Eliza's hands shake as she carefully rolls up the scroll. The only sound to be heard is the crinkling of the paper, then nothing. She doesn't have to guess what the others are thinking.
The whole reason they are stuck in this mansion is to play a Game?!
While news of the Game is shocking, Eliza can't get the bigger problem—for her, anyway—out of her head.
Zach is here. And she is pretty sure he made a move. What else do you call what just happened moments before they saw the letter? His lips were a mere inch away from hers! How could that not mean there is still something there?
If only he isn't here, she laments. If only she isn't here. Imagine all the work there is not getting done! Does the Blue Star think she's dead? What does Kassy Belle think of her sudden disappearance?
They've been partners and close friends ever since Kassy had joined training at age sixteen, when Eliza was only one year older. They were both recruited in the same year, and have been doing missions together as soon as they passed training.
God only knows how long it'll take before Kassy starts to notice that somethings up. It could take months before she sends out a request for a search mission!
With that dreadful thought, Eliza flops into one of the navy seats with a long sigh. She doesn't know which is worse: being around Zach or having to deal with people like James and London.
Speaking of the two, it seems that they are best friends now, chatting and laughing on one of the couches. Smith has his feet propped up on the small coffee table, and Presley has his legs crossed, not caring that is putting his dirty shoes on the furniture.
Eliza strains her ears to hear some of their conversation.
"You like her, man?" James asks, eyeing London curiously.
Are they talking about Eliza? She hopes not. It's hard enough to have to contend with London when he's apparently not making a move on her.
"Yeah, but she seems unattainable."
"Dude, you saw what her brother did to me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill you if you two were discovered to be dating." James points to his black eye, which is now a mixture of blues and yellows.
"Wow, thanks so much for the encouragement," Presley deadpans. James smiles that annoying grin of his.
James shakes off the sarcasm. "I can help you two get together, you know."
"Like you have any experience with girls," London scoffs. As if James feels he has to prove something, he stands up.
Oh God, Elizabeth thinks. This ought to be good.
"Hey, Zuri!" James calls across the room.
If he's going to start another fight, Eliza will kill him herself.
The dark-haired girl turns around. "Yeah?" She eyes him suspiciously.
"I like your hair!" he smiles, and London is nudging him not-so-subtly with his elbow.
Eliza mentally facepalms. Boys.
"I don't know what you're up to, James Smith, but you better stop it now because I'm sure many people in this room are more than willing to give you a good thrashing."
"I'll go first!" Naomi's eyes light up in amusement, though Eliza can't decide if she is taking it as a joke. Elizabeth, however, is seriously considering it.
She can't help but roll her eyes; these two truly are incorrigible.
"Nah, that's alright, ladies. No need to hurt yourselves."
Naomi smiles and turns to Sabine. "Don't you just love it when they think they can insult us?"
"Oh, yes, very nice." Sabine answers, advancing toward the boys. "Perhaps we should return the favor..."
Elizabeth's mind wanders off to another world. A world where she was still at home playing board games and good-naturedly teasing her younger sister Isabelle.
Ever since her parents' untimely death, Eliza has had to take care of her sister Izzy. That was back when her and Zach had first started dating.
She had really let him into her life; he'd become like a big brother to Izzy, unfortunately. When they had to split, Isabelle took it as another loss. Another person gone. Another death.
Her sister had gone into a bout of depression after that. Eliza had placed the blame on herself, considering that it was her who decided that she and Zach should break up.
"Elizabeth," a voice calls.
Isabelle is probably at home all alone wondering why her sister isn't home yet. She's only thirteen. She can't be left by herself for more than a day.
"Liz," the voice calls again, startling Eliza back to reality.
Zach is standing before her, leaning forward with his hands on either of the armrests, thus trapping Eliza in her chair.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he murmurs, looking around the room.
Eliza tries not to let her hands shake as she lets Zach lead her to the hallway. The last time he did this, bad things had happened.
"Zachary, if this is going to be anything like last time—"
He vigorously shakes his head, "No, no that's not..." he chuckles awkwardly. "It's about them." He nods to the door.
"What about them?" Eliza questions, tilting her head to the side. She wants to grin when she sees him gulp. She still has that effect on him, it seems.
"Do you have any idea who they are?" he asks. "Amelia Taylor, Emilie and Felix de Vanily, London Presley, Carolyn Nethers, Katarina Cuhmings, and," he wrinkles his nose in disgust. "And Sasha Volkov."
"Wait, Katarina Cuhmings? She's here?" Eliza looks warily at the door. Why are all these terrible people in the same room together?
"Not to mention that sketchy Chase. I don't like him, nor do I like Ricardo and Vivica. Those two need to learn to get a room."
Ugh! She has been so caught up with Zach being there, she completely forgot about Chase!
"Okay. Okay. What's your point?"
The candlelight flickering off his eyes adds this mysterious glint to them, one that makes it very hard for Eliza to concentrate.
"Considering who those people are it would be hard to know who to trust." A small smile comes to his face. "I'll give you a hint: trust no one."
Eliza leans back against the wall and smiles. "Oh, I see. You're saying that we should stick together and only trust each other."
"Exactly."
"There's only one problem with that," Eliza looks up at him through her lashes. "You can't trust me." She flicks him on the nose before walking back into the drawing room, leaving him standing there in shock.
"I know," she hears him whisper. "But I'd still trust you with my heart."
***
As Elizabeth walks into the room, she starts to wonder what kind of person would make such a horrible game.
Are they twisted? Evil? Insane?
Eliza can't decide.
How bad is this game going to be?
Seeing as everyone in this room is murderous and cruel, Elizabeth thinks, this game isn't going to be a fun one.
But there must be a trick.
Is it the Host? Have they already decided who is going to win?
Is it the Game? Is it rigged to the point where no one will win?
Is it the Players? Are they going to murder each other before they get a chance to lose?
She takes a moment to think about what she is going to do.
Eliza determines that she is going to make sure she wins.
***
Elizabeth decides that if she's going to be in a room full of murderous, conniving thieves, then she should at least try to listen and learn more about them. Even if it was just for information as to who is the most deadly.
The German kid, Otto, is sitting on the albino bear skin rug in the middle of the room, entranced by London, who is telling a story, gesticulating wildly.
Jenna looks no older than 15 years old, and is watching the room intently, though she seems to have fixated on the golden-framed mirror that hangs on the wall.
Elizabeth wonders how someone so young ended up in this twisted game. What did she do to be called dangerous enough to be here? To be part of the worst of the worst? Is she a murderer like herself, or perhaps a thief like the de Vanily twins? Eliza really hopes it's the latter.
Vivica and Naomi are talking in a corner, though Eliza can't discern whether they are arguing or just having a peaceful chat.
Elizabeth catches movement from the corner of her eye.
Samantha moves to stand next to her.
"What's your story?" Samantha asks.
"Why would I tell you that?"
"Maybe I'm just so charming that you can't help but tell me everything about you."
"You wish you were charming."
A few moments pass with the only sound being London's horrible story telling.
"What is she doing?" Samantha scoffs, flicking a piece of hair behind her neck.
Amelia Taylor is already looking around the room for clues. She starts by feeling the violet-painted walls, presumably to check for anything that is hidden. After she finds nothing, Amelia moves on to the odd portraits, ones of which have the faces ripped out, making those painted unrecognizable. She moves the beautiful landscape paintings, which have the names of each Player engraved on the bottom, of—
Wait. That painting looks...,Eliza thinks, starting to panic. It looks like the plaza back at home.
A/N: Please add this book to your library so that you are notified when a new part comes out and share it with others! I will be posting a chapter a day from now on, since all of them are prewritten.
This is draft one, but I hope you all like it. Beginnings are always rough.