couldn't find the right box.

Isadora's determination was put to the test.

"Vincent, wait..." The woman spoke up after a moment of realization.

The two of them simply stared at each other, and Isadora shifted her gaze north to the chandeliers briefly, giving Vincent a signal to think what she was thinking. Vincent glanced upwards towards the chandeliers and immediately knew what she was thinking. With a swift movement, he aimed his handgun towards one of them and pulled the trigger. The bullet managed to slice through the chain that attached the item to the ceiling.

The chain immediately broke apart, and the chandelier fell to the bloody ground with a loud thud. It shattered across the ground and revealed a small black box from its hold. Their eyes instantly shifted to the item and took hold of it, removing the lid from the box while they held their breaths. Please let it be the good box, Isadora thought.

"It's the right one," Vincent whispered to her after a few seconds of silence.

-

A/N: How are we feeling about the climax, chat?