CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I was jolted awake while it was still dark outside, Ky's voice soft but insistent in my ear. "Sunshine, it's time to go."

I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. Every muscle in my body ached, and I felt like I could sleep for another century. "It's still dark," I mumbled as if that mattered here. "And I really could use a cappuccino that won't possibly make me bleed out of my eyes."

I heard Ky chuckle softly, and when I finally forced myself to open one eye, he was standing there, fully dressed with his mask back resting atop his head, and looking like he'd just walked off a runway.

It was almost unfair how he could be so effortlessly perfect.

"You're impossible," I grumbled, pulling the covers off and sitting up slowly. My lower half protested the movement, reminding me of the night before. "Why can't there be any decent coffee in this godforsaken city? All I get is water."

Ky leaned against the wall, watching me with evident amusement. "I'd say it's a small price to pay for survival, don't you think?"

I grunted a reply, still half-asleep as I reached for the clothes Kinks had left for me. They were loose-fitting, thankfully, because there was no way I could handle anything tight right now. As I slipped the top over my head, a thought struck me, and I paused, remembering the antidote Ky had his sister give me.

"How long will that antidote, or whatever you want to call it, last?" I asked, glancing at him as I pulled the hem of the shirt down.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased that I was thinking ahead. "A few more hours, maybe less. It's not a permanent solution. It'll keep you safe until we can get you the real thing."

"Great," I muttered, already dreading the inevitable crash that turned me into a homicidal harlot. "So we're just going to keep playing this game of Russian roulette with my sanity?"

Ky stepped closer; his gaze serious. "I'll make sure you're okay, Sunshine. You know that."

I sighed, letting him pull me into a quick embrace. "Yeah, I know," I whispered, feeling a little more awake. I sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to pull on my shoes, each movement a reminder of the ache that still lingered in my muscles.

As I tightened the laces, another thought crossed my mind, and I couldn't help but voice it. "How come Sainte wasn't on your side of things?"

Ky went silent, and when I looked up, his expression was unreadable. "Why are you asking me about another man, Sunshine?"

I paused, giving him a look that said everything. "He's dead, Ky. I cut off his head."

"I have a video." A grin spread across his face, that dark, mischievous smile that always made my heart skip a beat. "How do you think I got off before I had you back in bed?"

I rolled my eyes at him, but the corner of my lips twitched upward. "You're impossible," I muttered, standing up and smoothing down the front of my shirt. He stepped closer, his hands finding their way to my waist, pulling me against him.

"I know you love it," he murmured, his voice low and full of that same dark promise.

I sighed, half in exasperation, half in surrender. "Sometimes I do," I admitted, leaning into him. It was just for a moment, soaking in his warmth before we had to face whatever was waiting for us on the other side of the door. Even if I couldn't have my cappuccino, at least I had Ky. And that was something.

He took my hand, and we left the room, his presence grounding me as we walked out. I glanced back at the bed, but no sentimental feelings were lingering. It was just a place—four walls and a mattress. It was Ky that held my attachment, not the location where everything had changed.

As we moved down the hallway, low voices reached us. We returned to the main living area, where Lana, Mel, and Hayven were already waiting, all dressed in clothes identical to mine. The outfits were like a uniform of sorts—black joggers paired with matching hoodies, and crisp white sneakers that contrasted with the dark fabric. They were comfortable, practical, and, most importantly, they allowed us to move freely. The kind of clothing that could easily blend into the shadows, just as we needed to do. The sight of them brought a sense of unity, a silent acknowledgment that we were in this together.

Ky released my hand, and I felt his eyes on me as I crossed the room to join the girls. Lana sprang up from where she was sitting, her dark hair pulled back and a wide grin on her face as she held up something in her hand. "Look what I've got!" she exclaimed, waving a ponytail around like it was the best thing she'd ever seen.

"Salvation?" I joked.

"Oh, Gracie, it's far too late for that, but we can at least look beautiful."

We laughed and she instructed me to turn around. I smiled and did as she said.

Her fingers deftly gathered my hair, securing it into a high ponytail. She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "Nice hand necklace by the way, very fashionable."

My cheeks bloomed with heat, and I laughed, glad that my clothes covered the other marks decorating my skin. The reminder of Ky's very definitive handprint on my neck was one thing, but the thought of anyone seeing the rest of his handiwork was enough to make my face heat up even more.

"So, how do you like it?" she asked after stepping back.

I turned toward her, knowing this was absolutely not about a ponytail, though if I allowed myself to, I'd get emotional over something as trivial as that too. "Honestly, better than the cappuccino I wanted."

Having caught on, Mel laughed, knowing how serious I got about caffeine. "I'm so glad you've both found new addictions."

"I think we need to pick one out for you," Lana quipped.

"What about a man known as The Cannibal?" I added playfully, relieved to see she was looking much better. Her face had more color and there was a light back in her silver eyes.

Mel pretended to consider it. "I do have a thing for men in all black, and I did used to like westerns."

"Since when?" Maverick asked from across the room.

We shared a look and laughed.

"Are we still talking about a hair tie?" Hayven asked, her brow furrowing.

"I wish," Dion said as he walked by cleaning his glasses. "If I had sisters, I imagine it would feel like this."

"I have a sister, and I can confirm, it gets worse," Charon remarked, a knowing smile on his face. "And she has three of those ties she won't get rid of."

Lana sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Girl after my own heart."

"What the fuck?" Ciaran's voice suddenly boomed from the game room. He appeared in the doorway, looking thoroughly pissed off, while Kinks strolled by him with a mischievous grin, Aisha trailing behind her with a slightly pursed expression.

Neither woman was in their getups from the night before. I almost didn't recognize the other woman without her lilac wig or mask. She was gorgeous—with long black hair that framed her face, enhancing her striking features and warm skin tone. Kinks looked the same—minus the face paint.

Kinks shot a playful look at Lana. "I can teach you my ways whenever you want, Lilly-girl."

Ciaran's voice was cold as ice as he cut in, "She doesn't need you to do anything, Kennedy."

A sudden, tense silence fell over the room. Ciaran using her full name was the first real hint that something had gone down between them.

Kinks turned slowly, her grin widening. "Kenzie," Charon warned, his tone carrying a note of caution.

"What?" she asked innocently, feigning ignorance. "I thought I heard a man drowning beneath the weight of his secrets say something." She shrugged, glancing around the room. "Must be the heat. It's a little hot in here, isn't it?" Before anyone could respond, she spun around, her grin back in full force. "Now come on, girls, give me hugs for our temporary goodbye," she demanded, holding out her arms.

We exchanged quick hugs, Kinks squeezing us one at a time, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken. Hael appeared just as we stepped back, his expression all business.

"We need to move now, Brody and Carol are ready," he announced.

"They never came back?" Lana asked.

I had clearly missed a chapter. I'd expected them to appear any moment.

"They went on a scouting mission," Melantha explained as we followed after Hael.

We approached the rear lift and split into two groups to ride it down. Charon lingered for a moment, his gaze locking with his sisters'. "You know they'll be coming here," he warned her.

"Oh, we've been waiting to play with them, don't worry about us, dear brother," Kinks replied confidently, hugging him and then Ky. Whatever it was that had happened between her and Ciaran wasn't enough for her not to hug him too. "You're still my favorite cousin, Cici."

"Just stay alive," he replied.

We had to split into two groups to take the lift down. I stuck close to the girls, not wanting to leave them. Ky, Ciaran, and Dion rode with us, the others going first. The lift doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a room that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fever dream. The floor was a dizzying zigzag pattern of black and white stripes, creating an optical illusion that made it hard to focus on where you were stepping.

Oversized, candy-striped columns stretched to the low ceiling, which was adorned with hanging, distorted shapes that defied logic. The entire space was bathed in a surreal glow, with neon lights casting eerie, flickering shadows that seemed to dance around us as we moved.

"This place is something else," Mel murmured, taking it all in.

"Feels like we're in the middle of a funhouse," Lana agreed, her voice tinged with both awe and wariness.

"That's exactly what it is. A funhouse designed to mess with your head," Hael replied, already moving forward with a purposeful stride. "Stay close. This room is meant to disorient."

We followed him through the maze-like room, trying to ignore the way the patterns on the floor seemed to shift beneath our feet, the walls appearing to close in around us with each step. It was a place where reality seemed to twist and bend, where you couldn't trust your own senses. Hael led us to a door that seemed ordinary enough, but when he opened it, there was nothing behind it but a shelf, as if mocking our expectations. Without hesitation, he slid the shelf aside, revealing another door—this one sturdier, more imposing. With a grunt, he pushed it open, and the sight that greeted us was far from comforting. A round metal grate was set into the floor, its surface dark and foreboding.

The air that drifted up from below was cool and damp, carrying the faint smell of earth and something far less pleasant. Lana peered over the edge, her nose wrinkling. "We're going into the sewer?" Her tone was more inquisitive than concerned. "I'm not complaining, just need to prepare myself."

Mel shot her a sideways glance, her brow furrowing in distaste. "I am definitely complaining."

Maverick, leaned nonchalantly against the wall right outside the doorway and smirked at the exchange. "Look on the bright side, Mellie. At least it's not raining down there."

To my surprise, Mel laughed, shaking her head in reluctant amusement.

Ciaran grabbed Lana and pulled her away from the hole. "Let's not plunge headfirst to potential death."

"Like we did with our situation-ship?"

His expression softened just a fraction. "Precisely, puppet. Our relationship."

Lana didn't argue, her smile turning into a grin as she glanced back at him. But the moment of levity was fleeting, the reality of their situation pulling us back to the task at hand. One by one, we climbed down the grate, the cold metal biting into our hands as we descended into the darkness below. Ky waited at the bottom of the ladder for me and helped me down. The dim light cast shadows across his face, making his features appear even more intense.

His hand found mine, squeezing it gently. "You're okay," he stated more than asked, his voice a low rumble in the oppressive silence.

I nodded and looked around with a frown. The tunnel we found ourselves in was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

The walls were made of rough stone, slick with moisture that dripped from above, creating an almost claustrophobic atmosphere. The air was thick with the smell of earth and nauseating decay, the scent so potent it clung to the back of my throat. The ground beneath our feet was uneven, and every step echoed in the confined space, amplifying the sound of our movements. The darkness pressed in around us, broken only by the faint light that barely managed to reach this deep underground.

"Lovely place," Mel remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stepped off the ladder and joined us in the tunnel.

"Glad you're in good spirits," Dion responded with a wry grin.

The grate slammed shut above us with a resounding finality, leaving only one way forward. Ciaran led the way, his steps decisive.

The tunnel seemed to close in around us, the rough stone walls narrowing with each step. The moisture clinging to the walls made everything damp, the air thick and heavy. Every breath I took felt like it was filled with earth, the scent of decay lingering in my nose. I was so focused on moving forward, that I missed the beginning of a brewing disagreement until Ciaran came to an abrupt halt. Lana bumped into him, and the rest of us followed suit, nearly colliding in a chain reaction. Ky's hand shot out, steadying me before I could crash into Mel. His touch was firm.

"You wanna do this now? In a tunnel that smells like rotten flesh?" Ciaran questioned, his voice cutting through the darkness.

"Is that what we're smelling?" Hayven asked, her voice full of disgust as she tried to make sense of the foul odor.

"You'd really rather not know," Charon replied, his tone flat.

Lana folded her arms across her chest, her glare fixed on Ciaran's back. "Well, are you planning to tell me any other time, Ciaran?"

He turned around to face her. "Funny, you didn't have a problem with my keeping secrets last night."

"That again? It was sex, Ciaran, not a fucking—" Her words faltered, and she shifted uneasily at whatever she saw in his eyes.

The tunnel was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. Ciaran rubbed a hand over his face, an uncharacteristic sign of frustration. "Sometimes I think you shouldn't know," he admitted, his voice low, almost as if he were talking to himself. "But then I remember Puppet, and it's really fucking hard knowing you don't and realizing what will happen when you do."

Lana's expression morphed into one of confusion, her voice wavering with unspoken emotions. "You keep saying that, and I don't understand."

"That's the problem." He took her face in his hands. "But I love you regardless," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He turned and started walking again as if nothing happened and he hadn't just declared he loved her.

Mel and I exchanged uncertain glances. Hayven looked down, her usual lively demeanor muted, as if she wasn't quite sure how to process what she had just witnessed. Dion shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing. Ky's grip on my waist tightened, his face unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes told me he was deep in thought. Whatever was on his mind, he wasn't ready to share it just yet.

We kept walking, the tension almost suffocating as we moved deeper into the tunnel. My thoughts were plagued with growing concern. What had happened to Lana? To me and Mel? The more I tried to piece together the fragments of what I knew, the stronger a dull ache in my head grew, as if my own mind was rebelling against my attempts to remember.

Suddenly, a hand gripped the back of my neck, applying just enough pressure to bring me back to the present. "Stop," Ky's voice was firm, cutting through the fog in my head. Somehow, he knew exactly what I was doing—pushing myself too hard, trying to dig up memories that refused to surface.

I took a shaky breath, feeling the ache subside slightly under his touch. Mel, walking just ahead, had completely closed herself off. She hadn't said a word, her face a mask of indifference that made it clear she didn't want to be engaged.

Dion's voice broke the silence, drawing my attention away from my swirling thoughts. "You missed it, Grace—this tunnel is part of an old run-off system under the city. It should lead us to the building in front of the one we need to get to."

I jumped on the distraction, eager to focus on something else. "The building no one seems to know what's inside of it?"

"That would be the one," Maverick answered, his voice tinged with relief at having something to say, something to fill the oppressive silence.

"So where are Brody and Carol?" I asked, trying to gather together everything I had missed.

"Waiting for us. They sent the signal that all was clear," Lana replied, her voice steady, though I noticed a subtle tension still lingering beneath the surface.

"How did I miss all of this?" I asked, more to myself than anyone else.

Ky's hand on my neck tightened slightly in a possessive, reassuring gesture. "You were busy."

The memory of our night flickered in my mind, momentarily pushing away the anxiety that had been building. It wasn't as if I'd forgotten; I felt the reminder of him inside me with each step, and the subtle ache in my throat from the way he'd held me lingered, grounding me in the present.

Ciaran suddenly pointed ahead to what looked like a dead end, but then I noticed the rounded hole—a makeshift passage, barely large enough to crawl through. The metal grate that once blocked it lay discarded to the side. "Get down and crawl," he instructed, already moving toward the hole.

We hesitated only for a moment before following his lead, one by one lowering ourselves to the ground and crawling through the narrow opening.

He pulled Lana through and then moved her out of the way. The stone scraped against my palms, and the dampness seeped into my clothes as I squeezed through, the tunnel closing in around me until I finally emerged on the other side. The air was different here—less rank, but still stale and heavy. The tunnel we found ourselves in was almost identical to the last, but it was darker, with no visible light sources. The silence was eerie, broken only by the sound of our breaths and the faint dripping of water echoing in the distance.

Ahead, there was a ladder leading up to another grate. Ciaran was already halfway up, moving with a practiced ease. He reached the top and knocked against the grate twice, a dull, metallic sound that reverberated through the tunnel. We waited, the silence stretching until the grate above suddenly opened, flooding the tunnel with light from above.

"It's them," Brody's voice filtered down to us, his tone relaxed, as if he was merely stating the obvious. I could hear movement above, the faint murmur of voices, and the sound of something heavy being shifted.

"Let's go," Ciaran called down, gesturing for us to climb up.

One by one, we ascended the ladder, the light growing brighter as we neared the top. My heart raced, a mix of anticipation and unease settling in my chest. When I finally emerged from the tunnel, I found myself in a grand space—ornate and vast, with marble floors that gleamed under the light and high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings. The transition from the dark, suffocating tunnel to this opulent space was jarring, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Dion broke the silence first, his voice low, laced with disbelief. "We're in a museum?"

Mel glanced around, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Why the hell would they want a museum?"

"This place is more than it seems," Brody replied.

Lana's eyes darted around. "There must be cameras here, right?"

Carol nodded, her tone turning serious. "Yes, which is why we need to keep moving. It won't be long until we have company, and it'd be best if we're out of here by then."

I couldn't help but ask, "But if you've never been here before, how do you know where to go?"

Before Carol could respond, Brody cut in with a smirk, tapping the side of his head. "She doesn't. I do." He looked far too pleased with himself, like he'd been waiting to drop that little bombshell. Casually, he spun a rounded marble statue back over the grate we'd just climbed out of, sealing our entrance. "This way."

As we followed him, certain displays caught my attention. Paradise Island. Spencer Estate—all names linked to the Devil's Playground. What really unnerved me were the unfinished displays scattered about, shrouded in shadow. Some bore our surnames, a blatant reminder of how deep this twisted game ran. Others displayed names I'd never heard before, but the implication was clear: we weren't the first, and we wouldn't be the last.

We reached a grand staircase, its opulence making the situation feel even more surreal. Parts of the building were clearly still under construction, sections swallowed by darkness where the shadows seemed to stretch endlessly. The unfinished displays, the darkness—it all felt like a trap waiting to be sprung.

"Why are we going upstairs?" Hayven asked, from where she was walking beside Charon.

Brody didn't even bother to turn around as he responded. "There's an exit door up there. Found it earlier but didn't want to risk going through alone."

Maverick gave a low whistle. "Smart move."

I still had my doubts. "Is an exit door ever really just an exit?"

"Not usually," Ky replied.

Lana sighed, clearly trying to keep the mood light, even if only for herself. "So, we really have no idea what we're walking into?"

Ciaran glanced back at her. "We know the place we need to be is just behind this building."

As we continued up the stairs, the tension coiled tighter in my chest. Half the building was shrouded in darkness, the other half in eerie construction, with tools and materials scattered around as if the workers had just vanished.

When we reached the top, we all paused in front of a large exit door. Brody, his hand on the handle, turned to look at us, his usual cockiness replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open. As we stepped into a long hallway, the door behind us clicked shut, the sound echoing ominously in the narrow passage. My heart skipped a beat, the telltale sound of a lock turning into place.

"What the fuck is this?" Lana looked up and down the hall.

It seemed to stretch on endlessly, not a single other door or window but one doorway at the opposite end.

"They know we're here," Ciaran said, his voice calm but firm. "Let's move."

We walked down the hallway, our footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, coming upon the doorway adorned with colorful balloons.

Passing through it, we entered a stark white room plastered with unsettling cartoonish eyes that seemed to follow our every move. The longer I looked at them, the more unnerving they became, the bright colors only adding to the surreal and disorienting atmosphere.

"Is it just me, or is this room seriously creepy?" Hayven said, her voice tinged with discomfort as she kept her gaze forward, clearly avoiding the walls.

"If this is here, then this building is larger than it was supposed to be on the map," Mel pointed out.

I nodded in agreement, trying to suppress the growing unease gnawing at my insides. It felt like we had wandered into some twisted funhouse. When we reached the end of the room, we passed through another door, emerging into a much larger space.

This one was eerily serene, a vast chamber with smooth, tiled walls and a lazy river winding through it. The water reflected the soft, ambient light, casting an almost tranquil glow across the room.

"So, I'm not really feeling this as a museum," Dion commented, his attempt at humor doing little to ease the foreboding feeling in my chest.

"It's definitely more of a... surreal art installation, maybe," Brody replied, his tone carrying a mix of sarcasm as we took in the strange, almost calming scene.

"Or a really messed up dream," Lana mumbled under her breath.

Ciaran glanced back at us; his expression unreadable. It wasn't making me feel any better that the guys had never been here before. It was a to-be-discovered experience for all of us. We continued past the strange, winding pool, its gentle ripples lapping against the curved walls.

The faint sound of someone crying reached our ears—a haunting, hollow echo that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Are other people here?" Hayven asked.

"There isn't supposed to be—that includes us—but they seemed to know we were coming," Brody replied.

Did that imply someone close to us switched sides? We pressed on, each step echoing against the tiled walls. Eventually, we found another door, its surface smooth and unmarked. Maverick pushed it open and stepped through, leading us into a space that made my stomach drop. The room was expansive yet confining, with low ceilings and a labyrinthine network of walls that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. The floors were covered in a sickly yellow carpet that muffled our footsteps, and the walls were adorned with faded, outdated wallpaper.

It was by far the most rundown place I'd seen within the Playground—purposely done. that only added to the unsettling atmosphere. The space was reminiscent of a dream—or more accurately, a nightmare—where the environment constantly shifted, and reality felt just out of reach. As soon as we were all inside, there was a loud click, and the door behind us locked. Before any of us could react, a voice crackled through unseen speakers.

It wasn't Kinks.

Lana's voice rose above it, laced with confusion. "Who is this?"

The person was female, her tone smooth, and cheerful, but she couldn't top the original. I didn't think it was a good sign Kinks had been replaced this quickly. I worried for her. I wanted to ask what this meant, but the new woman speaking had all our attention for the moment.

"Welcome, my dear guests. It's so nice to see you've arrived.

This lovely attraction is new to the Devils' Playground.

Here's how it works: you have fifteen minutes to find a spout. Should you fail, well, let's just say you'll be all washed out.

Our masked friends will be joining you soon.

Be careful, though—the layout is always changing, and one wrong step might just see you melted.

Good luck and may the worthiest survive.

As our most beloved players, something extra special awaits on the other side!"

Mel's eyes narrowed, a flash of recognition crossing her face. "Her voice... it sounds familiar."

Suddenly, another voice echoed from somewhere unseen. "It's their ex."

Ky's grip tightened around me, even though there was no one we could see.

His eyes slowly scanned the expansive room, searching for the source of the voice.

"Jess?" Charon's called out, a rare strain of tension in his usually composed demeanor.

"As in, Jessica ?" Lana checked for confirmation.

A brittle laugh responded. "So you haven't forgotten me then?" She sounded…weak.

"Where are you?" Maverick questioned.

"I've been—please stop crying it's driving me insane," she stressed to whoever was with her. "We're behind a damn wall. Stuck. They dumped us in here."

"Days," another voice chimed in, sounding a tad more upbeat.

"Two days," Jessica, if that was her name, clarified with evident exhaustion. "If you wouldn't have shown up…" she trailed off and sighed as someone began to cry harder.

Lana reached back and adjusted her ponytail. "What the fuck is going on? Who told them this is where we were coming?"

"She said ‘their ex,'" Mel clarified. "Who is that?"

There was a brief, uneasy silence before Brody broke it. "Not my ex," he made clear, almost apologetically. "Just theirs."

"Is that plural?" I processed that and then looked up at Ky. "You all shared a girlfriend?"

The lights suddenly dimmed, casting long shadows across the walls. Dion, ever the strategist, had already been scanning the room, trying to map out what we needed to do. "There are square outlines in the upper part of some walls," he began, his voice measured and calm. "Those could be the spouts we're looking for. We need to—"

The unsettling notes of " The Itsy-Bitsy Spider ," slowed down to a crawl and distorted, filling the air, cutting him off mid-sentence. The song, twisted and warped, echoed through the room, its sinister melody making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

A robotic voice, devoid of any emotion, suddenly announced, "Fifteen minutes. The game has commenced."

There were no visible timers, just the cold, mechanical announcement to signal our time ticking away. The walls around us began to move. They slid in different directions, like pieces on a massive, deadly chessboard. We moved instinctively, just as one of the walls came sliding toward us on hidden tracks. The song played through twice, its repetitive, haunting tune driving us forward. As it reached the verse, "Down came the rain," large square sections of the floor flipped like a checkerboard. Metal grates appeared sporadically, the lights dimming even further until we were nearly plunged into darkness.

At first, I didn't think much of it until the sprinklers over the grates activated, and the sound of someone screaming—a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream—echoed through the room. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized what was happening. Just as Dion had predicted, the squares in the upper part of the walls slid open, revealing ladders that descended to the floor. Simultaneously, doors that had been seamlessly blended into the walls swung open, and masked figures entered the room, their LED masks glowing ominously in the dark.

The grates flipped back over, the sprinklers shut off, and the chutes and ladders vanished as if they had never been there. "Twelve minutes," the robotic voice announced, the walls seeming to grow more aggressive, as if they were sentient, pushing us toward the center of the room.

We moved quickly, trying to navigate the shifting maze and now the added threat that seemed to navigate the space with ease. Each turn was identical to the last, the walls pressing in with no discernible pattern. Suddenly, a wall slammed between us, separating our group. I found myself with Ky, Mel, Brody, and Dion, while Lana and the others were cut off on the opposite side.

"Keep moving! Get out as soon as you can," Ciaran's voice called to us, muffled but urgent.

We didn't have time to process. The maze was relentless, its shifting walls giving no reprieve. There didn't seem to be any set reason for the grates and chutes—only when the eerie tune randomly doubled back.

"It's going in two-minute intervals," Dion pointed out when the time clicked down to ten minutes.

We pushed forward, but the danger wasn't just from the maze.

As we rounded another corner, a masked figure appeared out of nowhere, nearly knocking me over. Ky was instantly there, moving faster than I could blink. He placed himself between me and them. I barely registered his small grunt beneath the cacophony of the music, but when I looked down, I saw the glint of metal protruding from his side.

Blood welled up, dark against his shirt, but he barely reacted. Instead, with a controlled fury, he lifted the masked person by the throat, his fingers tightening around their windpipe. As the walls began to slide again, he one-handedly shoved me toward the others, separating himself from us. "Get her out," he ordered, voice strained but unyielding.

"Ky!" I screamed, trying to push past, but Brody pulled me back, his grip iron-tight.

Another wall slid into place, nearly crushing me against the one Ky had just used to separate us.

This wasn't like before—he wasn't playing a game under the guise of finding his brother. He was hurt. And now, he was alone.

"Mel," I choked out, struggling in Brody's hold. "He's hurt! We can't leave him!"

"He'll be okay, Gracie," Mel said, her voice surprisingly steady. "We have to keep moving."

It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I knew she was right. We couldn't stop, not here. We pressed forward, moving through the labyrinth with increasing urgency. The timer counted down to six minutes when Dion shouted loudly enough for everyone to hear. "We're inside a maze! That's what the walls have been forming. Focus on the chutes, not the walls—they're our way out!"

His revelation gave us a new strategy. We began moving with more purpose, avoiding the walls, eyes scanning for the chutes Dion had mentioned. Just as we started to make progress, the floor beneath us flipped over, sending us sprawling like bowling pins. The sensation of falling was disorienting, my knees and palms stinging as I hit the ground hard. We scrambled to help each other up, the adrenaline masking the pain. But then, a new sound reached my ears—the rapid thudding of footsteps, heavy and purposeful, coming right at Dion.

"Dion, look out!" I shouted.

Everything happened too fast. Mel, with an instinct that spoke of a deep bond, shoved Dion out of the way, taking the hit herself. The masked figure crashed into her, the force of it knocking them both into the path of the acid spray from the sprinklers.

"No!" I screamed, my voice ragged with terror and disbelief.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air, sickeningly sweet and acrid. I tried to rush forward to help her, but Dion was suddenly there, pulling me back. "You can't! Gracie, you can't—" His voice was desperate, pleading, knowing the same fate would befall me if I got any closer.

"No!" I screamed and fought against his hold. The acid splashed onto my hand, burning through my skin like fire. I screamed, the pain searing through me, but all I could think about was Mel. Her eyes met mine, and in them, I saw the love and loyalty that had always defined her.

She mouthed, "I love you," just as the acid consumed her. The sight was unbearable—her skin blistered, blackened, and began to slough off in chunks. The masked figure fused to her managed to withdraw a weapon—something sharp and brutal—and slammed it into Mel's throat, ending whatever suffering she had left.

Her blood sprayed across the floor as Brody and Dion dragged me away, my legs numb, my mind reeling. A choked sob escaped me, raw and broken. The floor flipped back over, taking Mel and whatever was left of her with it, the walls closing in even tighter around us. Everything around me blurred—sights, sounds, and smells all merging into one horrifying cacophony. The taste of bile rose in my throat, the scent of charred flesh burning into my senses. My best friend was dead, and the realization crashed over me like a wave, threatening to pull me under.

"Gracie!" Dion's voice broke through the haze, shaking me back to the grim reality. "We need to keep moving. We have to survive this."

But my body felt like it was moving through thick, suffocating air, each step harder than the last.

I was barely aware of the pain in my hand, the bloodied skin raw and exposed. All I could think about was Mel—her sacrifice, her love, her brutal end.

"Gracie, stay with us," Brody urged, his voice tight with emotion. "We can't do this without you."

I nodded numbly, forcing my legs to keep moving, to focus on getting out of this nightmare alive. With every step, the weight of what I had just witnessed pressed down on me, threatening to crush what little resolve I had left.