Body Counts

This isn't a book to read.

This is a book to survive.

Welcome to the world of Body Counts.

And yes-your body counts in here as well.

You are a member.

You don't remember joining. You don't remember the initiation, the oath, the blood on your hands. But it's there. It's been there since page four, since you nodded at something you shouldn't have nodded at, since you decided he seemed trustworthy, since you felt the first flicker of relief when someone else died instead.

You think you're outside this, looking in. That's the first lie you swallowed. The second one tastes like safety.

There are seven chairs at this table. You've been sitting in one since you started reading. You just haven't felt the wood yet.

They know you're here. The quiet one who started everything with a kill. The survivor who shouldn't have made it past chapter one. The strategist who thinks he's ahead of you. The bright one who smiles while he watches. The mirror who becomes what you need to see. The soft one who destroys what he loves. And the one you won't see until it's too late-the one who placed you in this chair, who chose this book for you, who has been waiting for your eyes to reach these words.

He knows your name.

He knows why you picked this up.

You want to put this down.

You won't.

You want to skip to the end, to see who survives, to prove you're smarter than the trap.

There is no end.

There is only the next body, and the next, and the next-and somewhere in the count, yours waiting its turn, patient as a held breath.

Keep reading.

Or don't.

It doesn't matter what you choose.

The count continues with or without your eyes on it.

But it continues with you.

That was decided the moment you opened the cover.

That was decided long before.

Welcome to Body Counts, member.

We've been waiting.

We always knew you'd find your way home.