Darwin's Game

Chapter 6 : Jason Wrighter

Jason Wrighter

                        Well first things first, I need to clear up a few things. I’m not as ruthless and evil as you might think I am. Well, maybe a little bit. I mean growing up, I always dreamed of becoming this Oompa Loompa slave-driver at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Of course when I found out that it wasn’t real, my dreams were crushed… like everything else in my life. Anyway, that isn’t the point.  But you guessed right, I’m a one of a kind creeper. I’m that sweet sensitive guy that always ends up being the jerk in the end and the malicious criminal that was actually the tragic hero. Anyway, I guess that explains a lot.

                        I run my fingers through my hair self consciously. My jet black hair never stays in place, but now that we’re in the dark it doesn’t even matter.

                   So the game has started, we all know that. And the smart ones know that I was the predator in the dark, so what? The fact is… you’re nothing if you don’t win. It’s like winning second place in a race. If you don’t win gold, you’re not the best. Of course I’ve never won gold in anything…except that one time, when I stole the medal from the winner. Anyway back to the point, being second or third isn’t too different from being last, especially in a game like this. So if I did kill that kid, I’m not sorry. It’s his loss, and I don’t really care. He’s dead, it sucks. But that’s life.

                        I wait in the dark silently covering my nose and mouth with one hand to minimize the sound of breathing. This technique is especially useful because it ensures that the victim won’t smell your breath or feel it on their neck when you’re right behind him.

                        That kid, I think the girl called him “Bennet”, never had a chance. I’m a pro at sneaking around. With all the mirrors in that room, it was perfect. There was no way that I could’ve been seen with a dim glow stick and all the reflections served as a distraction.

                        Of course I have to give Monica some credit. It was her idea to shoot the boy, but she’s a lousy shot. All the crashing created the perfect amount of confusion. I think we nearly drove that guy insane. He panicked after a while and he started smash the mirrors with what I think were his bare hands. My guess is that he’s either insane and extremely stupid or brilliant beyond measure. If he’s truly brilliant, then I would guess that he was trying to get rid our advantage of the mirrors. Otherwise I’d just label him as reckless and stupid, because the glass would have created a lot of damage to his hands.

                        Hopefully that kid will bleed to death; I did a lot of damage to him. Now I have a plan of my own. I’ll leave Monica to go after the girl and I will go and scout out the area. This mirror room might just serve us as a nice home base. From what I saw the other girl is as good as dead, anyone can see that. She is loud, innocent and frightened. Obviously she won’t have the guts to play this game. That leaves only one option for her, die. Monica’s smart, she’ll take the girl down easily.

                        Maybe I was wrong, or just plain stupid. Why did I give Monica my shoes? Now I’m stuck barefoot on a concrete floor covered in glass. It didn’t make any sense to give her my advantage. I was going to have to kill her in the end anyways. So why did I do it? I did for some sort of strange love at first sight. I did it because she was beautiful and irresistible from the moment I saw her. I did it for her. Sure, maybe it’s true that I’m a player and a man whore, but I’ve always had good intentions. Like I’ve tried to explain to you before, I’m hard to understand. At first sight I’m a quiet loser. You get to know me and I turn out to be the sweet lovable kid. Peel back another layer, you see that I’ve always been a jerk. And once everything calms down, you finally realize that there was really nothing there at all, and getting to know me was in vain. So I’m not even going to question what I do for her from now on. It’s the easiest way to go.

                        I head off in a different direction from Monica. My feet are cold and bare, but it does please me to know that I’m silent. Not quiet, but every step I take is absolutely silent without a doubt. I grin for just a second, letting a trace of my emotions show. Glass covers less and less concrete and every step I take right now is a little more bearable. There was a way to avoid the glass, and this was it. My feet aren’t covered with glass shards as I thought, and I leave no blood trail to follow. This was good. I didn’t anyone to follow my trail. It would give away my position.  I must not stop and marvel; I have to travel fast.

                        I continue to conceal my green glow stick under my jacket. I want to keep the light as dim as possible, otherwise you’re just a glowing target.

                        The narrow corridor of new mirrors doesn’t last as long as I thought. I hesitate before taking out my glow stick. My senses strain to be sure that I’m alone. I grip the glow stick and begin to reveal it when a screeching sound meets my ears. I freeze. The mirror is making noise? That’s a new one. I reach out to touch it, but my fingers don’t meet glass. That sir is a wall. They move along the concrete surface as if in a trance. Wait. Wood? Metal? Door handle? Door! Bingo. Door equals room. Room equals source of noise. Source of noise equals you guessed it. I smile and take out my glow stick while I twist the knob.