Fear Games

1. Make It Out Alive

EMERALD

Standing in front of me was a man that I never thought I would meet in my lifetime. In fact, my mother, along with Eden Walker, thought that he was most likely dead. But nope. Josh Mitchell, one of the only remaining Fear Games survivors, was here before me in this dark dungeon where I was trapped. I had so many questions. There were millions of different things that I could ask. But I found myself saying the first thing that popped into my head:

"What the actual fuck are you doing here?" It wasn't exactly tasteful, but considering I was being held captive against my will, just saw one of Kael's friend's heads just get blown off, and had a bullet lodged in my ankle, I didn't care if I said the word fuck. And I was pretty sure that he wouldn't either.

Josh knelt down before his, his dark hair showing little grey spots in patches. His facial hair was grown out a bit, but it was definitely kept up with. He didn't look like a complete homeless person. When he smiled at me, everything in my stomach immediately started churning like butter.

His voice was raspy as he said, "Emerald, you look so much like your mother. She was always one badass bitch."

"Thanks, but that doesn't really answer my question," I said, seething at the pain from my ankle. I closed my eyes, trying to wish this all away, but when I reopened them, I realized I was still in hell.

Figured.

"I'm here because I am trying to save you all," Josh Mitchell said as he stood up. He walked to the other side of the room, which I couldn't see too clearly because the room was so damn dark. Still, he continued talking. "The killer wants to play this as a Game. This isn't just a typical serial murderer. This person, they..." His voice trailed off, and for a second I thought he'd left the room. Then he finished, saying, "There's something wrong with them. I don't just mean psychologically. There's much more going on here than even I realize. I'm still trying to put the pieces together myself."

"Okay, all this vagueness is seriously just pissing me off," I said, still holding Colton's white shirt (which wasn't so much anymore) to the bleeding wound.

When Josh came back in through the shadows, he was holding a mug, which I assumed held some kind of beverage. He knelt back down in front of me and handed me the cup. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do I know this isn't going to kill me?" The mug felt warm in my hands, and I had to admit that I was considering drinking it. I was dying of thirst to the point where I didn't care what it was.

"If I was going to kill you, it would be a lot more fun than just giving you poison in tea," Josh said. He sat criss-crossed in front of me, clasped his hands together, and smiled again.

"Can you stop doing that?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Doing what?"

"Smiling. Like we're friends or something. Just because you knew my Mom and auntie twenty years ago, does not automatically make you my friend. It barely makes you an acquaintance. In fact, at this particular moment, I'm thinking you're more of an enemy."

"Drink the tea your enemy just gave you," Josh said softly. It was hard to even be mad at him because he gave such a peaceful presence. But there was something I couldn't quite figure out about him. And it was making me uneasy.

"So, this is a game," I said, taking a sip of the tea. Mmmm, seemed like it was chamomile. Yum. "How do we win it?"

"Well, with a game, there's always rules," Josh said. "With this Game, the Player hasn't exactly been fair because they haven't made the rules explicitly clear yet. Except that you need to try and survive."