89 | Mr. or Ms. X

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SEBASTIAN. His voice rang through my door, loud and clear.

"I've been knocking every day," Sebastian said on the other side of the door. "She won't answer."

"Well, she needs to stop sulking, and Rucker needs to get his shit together," Yaz snapped. 

"I tried too," Khan said. "I think she's just ignoring everyone."

"I hope she's okay," Sebastian said, voice covered in worry. "You don't think she did anything to herself, right?"

"Rucker told me she's been texting him," Yaz said.

"You've been talking to him?" Sebastian asked.

"Barely. He's all up in his own ass right now," Yaz said before sighing. "He tried yelling at me about her, telling me to tell her to stop texting him. Like bitch what? I almost smacked the taste out his mouth. No one yells at me."

"This makes no sense," Khan said. "We were all fine just days ago."

"It's fucking Rucker," Sebastian said in a rough tone. "He called me every soft name in the book, yet he's the one acting all emotional."

"Hey," Yaz said, banging on my door. "Bitch get your ass out here before I kick your ass. We need you. Rucker will come around soon."

"Yeah, please open up," Sebastian said.

"Duke needs you too," Khan said, and I heard a bark.

Wait, they didn't blame me for all of this? Maybe—

"Hello, my little contestants," Jookie said over the loudspeaker, causing me to break from my thoughts. "Have you guys been having a good rest period? I hope so because that shit's over now."

"Oh goodie," Yaz muttered.

"It's time for a mini-challenge," Jookie screamed, hurting my ears. "Our guards just got finished putting bags all over the house, and you all must find and grab one — only one. Do not open it or you'll be shot on sight."

"That's a little extreme," Sebastian said.

"Each bag is filled with a special perk for the next challenge," Jookie said. "Some are good, and some are bad, so you better go with your instincts and choose a good bag. You can steal someone else's bag if you think they have something good, but again, you can only have one. It's everyone for themselves. You have one hour. Meet me in the common room once you've chosen a bag."

"Shit," Yaz said. "Betinia, answer me. You better do this challenge."

"Answer or we'll lose the challenge together," Sebastian said.

"Yeah," Khan said.

They would all do that for me. I couldn't ask them to do that for me.

I coughed, trying to find my voice. "Just go. I'll find a bag. I just need a second."

"Girl, I will skin you alive if you're lying and you're not in that common room in an hour," Yaz said, and then I heard all of them disperse.

I struggled to my feet, feeling a stiffness in my limbs from lack of use. Shrugging it off, I made my way to the bathroom and cleaned my face and took deep breaths.

Kill yourself.

I wouldn't listen to the voice. Ever. "Fuck you," I whispered to myself before leaving my room.

The scones attacked my eyes, making me blink a few times before the hallway came into sight. Loud screams and grunts clashed against my eardrums, as hard footsteps echoed across the area, squeaking against the floor in a hurry.

People were fighting over bags already? I walked down the left hall and spotted Chi slapping the shit out of Demo. Demo stumbled back, and Chi snatched a light brown bag with a knotted drawing out of her hand.

"Bye, bitch." Chi laughed while running down the far hallway.

"Fuck you," Demo screamed, clutching her bandaged hand to her chest. She looked a bit better. Her eye was still bandaged, but she appeared less sickly. Gmie was nowhere to be seen.

I avoided Demo, going the other way. No bags. I searched up and down the halls and the laundry room. Still no bags. I made it to the outside of the kitchen and paused when I saw Rucker stomping down the hall.

He saw me and clenched his fist around the bag in his hand and ignored me, walking passed me like I was nothing.

"Rucker."

"Stop texting me," he snapped. "Just stay the fuck away from me." He continued stomping away, never looking back.

His words hurt so bad that my chest blazed with a slight pain. How could I fix this?

"Thirty minutes remaining," Jookie said over the loudspeaker.

Crap. I didn't have time to think about this right now. I needed to find a bag asap. I searched the hallway and found nothing, so I made my way into the kitchen.

The fridge, the cupboards and the ovens were all empty. I made it into the pantry and that had none either. My eyes spied the armoire. Opening it, a big bag sat atop the newly purchased cans, and when I grabbed it, a toxic strawberry scent took over my atmosphere.

Then a quick hand gripped my hair, pulling me through the small crack in the back. A deafening crunch erupted as my body broke the patched wall. I screamed, plunging downward into darkness, bringing all the cans with me.

My arm slammed into the floor first, soft agony skirting through my elbow and spreading to my whole body when it hit. I rolled fast across the hard floor like a demented tumbleweed, moving deeper into the darkness.

I slammed into a hard object as the noise of rolling cans surrounded me. One of the cans sucker-punched me right in the forehead as the rest clashed around me, creating a lopsided angel figure.

Tight groans slipped from my mouth, as I blinked, trying to see through the gloominess, body aching. The only light around me glowed in the far-left corner, a tiny spotlight forming from the pantry lights shining through the now giant hole in the back of the armoire. It was too far away to be of any help to my vision. Dark gray and spots of midnight colored my sight as I struggled to sit up, arm burning.

Betinia.

That voice came again, but this time, it wasn't in my mind.

Oh, Betinia.

The next time the voice spoke, the voice changed completely, but I knew it was the same person.

Come here, wittle piggy.

My ears couldn't pinpoint where the voice originated.  With my vision impaired by the blackness, my senses were limited, but I could feel the cold floor and mixed cans underneath my palms and the draft of cold air tickling up my neck.

And I could smell.

A strong strawberry aroma saturated the air like smoke in a forest fire, clogging my throat. I coughed.

"Betinia," the unfamiliar voice said. "You were so naughty for thinking I wouldn't grab you when your team wasn't looking."

Layla's killer.

Wrapping the drawstring of the bag around my wrist, trying to create a weapon, I swirled my head around to hear the voice better, adrenaline pumping through me now. I didn't recognize it. They were using one of those robotic voice changer things, so everything came out distorted and sometimes staticky.

I tried to crawl to my feet, but something kicked me hard in my ribs twice. High-pitched cries shot from my lips as my body toppled to the side, head hitting the floor.

"You couldn't just die like cute little Layla, could you?" The voice laughed. "I spent four days — FOUR DAYS trying to get you to slit your own pretty little throat. But no."

The tip of something hard crashed into my tummy, knocking the air out of my lungs, and I plopped onto my back, the coldness from the floor making the pain more intense.

I moaned and tried to move but my muscles were still a bit stiff from earlier. Shit! Move or you're gonna die.

Before I could make a decision, short fingers latched onto my ankles and dragged me away from the light and deeper into the darkness of the room.

A piercing wail itched at my dried throat, as my head bobbled against the floor, sending flecks of pain across my skull. The rough floor scratched my skin as I wiggled and clawed at the floor like it was the only thing between me and death. My nails broke and bled as they dug into the ground, the vibration from the moving making them hum in sharp agony. 

"You're such a stubborn mutt," the voice said, tugging me like I was a rag doll. The fingers held on tight and flung me. I bounced into a metal surface and landed on my knees hard.

How were they seeing me in the dark? Night vision. They must've had some sort of goggles on. A loud cranking sound erupted through the dark atmosphere, and a foot jabbed me in my back and slammed me forward on my face.

Instantly, my lips pushed together and shielded my teeth from connecting with the floor. Everything else scraped against the concrete, tiny fibers of anguish shifting throughout my face. Dizziness took over everything, and I couldn't control anything for a few minutes.

While I was out of it, a thick plastic rope bonded my hands together over my head, and an ice-cold metal rubbed against my neck before moving upwards. Soon, the pressure of something tugging me upwards emerged, intensifying in my arms.

It felt like someone was trying to pull my arms off my body while trying to pick me up. It hurt really bad for a second until my body got picked up off the floor, feet dangling.

Loud clicks stroked my ears, and the tugging stopped, my inner biceps touching my cheeks as my body hung upright by my arms.

I wiggled my body, hoping the extra weight would break the bonds and make me fall. It didn't. It creaked and then a foot kicked me in my damaged side again, making me sway in the air.

I took deep breaths, trying to eat the intense pain and not panic. There was a way out of every situation, but I wasn't sure about this one.

"Don't you look so pretty? All plump and swinging," the voice said and laughed. "You're like a cute wittle piggy waiting to be slaughtered." 

A smooth surface kissed down my body, slicing through the side stitching of my shirt. Once it was cut, they tore the rest of my shirt from my torso. The icy air ticked my nakedness, making me quiver.

"Why so quiet, little piggy?" the voice whispered and punched me in the face. Their small knuckles lodged my teeth into my cheek, blood gushing into my mouth. "Why no oink?" They punched me again. "Oink for me. Oink, piggy. Oink."

I spit out some blood, hoping it hit them in the face. "No."

"Fat piggies don't say no. They listen to their masters." The tip of a sharp object sliced across my naked back.

My back arched in response, trickles of blood flowing down my skin. I closed my eyes and breathed, adrenaline making my heart thrash in my chest. You've dealt with worse. Stay strong.

"Oink, piggy. OINK!" Slice after slice after slice happened. The skin on my back burned like a hot poker on weak plastic.

Tiny droplets formed in the corner of my eyes as my teeth sunk into my lip, digging in enough to draw blood. I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't make a sound. I would never give them the satisfaction.

"No oink? You're a naughty piggy," the voice said, coming in close, static hurting my ears. Harsh breathing splashed my face as that strong fruity aroma raped my nostrils. "I like naughty piggies though. They taste good." A wet tongue licked up my stomach to my rib cage, doing circles before nibbling me. "But I can make you taste better." 

The flick of a lighter opening caressed my ears as a tall flame warmed my body from behind. Seconds later, hot sticky liquid dripped onto my back, slipping into my raw bloody cuts as a sweet poisonous aroma clogged all my senses.

Fierce penetrating agony, the worst I've ever felt in my life, seared my entire body, damaging every cell, organ, muscle, and tissue. I hiccupped back a scream, salty tears streaming down my face like a stormy day.

I couldn't breathe. It felt like my lung stopped working. All I could do was feel the severe pain of the scorching liquid dribbling into my open wounds, as an eager tongue gobbled at it, intensifying the agony.

I gargled, chest convulsing as everything in me throbbed and trembled. "Ti-ti-," I whispered between quivers but I couldn't finish.

"My piggy tastes so good now," the voice said and licked my back again. "You gonna oink for me now? Oink, piggy."

The lighter opened again, and that intense pain shocked me again. Too much this time because all that agony made everything suddenly numb and my head became airless and light.

I slumped forward, head cushioning on my chest as my body swung to its own dying rhythm. I was going to die soon. My body couldn't go on like this forever.

"Ah, you're such a weak piggy." They slapped me, causing my eyes to blink but my head never raised. Layla's killer sliced me again. "Oink, weak piggy. Or die."

I didn't want to die. Not yet. Not now. On that thought, I mustered my last bit of strength and whispered, "T-Tini. I c-can't do t-his one."

My eyes closed, and I sunk deep within myself, drilling for that black gem — that true dark piece. But I still couldn't sense her. Instead of giving up, I kept on, plowing deeper into my mind, trudging through the murky sewers and sludge. My nails delved through the rust and the past, getting filthy and destroyed but soon enough, I found my gem. Cleaning off the surface, I chipped at it like pulling the petals off a black rose, each piece falling delicately while slowly showing me the innards.

Soon enough, I saw her smirking up at me.

Honey, you rang? I need you. They're going to kill us. Why you always gotta come for me when you're in danger? You could've easily invited me to that pool party. Seriously? I couldn't feel you for what felt like weeks now. You abandoned me, remember? Well, I had shit to do. Shit to do — just save it. You just got scared of mom. It's mother, and no I didn't. I just needed a break, and I'm better now. And here you are waiting until the last minute to get me. Why you always gotta be a bitch? Are you really going to call me a bitch now? While you're begging for help. If I die, you die. Point taken.

Within seconds, tiny black dots formed on the bottoms of my feet and slurped up my body, forming into thick streams of inky fluid, infecting every muscle, organ, and cell of my soul. It crept up my body until it reached my brain where it slopped into every crevice, masking every light part, completely taking over.

Cracking my neck from side to side, a cheeky, wide grin slithered across my chapped lips, getting wider by the second. I'm back, bitches. You miss me?

♟♙♟

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