The Devil's Hand

The Reunion of the Dead

I opened my eyes to blaring lights. My head shot forward, the feeling of horrid whiplash spread throughout my skull as my head was sent flying back. I reached up to rub my neck but my hands were tied. I panicked and glanced around my prison. The white walls of doom covered the room. This hospital-like place sent back memories, memories of bleeding arms and angry boys. This room was the room of hell. My muscles ached, wanting to kill. A taste of mold filled my mouth - a dirty rag had been used to muffle me. I bit down on the rag, filled with the uncontrollable rage that follows confusion. My hands squeezed tight.  My eyes faded to black once again...

* * *

        He knew he was locked up. He knew why he was here. He knew what awaited him. He knew he had survived so far. He knew his clone was dead. He knew where he was. He knew who did this. He knew what tied him down. He knew everything…

* * *

        Cuts and bruises still covered her body. Metal was still wrapped around her hands. She opened her eyes, she shut them immediately, not wanting to face the truth. She knew that girl was dead. The girl had never wanted the food offered to her, instead the girl shook her head. She had watched that girl die, she had seen the game end, and she hated the fact she was locked up, ready to die…

* * *

        He tried to move but ropes held him down. Bright light filled his eyes yet he kept them open. He only knew the Crow was gone. Squeezing his eyes shut he imagined the face of the boy. His dark black hair was never found. He knew that boy was dead. The blood of the Crow was splattered on his shirt, his legs weary from running. He didn’t care that his arms were broken, all he wanted was the memory of that boy to leave. Although he tried to imagine other things, like how to escape, his mind kept drifting back to a head on a stick…

* * *

        She snarled, biting the rope that held her down. She didn’t care why she was here, she didn’t care that Sanlief was dead. She only thought about how to get revenge. Pure hatred filled her gaze, blood filled her mouth from the space of her missing teeth. The taste of blood would have annoyed others but she thought it tasted nice. Spitting the liquid flesh out of her mouth, she growled like a wolf. Rogue tried to reach for her dagger but her hands were pulled back. Screaming, she threw herself up, stretching for the ropes. But no matter how hard she pulled, the ropes would always fling her back. But she kept thrashing around, screaming nonsense…

* * *

        Groaning, I tried move again. Always the results were the same. It didn’t matter how hard I pulled, how hard I pushed, I was always thrown back. A year ago- No, if Chloe had survived she would of screamed. If she had survived it wouldn’t have mattered, because the force of resisting was killing me. I was lying on my death bed. But I couldn’t die, not yet. I had to win this game, Chloe was only a distraction. I was glad she died. She was weak. Just another opponent out of the way. I only wished I was the one who killed her. I killed her once, why not again? I knew I was a murderer but I didn’t care. This killing fest would be over soon, and I would rise out of a pile of blood.
        I smirked, it was all going to be over soon.
        “The next round of the game will begin soon, so I decided to drop by.”
A quiet voice interrupted my thoughts. The sound was hushed, like the speaker didn't want to be seen. That could've fooled me but I could recognize that voice anywhere.
“Where’s Crow?” I managed to ask.
“He wasn't found, the game ended first. And you know what happens when you fail.”
I shuttered, although I didn’t really like Crow that much, his death reminded me of failure, are the penalty that come with it.
I force the words out of my mouth, “Crow failed.”
I felt the figure next to me nod. “I am surprised too, I already thought he was insane, biting me like that.”
I swallowed, panic slowly receded out of my eyes. “Are you here to watch me die?” I asked as the ropes pulled down on me.
“No,” he said, “I am here to watch you succeed.”
I tilted my head, trying to glimpse the boy that I already knew was the King. I already knew he was the King, but I didn’t know which one. Throwing myself forward, I tried at least to come into a sitting position, if only for a second.
The eyes I met were kind, pitying. I stared into them. I had been betrayed. These were the eyes of a murderer. The King had broken his promise. This was the face of an assassin. The King cheated. Those were the eyes of a maniac. The King lied. The King lied. The King Lied. The King Lied.
A sudden bolt of anger shot through me. Screeching, I thrashed around, trying to reach the boy. He back away in fear, reminding me of Relyt. Relyt, the thought made me scream with fury.
It was all Crow’s fault. Crow distracted me, Crow made me a murderer. And I loved it. I loved the blood. I loved the feel of the bones crunching. Those pitting eyes were all Crow’s fault. All Sebastian’s. Those eyes pitied me. Those eyes knew my hunger for blood. Those eyes knew the need to kill. Those eyes would let me free.
“Hurry!” I yelled, hoping for too much.
Slowly, the boy moved over to me, his eyes glaring. As he reached my side, the boy pulled out a dagger. The blade was fresh with blood as he licked it clean.
“Free me!” I shouted, unreasonable panic in my voice.
He raised the dagger high above my head, ready to strike.