How I ran away

How I ended it

I wake up on a cloud. No, a mattress that feels like a cloud. The room is fancy. With a canopy over the bed that matches the thick red carpet. A rick wooden dresser stares at me. A wall sized window draped in red lets the sunlight in. but there is something else. An empty feeling. A loss of something I’d grown accustomed to. But I’m not sorry went away. The pain. My arms my legs. The wounds, shredded skin—nothing. Rubbing my hand against the skin on my arm, I feel it smooth to the touch. Something that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

                The room is quite spectacular.

                Oh. And the sword.

                It’s lying on the night table beside the bed. Old fashioned and beautiful. A hilt of rubies.  I sit up and reach for it. Pick it up. As though it triggered some alarm—which it probably did—the door opens.

                A man comes in. He is thin and old. Not a hair on his shiny head. His fingers around his wooden cane are thin and bony—like spiders. He is wearing a butler’s uniform.

                “The Master wants to see you.” He says.

                “I don’t want to see the Master,” I say.

                “You don’t have a choice.” He says.

                I clutch the sword close to my chest. His eyes don’t waver from my face. My eyes don’t waver from his. I nod and swing my feet over the side of the bed. Stand up. I expect the pain when I stand. It doesn’t come. I walk on steady legs over to him. My eyes don’t move from his.

                He nods, turns and walks out the open door. “Follow me,” he says as if I need any more indication. He doesn’t say anything about the sword so I keep it with me. Wonder why it was left for me.

                He leads me past doors. Never pausing. Never stopping. That is until we reach the end of the hallway. Where the menacing door looms. It’s not the door that sends shivers up my spine. It’s what I know stands behind it. What I know is there—who I know is there.

                “My name is Spencer by the way,” he says. As if I care. As if I’ll need to know.

                And then he swings the door open.

                The man I know as Master sits like a king in a thrown. A man who knows he has the word at his fingers. When in truth he was sitting by a desk in an office chair with his feet up.

                His hair is streaked silver. He has piercing eyes and wears a smile that says he’s up to something.  

                “Thirteen,” he greets with a smile. I look around and see Spencer closing the door. Nobody else. He means me. Thirteen.

                “My name is Holly,” I say coldly. As if I needed reminding to that part of my life. The part I hoped to leave behind but in truth stuck to me harder than ever.

                He ignores that, “So it’s just you then? I know Fourteen is dead already. She didn’t last too long. But how about Ten? Or Twelve?” He shook his head.

                “Shut up,” I growl. Like he doesn’t already know. Like he didn’t set it up. But Ten. How many others are out there alive. Fighting to live?

                “Are there any others?”

                “You survived the longest. By far exceeded expectations. That’s why I felt it worth it to heal you. Fifteen lasted a week. Sixteen is alive but barely. I stopped         after that. I still had you. And Two. He went missing a month ago. No telling what’s happened to him.  Everyone else is dead. Gone.”

                Silence spreads between us. I wish I hadn’t asked. I really do. I didn’t want to hear that. That’s exactly why he told me. Master always makes me feel like that. Always has a way of putting me down.

                “I want it all to stop,” I tell him. Looking him straight in the eye.

                He laughs, “Em?” he calls.

Footsteps sound behind me. The handle to the door squeaks as it turns. I turn around just in time to see the door thrown open and Em walking in. Walking in her careful gait. Eyes calm but alert.

“Van Zyl didn’t follow my orders then? I guess I’ll have to kill him,” she shrugs. Speaks about killing in no different a tone than she would talk about the weather. That sickens me. no love existing there.

“Kill him and I’ll kill you,” I say wondering why I’m sticking up for the murderer. Dan. The killer who saved me.

“Aw, the little girl is making threats,” she croons and stands next to Master. In a place she knows she’ll have power. She is his assistant then. funny this is the way things worked out.

“Shut up.”

“Is that a—”

Em starts but Master stops her, “Now Em, Holly” he scoffs at the name, “came here to see me for a reason. Why did you come here Holly?”

“I came here to kill you,” I say clearly.

Master laughs wildly. Laughs and laughs. The laughs don’t die down. Until finally when he is wiping tears from his eyes.

“You can't kill me. I’m your master.” He says.

I lift the sword.

“I gave you that sword. Left it for you over there because I know you can't do it. Can't kill me.”

“You—I can,” I raise the sword higher.

Em moves a bit. Raises her hands as if to stop me.

“Don’t touch her, she won’t do anything,” Master says.

“I came here to end the game,” I clarify. Talking to myself now more than anyone else.

The sword is high over my head. I know I can do this. Know I will do this. Know I have to. He can't keep living.

This game went on too long. Have to end it. Have to stop it.

“The game will never end.” Master says.

 “Not with you alive,” I say.

And I bring the blade down.