Seek and Slay

A bump and the sound of something rolling across the wooden floor. The rolling slowly comes to a halt and silence falls once again. Almost silent. I’m struggling to breathe. The air feels thinner in here. Another thirty seconds pass before I have to give in. Pushing the wardrobe open slightly, I let the cold air pour into my lungs, inhaling gratefully.

Peering through the tiny slit, I can see that there is nobody in the room. The room is exactly as it had looked before I climbed into the wardrobe half an hour earlier. Except, the plastic cup that was sitting on the bedside cabinet is now lying on the floor at the foot of the bed.  I scan the room, my heart quickening. There. By the crimson floor-length curtain. Movement. So slight I would have missed it if I wasn’t looking for it. But it’s there. Someone is in the room with me.  

Somewhere in the house the Grandfather Clock strikes midnight. It’s chimes echo through the cold hallways of the manor house. The game has begun. Twelve people in total plus the Seeker. Cousins, siblings, great uncles. They’re all here for the game. Afterall, a great prize awaits the winners.

My heart pounds painfully against my ribcage. Hands quivering, I grip the knife in my hands harder, so much so that my knuckles turn pale and start to sting. I slither out from the wardrobe as quietly as possible. Deep breaths. If all goes to plan, I can finally live the life I’ve always wanted. I must win. There is no other option.

The curtains ripple before me like a river of blood. They rise and fall gently, parallel with the breath of the figure behind the curtains. In complete silence, I plunge the knife through the curtains. I don’t wait around to see who has fallen. The sound of a body collapsing to the ground as I leave the room. Eleven to go.

The hallway is dimly lit, candles in iron brackets lining the walls on either side. It’s quiet. As I walk through the long corridors of the manor, the growing sense of dread inside me bubbles quietly just below the surface. If I survive the night, my soul will not.

The sound of something crashing sends me leaping into the air. It came from one of the rooms nearby. With trembling hands, I throw open the closest door. Empty. So are the next two rooms.

I approach the last room in the corridor. A square window at the end lets in a patch of moonlight, casting the space in a ghostly blue. The sound of the blood throbbing in my ears make it difficult to concentrate. After a silent count to three, I push open the door. The hinges whine softly as the door swings open and I step into the room.

There’s a fallen coat-hanger sprawled across the floor near the large bay windows. The multiple heavy coats beside it suggests it fell simply because of the unbalance. But there’s a pricking at the back of my neck that gives the unshakable feeling that someone is watching me. I slowly turn around.

A girl is hidden in the shadows behind the open door. Squinting through the darkness, I realise that it’s Emily. My younger cousin. Only just turned eighteen. She smiles at me before putting a finger to her lips. Lowering her finger again, she mouths the word “hide”.

I step towards her and she frowns.

“No, hide somewhere else!” She hisses.

She hasn’t noticed the knife yet. I take another step towards her. She’s frowning now, her face scrunched into an annoyed expression. I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking that I will blow her cover and rob her of the grand prize. Oh, she has no idea of what is to come.

As I take the last few steps towards her, her face morphs from annoyed to terrified. Finally, she has noticed the knife gripped in my hands. Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me in horror.

“Eirene…” She whispers. “What are you doing? You’re not the Seek -”

Darting forward, I thrust the knife into her chest, covering her mouth with my other hand. Her Bambi eyes stare at me, wide with shock. I don’t let go until she collapses to the ground. I close the door on the way out.

After combing through the remaining rooms on the upper floor, all of which were empty, I grow increasingly worried. I check the time on my mobile. Thirty-three minutes left. Ten people to go. Not enough time.

The manor is huge and unfamiliar. I have visited here only once before, when I was eleven. My parents were visiting my great-grandmother. I’ve never seen her in person though - my parents didn’t let me. Something about an illness or something. They were lying, something I only figured about a few years ago. They lied about a lot of things.

A burst of hearty laughter sends me jumping into the air. It’s coming from down the hallway. My Great-Uncle. I’d recognise that laughter anywhere.

“I’ve found you Thomas!” He declares, followed by another chuckle. Another man laughs too, presumably Thomas. My cousin-in-law. I mentally check him off on my list. Nine to go.

I need to hide. There’s a large treasure-chest looking box just down the hallway. I clamber in quickly, lowering the lid as slowly as I can bare. The lid closes over me with a muffled thud. It feels like a coffin. Panic bubbles inside of me and I squeeze the knife for comfort. It feels sticky.

Footsteps. Getting closer. I desperately supress the growing sensation of claustrophobia and focus on deep breaths. In and out, just like my therapist told me to. Before he died. In and out. Just breathing. The darkness is suffocating, and I slide my phone out of my pocket, illuminating the space with its tiny glass screen. It does nothing but reinforce the fact that I’m still inside a tiny box.

A floorboard creek from outside. He’s here. Right outside the box.

“Cassie!” The Seeker booms. I lie there frozen to the spot, not daring to breathe. Running my thumb over the grip of my knife, I reassure myself that I will use it if he opens the box. Open, stab. One swift motion.

“I can see you behind the curtain my dear!” Seeker laughs that hearty laugh again, and I hear him walk back down the hallway.

He’s gone. When the footsteps fade away, I clamber out of the box. The hallway is deserted once again. Eight to go. Adrenaline courses through my veins and the faintest of smiles flickers across my face. I can do this. Twenty-five minutes left.

I find my jackpot when I reach the kitchen. Two pairs of feet poking out from underneath the dining table. If I can get rid of these two, then I only have six more to dispose of.

I walk through the kitchen as silently as possible. Going barefoot was a smart move tonight. Not a sound as I cross the tiled floor. The knife has become sticky and slippery all at once, the blood mingling with the sweat from my palms. I can feel my pulse in my thumb. The crippling sense of dread and madness is creeping up on me again and I bite the inside of my mouth to shake me back to reality.  

I lunge under the table, thrusting my knife forward, the blade finding it’s mark with ease. But something is wrong, and I fall back in surprise. He’s already dead. In fact…they both are. Two bodies lie still, their limbs contorted in funny angles, eyes staring vacantly ahead. My brother and his wife. With a trembling hand, I close their eyelids and plant a kiss on their barely warm foreheads. No time for mourning. Six to go. Nineteen minutes. The game is almost over.

A quick check through the lower floors on the mansion reveals that nobody – nobody alive, that is - is in the house anymore, though I can still hear some movement upstairs. Seeker is still on the move, but I can deal with him later.

I make my way to the conservatory. The rising sense of dread fills my chest as I stand in its glass skeleton, threatening to consume my sanity at any moment. But I’ve come this far. I just need to get through these last few minutes and the games will be over. I push open the glass door and enter the garden.

The air is icy outside, my breath releasing delicate wisps of steam, like little phantoms escaping into the night. My feet crunch lightly on the frosted grass as I trudge through the garden towards the shed. The cold stings the soles of my feet.

The lights are on inside, small slithers of light peeking through the gaps of the wooden walls. The remaining survivors must be in the shed.

I didn’t expect six people to be left, all waiting for me in the shed. I had hoped there would only be two. Four at the most. But six? Now I’m not too sure. The sound of my pulse thrums in my ears and I resist the urge to claw at them.

Sixteen minutes.

I’ve been putting this moment off all night, making sure that this shed would be the last place that I will visit tonight.

I bang the door open.

Five people stand along the back wall of the shed. They stare at me in silence. They’ve been waiting for me all night.

Great-Aunt Megan smirks at me from the middle of the group, her cold eyes scanning me from head to toe, lingering on the blood-encrusted knife in my hands.

“I see you’ve already claimed your victims tonight,” She muses, her voice laced with disgust. She knows I’ve spilled blood tonight – the same blood that runs through all our veins.

“I didn’t think you had it in you. Slaughtering your own kin for the sake of a prize.”

I ignore her. She’s trying to throw me off. I will kill again tonight. I just need to keep my sanity. But a peel of laughter bubbles from my chest. They stand there, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Oh, they have no idea. Their ignorance is beyond ridiculous. The irony, the irony. I’m not the insane one. Not yet.

I don’t hesitate. I throw myself forward, stabbing the knife at any target unfortunate enough to be closest to me. It burrows in somebody’s stomach, but the knife doesn’t go in deep.  Before I can pull my knife out from flesh, there’s a flash of metal and a loud bang. A high-pitched ringing in my ear. A searing pain in my abdomen. I look down. With a sinking feeling, I see the blood pouring from a burned hole in my t-shirt.

I sway on my feet and struggle to focus my eyes on anything or anyone. I clamp a hand over the wound, blood instantly coating my skin. I’m going to die. But the revelation doesn’t scare me, like I always thought it would. Instead, it feels like a great weight has lifted from my shoulders, and I realise that, I’m okay with dying. I’ve lived a good life. Always done the right thing. And with that, I realise that there is just one more thing for me to do tonight. Kill the others.

My second-cousin Michael is standing just a meter away from me, the gun dangling limply in his hand. With a burst of renewed motivation, I leap forward, snatching the gun from his hands before anyone can move. There are several gasps throughout the room. Swinging round, I point the gun away from me, but my vision blurs and I struggle to keep my arm steady.

Michael lunges towards me and I fire. The bullet finds its target. Four. I fire again. Three. And again. Two. And again. One. And now there is Megan, Seeker’s wife. How furious he would be to find I’ve killed her. I grin at the satisfaction this brings.

“You’re in big trouble, Megan.” I laugh. A clot of blood erupts from my mouth, red saliva dribbling down my chin.

Megan looks at me, eyes filled with rage and hatred. Understandably, since I’ve just slayed her whole family.  

“Why are you doing this, Eirene?” She says, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

I would explain myself. She deserves to know why she must die tonight – a small shred of mercy that I can afford to give. No doubt Seeker has made previous arrangements to keep her alive tonight. But time is running out and frankly, I’m exhausted. I lift the gun, but I can barely muster the energy to aim. I fire blindly and miss. The second shot strikes home, and Megan falls to the ground.

“I win.” I smile to myself, before letting myself slide to the floor. Michael is still alive. I can see him breathing. So is Martha, who’s gulping in air like her life depends – well it does. But they’ll die soon, just like me. I close my eyes, leaning my head against the damp wooden boards. My job is done.

“Forgetting someone?”

My eyes fly open, and I sit up. The movement tugs at my stomach and an involuntary yelp escapes my lips. In the doorway of the shed is my Great-Uncle. The Seeker. I smile weakly. I used to be so afraid of him. The very mention of his name used to send shivers up my spine, terror through my heart. He killed my parents. But I’m dying, now. He can’t hurt me anymore.

“The games can’t continue, now.” I say, relaxing against the wall once more. “Who will compete in the rituals now? Only the Upper Order is left, and once you die out, the traditions of the Order die too. You will die a miserable old man, and you will take your secret to the grave.”

I don’t know how I thought he’d react. I’d planned this moment in my head for years. Anger? Fear? Sadness? What I didn’t expect was for him to smile.

“But there’s still a few members of the Order left.” He says calmly, crouching in front of me. The gesture reminds me of an adult explaining something to a small child. “The Markson bloodline still thrives.”

“No.” My breathing has turned ragged and unnatural, each word draining the remaining life I have left in me. “I killed them all. And I’m dying too.”

I cough again and a splatter of blood lands on the toe of Seeker’s boot. He looks down at the stain, eyes devoid of emotion, before kicking his boot at my side. I slump to the side, the gun sprawling from my hand. I lie there, laughing at the murderer crouching above me. Revenge really is what I’ve wanted all my life.

“You miscounted, Eirene.” The voice snaps me out of my delirious state. Besides Seeker is Sarah, Emily’s sister.

“You think it would be that easy to destroy the Order?” She sneers, her bony figure standing over me. “Generation after generation, we have overcome every obstacle in our way. The rituals shall continue, and a new committee will ascend to the upper ranks of the Order.”

Seeker grins at me, his yellowing teeth protruding from his chapped mouth. “Eirene, meet Sarah, the newest member of the Upper Order. Game over little girl.”

An alarm buzzes in my pocket. My phone, signalling the arrival of 1:00 am. The end of the games. I have failed. The games will continue. In twenty years-time, the next generation will compete to ascend to the Upper Order, where a life of luxury and riches awaits. But also, a life full of sin, full of cruelty, full of murder.

Twenty years ago, my parents were killed in the games by Seeker. The Order stole my childhood from me. I’ve been patiently waiting for my time until my it was turn; and I vowed to kill everyone that took part in the abomination. Halt the cult for good. Halt the sadistic competitions that take place every other decade, open to all blood members of the Markson’s over the age of eighteen. The children of those who I’ve killed tonight – I would have taken them all in as my own, raise them to live a good life, far from the Order’s reach. With no new ascenders, no new blood, the Order will eventually die out.

But I have failed. The games shall continue as they have done for hundreds of years.

I have killed tonight. Does that make me a bad person? Whatever awaits me now, after death, Heaven or Hell…