Emily's Obsession

CHATPER 8: Guilty or not?

"The next task is Fire Hoops," he declared, his tone signaling the commencement of the next daunting challenge.

Camillo, disgusted with himself for landing in such trouble due to his own folly and desperate need for money, reluctantly prepared for the next task. Matthiew explained the rules, "As the name suggests, the Fire Hoops require you to jump through those hoops. But there's a twist. On the table to your left, there's a question that you must read aloud and answer honestly. In hoop you will jump through will lead you in another optional two hoops and another question on another table"

Approaching Camillo, Matthiew handed him a bracelet, which Camillo eyed with suspicion. "What is this for? To kill me directly, I guess," Camillo remarked hesitantly. With a hint of amusement in his voice, Matthiew retorted, "I would have already shot you in the head if I wanted to kill you." Taking a sip of whiskey and reclining in his seat, he continued, "That bracelet is to determine whether you're telling the truth or a lie. Each answer you give, whether true or false, will open one hoop for the two hoops present in front of you, and each hoop has its destination. You must jump through it, whether you like it or not. So be careful with your answers."

Meanwhile, Emily's boss, Miss Wilhander, kept her eyes fixed on the stage, her voice cold as she addressed Emily, "What do you think about him?" Startled by the sudden question, Emily asked for clarification, "About what exactly, if I may ask?" Miss Wilhander replied with a hint of amusement in her voice, "He's making quite an effort for the reward, despite knowing what will happen to him if he continues this challenge. He's still there, ready for the next challenge." Her tone was analytical, her gaze piercing.

Emily ventured a response, "Maybe it's because he's in dire need of money and is doing all of this for his family." Miss Wilhander's laughter echoed in the room, though her expression remained cold. "You're rather naive if you think that. He's too desperate in his case to do it for his family," she remarked dismissively. Undeterred, Emily offered another possibility, "Perhaps his wife or children are seriously ill or need money for their education." Miss Wilhander's response was more contemplative this time, "Most likely possible," she conceded, her voice tinged with intrigue.

As Matthiew suddenly remembered, he said, "Ahh! I almost forgot about it... Before we start this next task, I need to ask you: will you continue this challenge or stop there and go home, which is the better option for your situation?" Taking another sip of his whisky, Matthiew's demeanor remained calm.

Camillo, already in agony because he couldn't walk with his injured leg, considered the offer as an opportunity to survive. However, he hesitated, unsure whether to continue or not. His thoughts raced, "What will I do now? If I give up, that means I got my leg broken for nothing, all those efforts just for nothing." Glancing at his injured leg, he added, "But with this leg broken, I think I can't do anything. I can't even walk with it."

Matthiew, impatient, interjected, "We're waiting for your answer," rolling his finger around his glass of whisky. Camillo, with a hint of regret in his voice, finally said, "Alright, I'll continue it."

In a quiet whisper, Matthiew remarked, "That's what I was thinking," while Emily, in her thoughts, exclaimed, "But he's crazy!? Why take such a risk!? What a fool!!"

Matthiew, now excited, declared, "So let's begin the task then," raising his glass. "First of all, you must go to the table and read the question aloud so I can hear it correctly. Then answer it. After that, you'll need to jump through the hoop that will open and light up on its own."

Hearing the instructions, Camillo approached the table, pulling his injured leg in agony. He took the paper with the question and read it aloud, "In your life, what is the most regretful thing that you did and that torments your mind all the time?" Camillo scoffed, "Seriously? Of all questions existing in this world, that's what you choose?"

Matthiew, sternly, urged him to answer, "Just answer the question, please. And don't forget to think well before answering." Camillo, with a tormented expression, looked down as he recalled the painful memory. "Her gaze, when I killed her, it said a lot. As if she was asking why? What did I do wrong to you? Why me? That gaze never left my mind. I always see her, and I often have nightmares of seeing again the moment when I stabbed her. Sometimes, I think about her family, if she even had one," he said, wiping his tears.

As he finished, a hoop opened, indicating it was time to pass through it. With difficulty, he prepared himself and jumped through the flaming hoop. His injured leg made it difficult, but he pushed through the pain, landing on the ground with a scream of agony.

Miss Wilhander addressed Emily with a cutting remark, saying, "Quiet and pathetic move." Emily, taken aback, responded with surprise, "What do you mean, Miss?" Miss Wilhander's mocking expression remained as she explained, "That's not what he regrets the most, though it may seem that way."

Emily, still puzzled, countered, "But he seemed sincere when he said that." Miss Wilhander shook her head dismissively. "It is sincere, but not deep enough to describe a truly hurtful regret. Seriously?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "A random woman ? Perhaps it was his mistress, who know"

Pausing for effect, she continued, "He already committed another murders before that one but only got in jail for one murder, which isn't fair. Then why the only murder he regret is that one?" Her tone was cool, yet chilling.

Emily, uncertain whether to agree, hesitantly replied, "You're right, Miss." They both turned their attention back to the stage, where Camillo landed on the hot ground, screaming in pain. "What the hell! It's hot! My foot! Ahhhh!" he cried out.

Every 20 seconds, the ground fluctuated between hot and cold, leaving Camillo in agony with his burning foot and broken leg. Matthiew's voice cut through the chaos. "Go to the table and read the next question if you want to get out of there."

Camillo continued to scream in agony as he crawled toward the table, his body trembling with pain. Struggling to stand, he read the question aloud, "What is your biggest fear?" Tears streamed down his face as he shouted, "Screw you! I'll not say anything!" His cries intensified as the pain from his burning foot worsened.

Matthiew, unfazed, took another sip of his drink, his voice icy. "As you wish, but it's only between you and me. Why hide things?" Camillo, his body drenched in sweat and shaking with hesitation, confessed, "I'm afraid that one day my wife and my children will find out what I did. I'm afraid that I'll lose them because of my mistake."

Matthiew nodded, satisfied. "Interesting," he remarked, as a hoop opened before them. Camillo, steeling himself for the next challenge, pushed through the pain. Despite the searing sensation in his foot, he summoned his resolve, reminding himself, "You can do it, Camillo!" Gritting his teeth, he rose to his feet, limping toward the hoop. With a final scream of pain and exhaustion, he leaped through the hoop and landed on the ground, his body wracked with pain and fatigue. Finally, he took a deep, shuddering breath, tears of exhaustion and despair staining his cheeks as he lay there, utterly spent.