The Great Game (2019)

12

"Get away from me." I scramble to my feet, sorrow and shock quickly displaced by fear.

Kent raises his hands in the air, an expression of amusement flitting across his features. "There's no need to be so hurtful, Chase."

"Yeah, that one's on me. I didn't know that stone cold murderers could have feelings," I sneer, still inching away from Kent. Hidden behind the curtain of black that the leaves paint across his face, his features look theatrically villainous.

"I just want to talk, Chase. I have no intention of hurting you... for now."

I don't wait for his next statement. "I don't know what I ever did to you. I never even met you before the competition."

"I know that." Kent raises his brows at me, attempting at a comforting gesture. I turn towards the hedges beside me and snatch out the longest branch I can find, quickly throwing my hand out.

"Don't you even think of coming any closer," I hiss, trying to jerk the sharp end of the branch in his direction. The twig wobbles in my hand, sagging with the motion.

"All this while," I say, closely watching Kent's every move, "I thought I died by suicide."

"That stand is debatable. You died when your will to live died." Kent speaks in slow, rhythmic patterns. His dark eyes are hollow as thet follow the swaying of my body, the helpless tremor that slithers along my spine.

"Stop playing with me." I jut the branch out, daring Kent on. "Tell me what you did, and tell me why you did it."

"Calm down, Chase." Kent curls his lips into a careless, undisturbed smile. Lightning spills across the sky once more and the yellow rays erupt across Kent's face, creating an awful composition of darkness and light blended into one.

"While I would love to give you the full details, I'm afraid I can't disclose why I killed you."

"You coward," I hiss the word and it bounces off him, like the rain.

"However," Kent continues, "I can freely tell you what I did. I had someone ensure you were properly dead, beyond resurrection."

The cold from the pouring rain isn't the only thing causing me to shake. "S- so, I wasn't supposed to die? But you had me killed?" The tears in my eyes wink in and out of existence.

"If it's any comfort," Kent says boredly, "You have no chance of going back to your old life."

"What do you mean?" My clothes are soaked to the point of sticking to my skin and I wrap my arms around my chest, forgetting the threat that Kent's looming figure poses.

"I'm going to make sure you don't walk out of this competition alive. The twist of Kent's lips resembles the slither-like movement of a snake and I take another step backwards, suddenly wary of the way cruel amusement plays across his face like an actor on stage.

"You said that you weren't going to harm me." I accuse quietly.

"Yes, I did say that." Ken'ts gaze is restless, sweeping along the perimeter. "But that was in the moments before I unveiled the truth. I don't want you to die without knowing what I've done, without acknowledging that I'm the reason you died."

I twist around frantically, searching for anything that I can fashion into a weapon against Kent. The stick in my hand is saturated with water, making for a clumsy hold, and I doubt that it can inflict the shallowest cut.

"You don't want to do this," I warn, even though my voice shakes like the faint tremors of the thunder's residual call.

"I think I would know what I want to do," Kent sneers, the look on his face hardening to stone as he approaches me. I sumble back clumsily, clutching the stick stupidly.