Six bodies scatter like diseased rats in a maze built of nightmares.
I slip my goggles over my face. The world turns green and alive. Blood pulses in shadows. Fear sweats in droplets. My fingers twitch.
“You ready?” I ask my brothers. They nod, goggles locked in. Hearts still. Trained.
“Each of them,” I say, “has an appointment with death.”
No one else is allowed weapons, not the initiates, not the volunteers. Butwe’re Devils. Wearethe weapons.
This isn’t just fun.
It’s judgment.
This is how we clean our kingdom.
I move out slow. We give the pigs a head start. Let them believe there’s hope.
There isn’t.
We made sure of it, perimeter locked down, trails rigged with flashers, no way off the grounds unless we drag their bodies there.
They can’t see shit out here.
We can.
You fuck with us… you get hunted. That’s the rule. That’s the oath.
A branch snaps nearby.
I freeze.
Through the trees, I catch a twitchy silhouette, clumsy, breathing like he’s dying already.
Kevin.
Perfect.
I crouch low, watching him stumble through the dark, hands slapping bark, knees buckling every few steps.
He’s terrified. Good. I used to love playing with toys. Kevin’s just a new model.
“Kevin…” I whisper, letting my voice slither out like smoke. “Keviiiin…”
He whips around, nearly falls over. “Who the fuck is that?!”
“Which one of us do you think you should fear most?” Karter’s voice slams through the trees like a blade.
I hear the hit before I see it, CRACK, a grunt, then silence.
Karter steps into my view, his fist dripping, his smile pure Joker.
Kevin’s out cold, face-first in the dirt.
“I’ll take him back to the basement,” Karter says, dragging him like a bag of rot. “You finish the rest.”
I nod once.
And then I vanish into the trees.
