THE MASKED FIGURE WAS COMING IN!

My brain cells liquefied on the spot, everything else frozen in place. The world swirled in slow motion, my sanity slipping out like water through a crack.

The soft chuckle turned into high-pitched laughter as the door continued to scrap open at a relaxed pace.

A frenzy of gushing blood surged in my ears, heart mauling at my chest like a vicious wolverine.

"My Hunny-Bunny," the masked figure cooed, white robe dancing along the threshold. The figure had the door open about a quarter of the way when an item in their other hand caught my eye.

The fluorescent lighting glinted down on a hammer — the kind my mother used to slaughter our family.

That jerked me into motion, electricity shooting through my veins like jumper cables on a car battery. My feet skidded across the floor as I ran toward the threshold, throwing my body weight against the door like a battering ram.

Sizzling pain shocked the left side of my body, but the door closed with a loud thud.

A soft cackling broke out on the other side. "My daughter, I want to see you," the figure said, tone soft and airy.

With my body still against the door, I slide up and locked it. This time locking all three locks.

"My daughter, I want to see you," the figure said again.

"Fuck you," I panted, the electric adrenaline still coursing through me. "Stay away from me."

My eyes closed, the sight of the hammer still in my thoughts. The last time a hammer like that was in my presence, it was soaked in blood, dripping on the white carpet.

My mother held it in her fist as she and Angie struggled. Both of them covered in blood, screaming and wrestling.

Imagine walking in on that at seven. I just got first place in my school's spelling bee and was bringing my red ribbon home to show my family. And instead of happiness, I walked in on the worst day of my life.

Memories of that day were still spotty. The last thing I remembered was my mother and Angie wrestling with the hammer while my dead brother laid on the kitchen table, head gashed open, eyes blank.

My therapist said I probably repressed everything from that time, and that even what I remembered could be wrong. I didn't know. I never tried to analyze that day; I just wanted to forget.

But this show wouldn't let me.

"But I miss you," the figure spoke again, a metal sound scraping against the door between us.

"I hate you," I said, placing all my weight against the door. Everything tingled, especially my fingers as a thick weight blanketed my shoulders.

"Really?" the figure said, tone soft once again. "I love you."

"If you loved me, then why did you kill everyone?" Single droplets spilled down my cheeks, mixing in with my long eyelashes.

My mother ruined everything with one decision. She murdered our family and let the two survivors live with her burden.

The tears kept streaming, coming down like the drizzling rain as my current situation just hit me. I could die.

I'm literally on a murderous television show, and I could die at any minute.

One of the contestants could take me out. Or the next challenge could land me in the bottom doe three, and I bet Gmie would rally and petition to get me voted off.

Shaking my head, my emotional barriers began to crumble, and I started to get real with myself.

I was going to die. I would not survive this game.

Betinia wouldn't last here. Not against Rucker who could kill without hesitation. Chi who could seduce anything and lie without blinking. Gmie who was bossy and could make people listen to her, easily manipulating them to do what she wanted. Fee who was huge and could probably pick up a truck. Sebastian who was liked by everyone, easily making allies.

Me — I was nothing. No skills. That realization made my brain want to explode, realizing that my days were numbered. Death would soon be knocking at my door.

Tini could make it here. Maybe. But at what cost to my mind? To my psyche? Once I let her out full force, what would become of me? Would I be able to even recognize myself?

Is life worth becoming like my mother? A bloodthirsty person who kills everyone she loves? I didn't know.

But it frightened me.

"Why did you kill our family?" I screamed at the door, clawing at it with nails as the tears poured down. "Why did you have to ruin everything and fuck up my life?" The clawing at the door broke my nails, creating deep indents as I continued until agony and blood surfaced from my efforts.

Streaks of crimson ruined the paint on the door from my bloody fingers that were now all chipped, broken and bruised. Thick blurriness consumed my vision, as my head felt almost weightless and airy. "Why did you... why?" I whispered, feeling cold.

This game was breaking me.

"Why?" the figured asked back.

"Yes..." I whispered, feeling myself fall to the floor.

"Because of you," the masked figure said so clearly that it made my heart hurt.

Me?

♟♙♟

A large yawn scratched my throat as my sore fingers rubbed at my eyes.

Last night was rough. The masked figure haunted my dreams and my waking thoughts, making it hard to sleep and get peace of mind.

That last line ran through my head on repeat.

"Because of you," the figure said.

Me? It wasn't my fault that my mother massacred my whole family. How could that even be possible? It couldn't be. Probably just the people in the game messing with my head again, trying to make me break. But some part of me couldn't shake it like maybe it was true.

I spent the morning cleaning the blood off my door, wincing at the pain in my fingers. They were a bloodied mess, but I disinfected them with soap until they looked semi-normal.

A pounding filled my mind, making me feel sluggish as I left my room with a cameraman following behind me.

Entering the kitchen, Fee cooked at the stove like usual, but he seemed different. More on edge. His arms tensed and bulged as he slammed pancakes and sausages onto plates.

Guess everyone's visitor got to them in some way or another. Everyone probably went through some intense mental trauma last night.

"I can't," I heard a voice say.

Peering to the left, Demo and Aries sat in a couple of chairs in the adjoining dining room, heads bent low. They were a good distance away, but their voices traveled along the hollow walls.

"Why'd — they do that?" Demo said, close to tears.

"Cause they're fucking monsters here," Aries said, voice tense. "I can't believe they got someone to pretend to be my dead ex. That was fucking creepy. Scared the balls off me."

"They got people to look like those men," she said, shuddering. Her accent was clearly real, but she spoke English better than she said she did. Hmmm.

"I'm sorry for that," Aries said in a tender tone. "Last night had to be traumatic for everyone."

"She —" Demo cut herself off when she looked up and saw me standing in the kitchen. Whispering low to Aries, they both shot me a dark look before running off.

Fee continued to add food from the fridge to the stove and then to plates like he was working an assembly line. Cooking must be his way of coping with stress.

Grabbing one of the recent plates that I saw him make from beginning to end, I ambled over to the island, hoping that I could use food as an escape from my stress.

The food tasted even better today, sweet and salty in all the right places. Fee finished another plate, leaving a total of five on the counter.

I closed my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the quietness before a thin sliver of scorching heat tickled up my arms. Flinging my eyes open, nothing seemed out of place. Fee still cooked, and we were still the only ones in the kitchen.

I went back to my plate, but something caught my eye. Four plates nestled the counter. Wasn't there five before? Going through my memory, it confirmed that there was five plates before.

Another missing plate. I didn't hear anyone come into the kitchen though, but I did get a weird feeling for some reason.

I cursed my curious, overacting mind. I had bigger things to worry about then missing plates. Going back to my food, I enjoyed the amazing flavors.

In mid-bite, Gmie hustled into the kitchen, hair waving back in forth as she searched for something.

Coming up empty, she zeroed in on me. "Where's Demo?"

I kept eating, not looking up from my plate. "Don't know."

She sucked her teeth and grunted. "She was just here."

I shrugged. "I'm not her keeper."

Gmie turned on her heels and slammed the kitchen door shut behind her.

She wasn't my only interrupter. Right when I was about to delve back into my food, letting the delicious taste and aroma take me into a deep escape, someone else walked in, instantly making me alert and ready.

Fuck.

♟♙♟