The Rules

Weapon of Choice

Jillian forced her heart rate down. Next to her, Marty visibly gulped down his fear.

"There are three rules," Alyson said. "First rule, nobody leaves until we get my sister back. Anyone that tries will be met with, shall we say, unfortunate consequences."

As if to illustrate her warning, Petey, one of the other students gathered in the room, slipped his foot out the window. He'd been inching closer to the window during Alyson's little speech. Arcane light danced across the room, momentarily blinding Jillian and the others. Their shouts of alarm, however, were drowned out by Petey's blood-curdling screams of agony.

Petey fell to the floor, clutching at the remnants of his leg below the knee. Marty opened his eyes long enough to induce a wretching puke. Jillian stared with eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

"Second rule," Alyson continued without so much as a glance at Petey. "If you tell anyone about this, you won't make it to the end of the day alive. I have assurances from the other side."

"Why are you doing this?" Jillian shouted. She ripped off her jacket and tied it around Petey's burned leg. He screamed of a few moments before passing out from the pain. "He's going to die if we don't get help soon."

"Well isn't that convenient for you then, Jilly," Alyson said with a smirk. "Rule three, everyone plays the game."

"Alright, alright, let's just get this over with," Marty said, wiping his quivering lips one last time as he kept his eyes off Petey and on Alyson. "When you get your sister back, we can leave?"

"Whoever is still alive, of course," Alyson said with a laugh. The sound would have made sense at a pep rally or a birthday party. Here, in the candle-lit room, mixed with the smell of burning flesh and old wax, it was horrifying.

"Then let's get going. How do we play?" Marty asked.

"Please gather around the table," Alyson said.

The table stood in the center of the room. A sheet of satin cloth covered various objects. It was the color of blood, a deep crimson, with black tassels sewn to each corner. The identities of certain items were obvious, based on their silhouettes. Marty swallowed hard again. Jillian stared down at the items, then up at the other two teens accross from her, before settling back on Petey's still form. Alyson stepped to the table and yanked the cloth off.

"What the-?" Marty shouted. "Wait, what do you want -"

"This is crazy, Alyson," Jillian said, terrified tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "What is wrong wit you? Why are you doing this?"

Alyson picked up the item nearest her and swung it around. The black blade of the machete gleamed in the ruddy candlelight. She held the blade up to her face, staring into its inky depths with an unnatural gleam in her eyes.

"The game is called Weapon of Choice," Alyson said suddenly, swinging the blade down and holding it at her side. "You choose a weapon, then you spin each of those two boards. The first tells you the victim. The second tells you the degree of pain. I'll start."

She reach over with her free hand and spun both wheels on their boards. The wheels were pretty obviously from old board games, repurposed for Alyson's sick invention. The first spinner stopped on a picture of Marty, his yearbook picture from the year before. He stammered an objection and took a step back, looking for any means of escape. Jillian cried out when she saw where the second arrow stopped spinning, but Marty was too scared to clearly see what was coming.

Alyson nodded and cocked her head sideways, like an evil marionette being directed by a demonic puppetmaster. She walked toward Marty, her movements jerky and not the least bit human. Marty backed into the wall, his head down, hands up over his face.

"Please, Alyson, please don't hurt me, I just want to go home," he cried. His tears fell to the weathered boards of the old home. "I don't want to die."

"Oh, don't worry dear, you didn't land on anything serious," Alyson said. "This might hurt a bit, but you should still make it to the end."

"Alyson, don't!" Jillian screamed.

"I'm sorry, Jillian, but it's just part of the game," Alyson said. "I hope you understand."

"Alyson, please," Jillian pleaded. "Please."

"Yes, Alyson," a strange voice said from out of the darkness to Jillian's left. "Please don't."

The back door creaked open, allowing a cold wind to seep into the room. Jillian shivered as the group searched the room for the source of the voice. Jillian noted with some curiousity that Petey was no longer lying on the floor. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. 

A hand suddenly grasped Jillian's shoulder from out of the darknes. Grabbed and pulled. Jillian screamed as she fell back, staring at the terrifyed expressions reflected in Alyson's black machete.