What happens when a bunch of killers are forced to live together?
BATTLE OF THE KILLERS is a reality show that follows Betinia Woods, a girl kidnapped and forced to live in an underground bunker with twelve other killers. The bunker is equipped wit...
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HEADACHE. A whirling ache sprinkled throughout my scalp, waking me from my drunk-filled slumber. Soft groans poured from my lips as I tried to move my body, but it wouldn't budge.
My eyes blinked, the bright lights attacking them like antibiotics on bacteria. Shit. I didn't even feel this bad when I woke up in that abandoned room a few weeks ago.
It took several long minutes of me blinking my eyes before they adjusted. The pool room slowly swam into view, along with the mass of bodies surrounding me.
Yaz and I were lying vertically with our heads resting on Rucker's chest and stomach while Khan and Sebastian slept on our legs. Everyone was still covered in sticky food. Parts of me wanted to laugh at the view of tangled body parts, but my pounding head halted all sounds.
Alcohol was the devil. Never again. It was fun in all, but this after effect? Fuck that. The pain in my head started to become so great that I just settled back in place, hoping I would go back to sleep.
Betinia.
My body jolted upright, ignoring the swift agony as I heard my name being called once again. Just like all the times before.
I moved so fast that I kicked Khan who was lying on my thigh. He shuddered awake and yawned. "Uh, my head," he whispered, sitting up.
"Sorry," I said, looking around the messy pool room, trying to see where the voice came from. I heard that voice at least three times now. Who was calling me?
"It's okay," Khan said, wiping his eyes before turning to me. A shocked expression covered his normally blank face. "Fuck."
Khan never cursed like that before. Well not since he was on E earlier. "Is the ex still in your system?" I asked before chuckling.
He ignored my question and pointed to my face. "Did you guys do that after I passed out?"
I touched my face. "Do what? We all passed out together." When I glanced down at my fingers, bright pink lipstick stained my tips, a light strawberry scent hitting my nostrils. "What the hell's on my face?"
I kept touching my face, seeing more pink lipstick covering my hands. The strawberry scent was beginning to make me feel nauseous. My gut told me this wasn't some joke from my teammates. Someone else did this.
Khan leaned closer, eyes brightening. "Someone put X's all over your face in pink lipstick." His eyes left my face, catching onto something behind me. That's when his face paled. "Oh shit."
"What?" I turned to follow his gaze, kicking Sebastian and elbowing Yaz in the process. On the tiled wall behind us, written in the same pink lipstick that was on my face, it read:
X marks the spot. Layla was first. You're neXt.
"Holy shit," I whispered, feeling the blood in my face harden. Layla's killer was in here with us. They could've killed all of us last night, but instead, they wrote on my face.
