Copyright©2018 by Matt Shaw

Matt Shaw Publications

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The characters in this book are purely fictitious.

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The Game’s

SEASON BREAK

Sequel to “The Game”

MATT SHAW

PART ONE

A Weekend Away

*

EARLIER

Blackness despite eyes being wide open.

Her breathing - fast and shallow - drowning out other possible noises. She caught her breath and held it a moment hoping to hear something - or someone - which could give her some clue as to where she was. A pipe clanking somewhere overhead… Maybe even coming from the same pipe she was secured to. Her wrists cuffed together around the pipe overhead and her bare feet barely touching the cold floor. Her arm sockets ached from the unnatural position. A heavy metal clanking as a heating system slowly banged itself to life, at least - that’s what she presumed it was. An old building trying to warm itself up. Other than that and the sound of her own heart beating heavy in her chest, there was nothing. She released her breath slowly, hoping to calm it enough so as not to hyperventilate; especially under the heat of the thick, black hood covering her head and causing her to sweat.

She didn’t want to call out yet she knew - if there was a way out to be had - she’d have to. ’Hello?’ Her voice was meek and quiet with a quake in the tone. The clanking pipe filled the silence that followed her call. She tried again, ‘Hello?’ The clanking pipe… Except it wasn’t the heating system kicking in. It was the masked figure at the end of the corridor standing there and watching the trapped girl struggle.

Occasionally the stranger would hit the overhead pipe with another smaller pipe gripped in his gloved hand. The pipe with which he planned to bludgeon her to death. Under his own mask he was smiling menacingly. His immediate life presenting him with two options: let his presence be known through conversation or through a sudden violent swing of his pipe. Watching her, knowing who was under the hood, he couldn’t say which way his mind was going to sway.

*

The firewood crackled as the flames continued to lick at the night’s cold, crisp air warming the group of twenty-somethings sitting around it. A group of five camping through what was turning out to be one of the coldest nights of the summer so far - as was often the way when plans were made. For a moment, there was silence as they each pondered the story being told of the woman hanging in the basement and the mystery figure standing there, watching her. Paul was the first to laugh, not that it surprised Robyn. Having broken up a week prior she was surprised he had still even wanted to come. When she found he was coming though, she knew it would be for one of two reasons: One, he wanted to try and get back together with her and, two, he wanted to spend the time belittling her in front of everyone else. From the moment he jumped out of his truck and called her a “slag” she realised it was the latter he was intending.

Robyn had been the last to tell a story around the campfire - a stupid suggestion by Gloria who was desperately trying to recreate the camping trips they had shared when they were teenagers. The whole trip had been her idea. While some of the group had wanted to go overseas to enjoy warmer temperatures than the British summer usually reached, she couldn’t have afforded it having lost her job. Her old work-place another victim of a struggling economy. For the last three years they’d all gone on holiday together and none of them wanted to break that tradition. Especially when Gloria was already depressed enough about finding herself unemployed. It didn’t seem fair to shrug it off and go away without her. So, camping it was.

None of the stories had been any good. Either their imaginations had started to fade as “adult-life” took a hold or they were just easier to scare now. Regardless, Paul hadn’t laughed at anyone else’s story.

‘What?’ Robyn snapped. All night he had been digging at her with snidely little comments. Whilst the others hadn’t picked up on them, she had. She’d picked up on them all and it had been pissing her off from the moment he first rocked up and called her a “slag”. For the record, she wasn’t a “slag” as he so eloquently put it. There had been no one else involved in the break-up, she just couldn’t see a future with him and so had done the right thing. Going by his reaction, she had really done the right thing! Her reaction was enough to startle the others but not enough to stop the idiot from laughing. What made it worse, she could tell it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a fake, forced one that was clearly done to get under her skin. Well, congratulations, he’d achieved the mission he’d set out to complete. ‘You’re a fucking idiot,’ she said as she stood up. She brushed herself down and walked away from the roaring fire.

The group just sat and watched her a moment before darkness swallowed her form. Then, one by one, they turned to look at Paul. He stopped laughing.

‘What?’

‘Dude that was uncool,’ Jackson Levine said.

‘The fuck? I found her story funny and I laughed. What’s uncool about that?’ Paul immediately jumped on the defensive, trying the best to look innocent to them. Just as Robyn had known what he was doing though, so did he. He wanted to get under her skin but not to be cruel. He wanted her to notice him. With the mentality of a young child, he was being cruel in the hope she’d love him again. That being said, if the odd word did cause her a little pain - so what? She had hurt him by saying she no longer loved him. High-school sweethearts and then, out of the blue, nothing. That hurt far more than him calling her a “slag”.

‘Should I go after her?’ Gloria asked as she peered into the darkness in an effort to see her friend.

‘She’s a big girl. Fuck her. She wants to storm off?’ Paul was getting annoyed by their reactions. None of them had been sorry to see the break-up, at least not sorry enough to offer their condolences or a shoulder to cry on and yet suddenly they’re all concerned because Paul didn’t like her story?

Mikey, the oldest of the group by a year, spoke up, ‘Mate, go and talk to her.’ He was looking directly at Paul whilst Lynn, Mikey’s girlfriend, cuddled in under his arm. Mikey’s free hand was working the controls to the GoPro camera he’d brought with him; a little recording device to capture the antics of the weekend. This was one part of the evening he didn’t need to be taping.

Unlike the others, Lynn wasn’t getting involved. She was lost to the hypnotic dancing of the flames in the makeshift fire-pit.

‘This is such fucking bullshit,’ Paul hissed. He got up and walked away from the fire, following in Robyn’s footsteps.

The rest of the group sat in silence for a moment before Jackson broke the ice.

‘Well,’ Jackson said to Gloria, ‘you wanted to try and recapture the teenage years…’ He laughed. ‘I think we’re actually pretty damn close to it to be fair.’

Gloria didn’t laugh. ‘Do you think she is okay?’

‘He’s being a dick. She’ll be fine.’

‘I can’t believe he still came personally,’ Mikey said. He gave Lynn a squeeze. ‘Sorry about this, it’s not normally like this…’

Jackson chipped in, ‘To be fair - with those two - it usually is…’

The others laughed again.

‘It’s fine,’ Lynn said.

Lynn was the only one there who was relatively new to the group having only met Mikey a year ago at a work-do. She worked in another department and it was the first time they’d actually gotten a chance to speak. What had begun as a drunken fling quickly turned into a full-blown relationship. Impressive given, when Mikey woke the following morning, he couldn’t instantly recall her name.

Lynn cuddled into Mikey. This trip wasn’t her idea of fun. The idea of some home-grown drama about to kick off at least added a little excitement. All that was needed, to really enjoy the impending shouting match, was some more marshmallows to toast.

‘Sort it?’ Mikey called out to Paul as he came back towards the fire’s welcoming light.

‘Can’t find her.’ Paul took a seat on one of the logs they’d dragged to the fire.

‘What are you talking about? Did you check her tent?’

Paul looked at Mikey, unsure if he was purposefully being a dick. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I thought I’d go all the way over there and check everywhere but her fucking tent…’ Paul continued, ‘She probably went into the bushes to change her fucking tampon…’

‘Jesus, Paul…’ Gloria looked at Paul with complete disdain.

He shrugged. ‘Just saying what everyone else is thinking.’

‘No, really, you’re not.’ Jackson turned to the rest of the group. ‘I wasn’t thinking that.’

‘No. Only Paul was.’ Mikey sighed.

‘I’m sure she’ll come back when she realises she was being a complete dick,’ Paul said.

‘Yeah, she was being the dick… You know, would it hurt you to be nice to her? Just for this trip at least?’ Mikey stared Paul down until Paul looked away with a shrug.

‘Whatever.’ Paul stood up again. ‘I’m going to turn in. Get an early start out of this shit-hole in the morning.’ The group was supposed to be staying in the woods for two nights yet none of them tried to persuade him to stay. No one said he was being stupid. He’d been a dick from the moment he’d arrived - name-calling Robyn as he climbed from the van. They all knew that, without him being there, it would actually be a more pleasant break away from the rat-race. ‘Fuck all of you…’ Paul’s last words as he walked back towards where the tents were pitched.

‘Yeah, nice. Always a pleasure to see you, Paul. Always a pleasure…’ Mikey called out with a need to have the last word. Mikey shook his head and looked at Gloria who was sitting opposite him. Her face was illuminated by the glow of the fire. She looked upset. She knew the group would rather be somewhere else; another country. She thought she could make a camping trip decent so they’d at least have fun but now - she felt guilty that everyone was having a thoroughly miserable time. ‘Don’t say it,’ Mikey said to her. Her eyes fixed to him. He knew she was about to say that they could all leave in the morning. That was the kind of selfless person she was. He also knew that, with Paul leaving, the trip would get better. ‘It’ll be fine,’ Mikey said to her. Gloria smiled.

‘So,’ Jackson tried to break the icy atmosphere for a second time, ‘anyone got another story?’

Lynn piped up, her eyes still transfixed by the dancing flames, ‘I kind of wanted to know how Robyn’s story ended.’

As the remaining foursome sat around the fire, they could only imagine how the story would have ended had Robyn been left to continue it. All of them were unaware that she would get to live it for real…

*

NOW

Blackness despite eyes being wide open.

Her breathing - fast and shallow - drowning out other possible noises. Robyn caught her breath and held it a moment hoping to hear something - or someone - which could give her some clue as to where she was. A pipe clanking somewhere overhead… Maybe even coming from the same pipe she was secured to. Her wrists cuffed together around the pipe overhead and her bare feet barely touching the cold floor. Her arm sockets ached from the unnatural position. A heavy metal clanking as a heating system slowly banged itself to life, at least - that’s what she presumed it was. An old building trying to warm itself up. Other than that and the sound of her own heart beating heavy in her chest, there was nothing. Robyn released her breath slowly, hoping to calm it enough so as not to hyperventilate; especially under the heat of the thick, black hood covering her head and causing her to sweat.

Robyn didn’t want to call out yet she knew - if there was a way out to be had - she’d have to. ’Hello?’ Her voice was meek and quiet with a quake in the tone. The clanking pipe filled the silence that followed her call. She tried again, ‘Hello?’ The clanking pipe… Except it wasn’t the heating system kicking in. It was the masked figure at the end of the corridor standing there and watching the trapped girl struggle.

Occasionally the stranger would hit the overhead pipe with another smaller pipe gripped in his gloved hand. The pipe with which he planned to bludgeon her to death. Under his own mask he was smiling menacingly. His immediate life presenting him with two options: let his presence be known through conversation or through a sudden violent swing of his pipe. Watching her, knowing who was under the hood, he couldn’t say which way his mind was going to sway.

‘Paul? Robyn called out again. The masked figure shifted uneasily on his feet. In Robyn’s head, it could only be Paul who had done this to her. She could imagine him standing nearby, watching and laughing at her fear and misery. A sick joke gone too far further mocking her earlier story recounted by the fire. ‘Paul, I know you’re there…’

The masked man hit the overhead pipe harder than before. The noise echoed through the empty hallway causing Robyn to flinch and for her heart to skip a beat. She struggled against the cuffs locking her in place but there was not even a hint of movement. She was there for as long as Paul wanted her. Hopefully, she thought, he’ll get bored with his joke sooner rather than later. Her arms were already going numb and her wrists sore - never mind the fact she just wanted to go home now. At least, after giving Paul a piece of her mind and hitting him. Idiot.

‘If you let me out of this now, we won’t mention it again or even talk about how you got me here,’ Robyn said, trying her best to sound calm. Even though she knew it was Paul, she still felt unnerved. He liked practical jokes, when they were a couple - small things like jumping out on her, but this had gone way too far. Especially as she had zero idea on how she actually had got here in the first place. Her first thought was that he’d somehow managed to spike the thermal flask she’d left in her tent but - had he done that… That was a whole new level for him. Or rather, a whole new low. And, if he had done that then not only did she not want him as a boyfriend but she didn’t want him in her life at all. A part of her was already contemplating reporting him to the police. A man who could take a joke - or point, or whatever the fuck this was supposed to be - that far, was a man who needed to be on some kind of watch list at the very least.

Robyn paused a moment. She was waiting for him to answer or walk over to her and remove the hood so she could finally see his face and - no doubt - the smug look on his face. Is this how you imagined the story ending? she could almost hear him asking it. From deep in her gut, she felt a bubble of anger start to form. Any luck, he’d release her before she started shouting at him. She knew he was more likely to leave her there for the night if she started yelling at him. A pathetic point to prove that, despite her raised tones, he was the one in control.

‘You got me,’ she said after a moment’s silence. ‘I’ll admit it, you got me.’

The masked figure hit the pipe against the overhead pipes for a third time. The reverberations ran down the line down to where Robyn was hanging and the sound - once again - caused her to flinch and for her heart to skip another beat.

The ringing of the steel pipes was the only sound disturbing the complete silence. A metallic singing like nails down a chalk-board.

‘What do you want me to say?’ Robyn asked when the pipes finally went silent.

The man’s hand tightened around the pipe he was clutching. He sighed heavily and slowly walked towards where Robyn was hanging. His footsteps echoing each time the heel of his shoe touched upon the hard floor. Robyn started struggling against the restraints binding her in place. A sudden - worrying - thought, What if this isn’t Paul? She quickly told herself not to be so stupid. If not Paul, then who? Especially going to the trouble of recreating her campfire story… It had to be Paul.

*

EARLIER

Paul was sitting on the passenger seat of his truck with his legs hanging out of the door. In his hand was a lit cigarette - something he’d managed to quit whilst dating Robyn as she hated it. Now she had left him though? Fuck it. No reason not to spark up. In fact, he’d had his first cigarette within an hour of her breaking it off. A petty way to try and show he was in charge, not her. Not that she was there to see him smoke that cigarette.

Despite saying he would be leaving first thing in the morning, he’d already loaded his tent and limited supplies into the back of the truck. Part of him knew it had been pointless coming but there was a little part of him which had hoped that he might have been able to get back together with her. A thought which had immediately flown out of his head when he first saw her and couldn’t help but to call her a name. He didn’t know why he had done it, truth be told. Perhaps false bravado? He didn’t even know why he had started to laugh at her story. Yes it sounded like a weak-ass plot of a shitty slasher but so had most of the stories. At least her story hadn’t centred around a camp-site like all of the others. Still, he couldn’t apologise. She hadn’t apologised to him for breaking his heart.

A twig snapped from behind the truck as something heavy stepped on it. The noise was loud enough to steal Paul’s attention from staring into the black abyss beyond the trees.

‘Made me jump,’ he said to Gloria as she stepped from the darkness.

‘Sorry.’

She approached him and stopped. She noticed his stuff in the back of the truck.

‘You’re leaving.’

‘Probably for the best.’ He smiled, ‘Think it’s fair to say it was a bad idea to come.’

Gloria smiled sympathetically. She couldn’t lie to him and say it hadn’t been a bad idea but - at the same time - she was glad he had. Even if it hadn’t gone as planned. The whole point of the trip was for the old group of friends to hang out and - had he stayed away - it wouldn’t have been the same.

‘Did you speak to Robyn?’ Gloria asked.

Robyn had been the real reason Gloria had left the warmth of the camp-fire. With Paul skulking off to his tent as he’d originally planned, it meant the coast was clear for her to return if she had wanted to.

‘No. I didn’t see the point. Figured I’d only upset her again.’ He took a drag of his cigarette. ‘You know I didn’t actually mean to upset her, right? Not quite sure what my brain was thinking…’

‘It shouldn’t be me that you say that to,’ Gloria said. She didn’t need to say it though. Paul already knew he’d need to say it to Robyn at some point, along with an apology. Even though she had never apologised for breaking his heart. Gloria glanced towards the stuff in the truck again and suggested, ‘Why don’t you stay tonight? Maybe talk to her in the morning when the moods are calmer?’

Paul shook his head. ‘Nah. I’m just getting in the way here. I’ll try and catch up with her at home.’ He laughed to himself. ‘If she answers my calls.’

Again, Gloria smiled sympathetically. She didn’t know the reason why Robyn had put an end to the relationship. It wasn’t her place to ask. If Robyn wanted to talk about it, she would. Besides, she knew what Paul could be like. They all did. Even so - it was never fun to be dumped, especially when you truly loved the other person and, despite his flaws, Paul did.

Paul glanced beyond the tree-line to where the tents were evenly spaced out. His eyes fixed on the tent Robyn was staying in. ‘Say goodbye for me?’

‘Okay. If you’re sure.’

He jumped down from the truck and walked around to the driver’s side.

‘Yeah, I’m sure.’ He climbed in and closed the door.

Gloria took a step back as the  engine roared into life.

She called through the closed window, ‘Drive safe.’

Paul gave her a smile and then started to reverse back down the track he’d driven up a few hours earlier. A wasted trip. As the truck headlights backed into the distance, Gloria turned towards the tents. She half-expected to see Robyn stumble from the darkness, coming to investigate the noise of the truck. There was nothing. Maybe she’s asleep already? She was complaining about being tired earlier. Gloria turned back towards the fire, taking her own advice. She’d talk to her in the morning. If she was asleep, she sure as hell wouldn’t thank Gloria for waking her. Gloria paused a moment and turned back to the darkness hiding the tents. Would she be asleep already?

‘Robyn?’ Gloria didn’t exactly whisper Robyn’s name but neither did she call it out at the top of her lungs either. The volume used would certainly be loud enough for Robyn to hear had she been awake, or had she wanted to hear. There was only the sound of a gentle breeze tickling the leaves overhead and the murmurs of the others huddled around the fire. Gloria shrugged. Must be asleep. She turned back to the fire and started to walk over unaware that whilst Robyn was currently “sleeping” - it wasn’t down to her body’s own choice in the matter.

*

NOW

Robyn squinted at the light as the hood was removed from her head. Slowly her blurred vision cleared so she could see her surroundings. She was hanging by metal handcuffs which had been hooked over a large pipe; the pipe Paul must have been hitting. She was in dusty looking hallway of what appeared to be an old warehouse - much like the warehouse owned by Paul’s father. And, standing in front of her, there was a hooded man clutching a small metal pipe in his right hand. The man was Paul’s height and Paul’s (medium) build. The only difference being the clothes that he wore. Could have gotten changed. Despite still suspecting Paul being the man under the hood, Robyn couldn’t help but still feel unnerved by where she was and what he was doing. Definitely a step too far.

The man spoke. His voice was changed by some kind of device beneath his hood giving the impression of a much deeper, more sinister voice which caught Robyn off-guard. ‘Tell me how your story ends.’

‘My story? What? The one round the camp-fire? The one you openly laughed at?’

There was silence.

‘Paul, just let me down from here. You’ve made your point, you frightened me. Very good.’

‘Tell me how your story ends,’ the hooded man said again.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Robyn restrained herself from shouting at him, mentally reminding herself that it would do no good: He’d only keep her there longer. She waited for him to answer but he said nothing. Instead, his hand tightened around the pipe as though he was contemplating using it on the pipes again. To stop him from swinging at the pipes, she asked again, ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Your story is the only one I don’t know the ending to,’ the distorted voice said. He continued, ‘Tell me how your story ends.’

‘If you hadn’t laughed at me, you would have heard it!’ Robyn said, venom in her voice.

The man responded by slamming the pipe again. Robyn turned her head away as though it would help with the level of noise but - at this range, and being stuck where she was - there was no getting away from it. The ringing lasted a couple of minutes. To Robyn, those minutes lasted a lifetime.

Near silence descended upon them once again.

‘Tell me how your story ends.’

‘Please stop hitting the pipe.’

The man teasingly tapped the larger pipe again. It wasn’t enough to make a din but rather enough to let Robyn know he had no intention of stopping until she gave him what he seemingly wanted: An ending to her story.

‘Surely you know how it ends?’ Robyn said. ‘The man was standing at the end of the hallway, pipe in hand, with his life presenting two immediate options. He knew who was under the hood and couldn’t say which way his mind was going to sway.’ She paused a moment. The man made no movement. ‘You’ve had a little longer standing there,’ she continued. ‘The man is the end of the story so - only you can answer what happens next.’ She hoped that - what happened next - would be him releasing and even most likely laughing at her. Paul admitting that this was all a sick joke and that the others were outside, waiting to burst in and also laugh at her expense.

‘You tell me how the story ends.’

‘I don’t know how the story ends!’ Robyn admitted. ‘I was making it up on the spot. Then you laughed at me and broke my concentration! And hanging here, it’s quite hard to try and play make-believe - especially with you dressed like that and using that voice box!’ She wriggled her body, desperate to get free from the cuffs although they were clearly not going to give anytime soon. ‘Please let me out of here… Why are you even doing this? Because I dumped you? Well - I’m sorry! I really am! I just felt as though we weren’t going anywhere! It was nothing personal… It was just… Look, can we do this over a drink? Please let me down now!’

The pipe clanged as it was hit again: A violent smack which silenced Robyn’s sudden hysterics. Despite wanting to stay calm, Robyn started to cry.

‘Tell me how the story ends.’

*

EARLIER

‘Did he say anything to you?’ Mikey asked Gloria as she returned to the fire. They’d all seen Paul leave and were all surprised, although none of them were sad to see the back of him. Sure he had the capacity to be an idiot but tonight he had taken it to another level and while he was behaving like that, they’d rather he wasn’t there. It was bad enough that they were stuck out in the wilderness camping, they didn’t need him creating an unpleasant atmosphere too.

‘Not really,’ Gloria said. What had been said was between her and Paul and - when she passed his message on - Robyn in the morning. The others had no reason to know. Gloria noticed the empty bottles of beer next to where he had been sitting by the fire. ‘Do you think he will be okay to drive? It didn’t even dawn on me…’

‘Pretty sure he hasn’t had that much.’

‘Well I’m surprised he went, I’ll be honest.’ Jackson said, ‘I thought they’d be fucking by morning personally.’

Lynn looked at him. ‘Really?’ Being relatively new to the group she didn’t realise that - despite the latest break-up - Paul and Robyn had a history of breaking up and getting back together again. Admittedly this time Robyn was adamant it was over but - still - it wasn’t anything none of them had heard before at some point or other.

‘Yeah, it’s kind of their thing,’ Mikey said - his arm still wrapped around Lynn as though he was scared she was going to suddenly get up and run off.

‘That’s funny,’ Lynn said with a faint smile.

‘It was funny the first couple of times,’ Mikey said.

‘He probably hasn’t gone anywhere anyway. I’ve got a fiver that says he is parked up down the road, ready to make a dramatic comeback when he thinks enough time has passed for people to start missing him.’ Jackson rolled his eyes as he could picture the whole scenario play out in his head. Paul would leave under a dark cloud and then the others would start to miss him, maybe even feel guilty that he’d left in the first place. Then, when he came back, they’d be pleased to see him and they would be the ones apologising to him as though they were in the wrong. They might have gotten older over the years but mentally - sometimes it felt as though they were still back at school. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so obvious and pathetic.

‘So you think they will get back together?’ Lynn asked, more curious about this than anything else that had been spoke of that night.

Mikey laughed. ‘Probably.’

‘Yeah and then, one day, she’ll leave him again and he’ll just snap and beat her to death!’ Jackson said - a smile stretching from ear to ear. The group turned and looked at him, surprised at how dark he had suddenly taken that. ‘I mean, I’m not saying that would be a good thing obviously…’ What worried the group more was not where Jackson’s imagination had taken things but that they could see that happening one day. They’d all be in their homes, news on the television, and there’d be a story of a pretty young blonde beaten to death by her jealous lover.

‘Well,’ Mikey continued, just to swallow the silence, ‘there’s a cheerful thought and on that note, we might hit the sack.’ He turned to Lynn. ‘Ready to turn in?’

She smiled. ‘If you want.’

‘Oh good,’ Jackson said sarcastically, ‘the stories weren’t enough to keep us up all night but the moans from your tent might be…’

Quick as a flash, Lynn chipped in, ‘I doubt it.’

All but Mikey laughed, he just looked at her with a hurt look on his face.

‘I like her!’ Gloria said. ‘She’s a keeper!’

A log on the roaring fire crackled and spat an amber spark up into the air as Mikey helped Lynn to her feet.

‘I’m not so sure about that anymore,’ Mikey said to Gloria. ‘I mean things were going well…’

‘Oh shut up and take me to bed,’ Lynn said playfully. As Mikey escorted her away she turned back to Gloria and Jackson and said, ‘I’ll try and keep my laughter to a minimum so as not to disturb you!’

‘Okay,’ Mikey said as the pair were swallowed into the darkness, ‘that’s another black mark against your name.’

‘Ooh, are you going to spank me?’ Lynn’s voice trailed off.

Jackson turned to Gloria with a smile on his face.

‘What?’ Gloria asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Why are you looking at me weird?’

‘I just wondered if tonight was going to be the night we finally got it on. I mean we’re both single, we’ve both known each other for years, we both get on… And - away from this fire - it’s going to be cold tonight. Reckon we could keep each other warm.’

Gloria raised an eyebrow. ‘All these years and when you finally try and crack onto me, that is the line you come out with?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m going to my tent. I’ll be pulling the zipper shut tight behind me.’ She followed in Lynn and Mikey’s footsteps towards the tents. ‘Don’t forget to douse the fire,’ she called back.

Jackson looked at the flames and sighed. Should have gone to Amsterdam. He suddenly turned and called to Gloria, ‘Maybe I’m the secret psychopath and you spurning me is the straw that breaks the camel’s back? Maybe tonight is the night I’ll be on a murdering spree?’

Gloria called back from the blackness, ‘So what are you - a camel or a psychopath?’

Jackson stumbled over his words, unsure on how to answer.

‘Fuck sake,’ he muttered to himself, annoyed that he didn’t have a comeback at the ready. He looked down at the fire and started to kick dirt over it, hoping that it would lessen the flames. He never saw the branch come as it swung towards his head out of the darkness.

*

NOW

The small piece of pipe bounced off the larger overhead pipe with a loud metallic clang which echoed throughout the hallway. Again, Robyn tried her best to turn away from the noise but - still - there was nowhere to go. As the pipe sung, so did Robyn scream. Through her scream and the pipe’s ringing, the distorted voice shouted, ‘Tell me how the story ends!’

Robyn closed her eyes and tried to remember how the story started. Despite living it herself now, it wasn’t clear to her. Her mind was jumbled with various thoughts - the whole situation made more unnerving by the fact she couldn’t see Paul’s face nor recognise his voice through the changer he was using. Through the clouded thoughts she remembered her other friends. However she got here, they’d know she was missing and they’d come looking for her. That is, if they weren’t a part of the prank too. They couldn’t be, they’d have put a stop to this the moment he had told them what he was doing. Surely…

The masked figure raised the pipe in the air again.

‘Wait!’ Robyn called out.

The man paused a moment, lowering his arm back down to his side. In all of the other stories told around the fire, the people had suffered a grisly fate. Jackson’s story, for example, the man was playfully pushed by his partner as they larked around near the fire. He stumbled on a branch and fell face first into the fire. The flames engulfed his whole head and greedily licked away the flesh, toasting his eyeballs as easily as marshmallows. First they went gooey and then they started to blacken. All the time the man screaming, thrashing around the place as his partner tried frantically to pull him from the danger. By the time she managed to pull him free though - he was unrecognisable as the man she had once loved. The other stories were equally as messy. Knowing in which direction her own story was heading, Robyn decided to try a different ending to the one initially planned.

‘So the masked man was just standing there,’ she said nervously, ‘unsure as to what his next move was going to be. The reason for his uncertainty was because he loved the woman. Unable to live without her, he’d brought her to this place to kill both her and then himself. A hope that they could get together again on the other side. Live the rest of eternity, as a couple. Seeing her now though, hanging defenceless - he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. He loved her. How do you hurt someone that you love? He walked over to where she was hanging and pulled the hood from her head. She screamed when she saw him. His own face covered, he looked sinister standing there - surroundings unknown. Her screaming only quietened when he pulled his own hood off to reveal it was her ex-boyfriend. A man whom she’d dumped a few weeks prior. Tears were streaming down his face and he asked her how she could leave him like that…’ Robyn froze as something caught her eye over the man’s shoulder.

*

EARLIER

‘Come on, baby, don’t leave me…’ Mikey pulled Lynn away from the tent’s opening as she went to climb out. The smell of something burning had filled the air with a hideous odour which she had insisted upon going to investigate, much to Mikey’s frustration. He’d spent the last five minutes talking her out of her clothes and now she was starting to put them back on again so she could see what the others were trying to extinguish the fire with. Whatever it was - it wasn’t healthy.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Lynn said as she playfully slapped his hand away.

‘You can’t leave me like this!’ Mikey pointed down to the impressive erection poking from the front of his boxer shorts. He reached for Lynn again and - with more success this time - pulled her away from the tent’s opening. She fell on top of him and he held her close. As she opened her mouth to say something like it won’t take long, he planted a kiss on her lips. A lingering peck at first before becoming more passionate. In a swift move, he rolled her onto her side first and then her back before rolling on top of her with his erection pressing against her, begging for attention. The smell of burning hair and cooked meat was soon forgotten as they continued to kiss. As Mikey’s hand fumbled its way down the front of her panties, so did her hand reach for his hard-on.

‘I’ve been dying for this all night,’ Mikey said with a grin.

‘I could tell you were horny from the story you told,’ Lynn said with a giggle. In her defence, the story had been on the somewhat perverse side of things. A couple went camping only for them to retire to the tent for an “early night”. With the woman getting changed in the tent, the man made his excuses to go and fetch something. By the time he returned, he was wearing a leather hood. The girl laughed thinking he was just being kinky. It was something new to try and she was always up for something different. He didn’t even take his tatty Guns N. Roses tee-shirt off to fuck her. It was just a quick hard fuck until he ejaculated inside her. Only then she did go to pull the mask off. Only then did she realise it wasn’t her lover at all. It was a stranger with blood splattered on his face and dressed in her boyfriend’s clothes. By the time she went to scream, his hands were already around her throat - squeezing the life from her. Outside the tent, her lover’s now-naked body was still twitching. The front of the skull caved in with a heavy rock that lay by his body.

’Just wish it was somewhere a little more comfortable…’ Mikey continued.

Lynn laughed, still stroking his cock with an expert hand. She said, ‘You’re not the one with a rock digging into their back.’

Mikey smiled. ‘Something hard in your back and something hard in your front… It’s not your lucky day is it?’

‘Wait…’ Lynn stopped him.

‘What?’

‘Get the camera.’

‘Oh?’

She smiled at him. He smiled back and nodded to the corner of the tent. The little red light was flashing. He was already recording. Lynn’s smile broadened.

Mikey moved away from Lynn temporarily, reaching over to pull the tent’s zipper down. While closing the tent’s opening didn’t stop the stink seeping in - it did at least hide the true horror of what was cooking.

Just as the victim in Jackson’s story had died face-down in the camp-side fire, so had Jackson. It wouldn’t be obvious to whoever found the body but Jackson was luckier than his character. At least the initial blow to his skull had robbed him of his consciousness before the flames had robbed him of first his looks and - soon after - his life. From the line of tents hidden in the darkness beyond the nearby trees, the sounds of hard fucking accompanied the sizzled sounds of flesh roasting and cracking on the open fire.

*

NOW

Distracted by what she’d seen, Robyn tried to recall where she’d gotten to in the retelling of her story. ‘Sorry… Erm… The man talks to her and explains that he can’t live without her… Despite what he has done to her, she admits that she still has feelings for him and…’ She’s cut off by the distorted sound of laughter from beneath the man’s mask. If there wasn’t already any doubt in her mind, she knew now by the way he laughed that it wasn’t Paul standing in front of her. She continued, ‘The man undoes her cuffs and she drops to the floor. ‘What’s funny?’ she asked.

‘Tell me how your story really ends.’

Robyn fell silent. It was clear that a happy ending wasn’t what was sought after. She glanced at the pipe in his hand. His grip tightening around it as though he was ready to swing once again. This time she feared it wouldn’t be the pipe that was being hit - not that she understood why. With her heart beating hard, she asked, ‘Why, Mikey?’ She glanced over his shoulder again. Slowly - the hooded man followed her gaze. She’d clearly seen the recording light on the GoPro camera, hidden on a shelf towards the other end of the hallway. He shrugged. It didn’t matter. He’d still get the footage he needed.

Mikey removed his hood and dropped it to the floor.

‘Why?’ Robyn asked again. Of all the people to pull a stunt like this, she didn’t expect it to be him. The eldest of the group, he was supposed to be the more mature of them all. So why?

‘Heard of The Game?’ he asked as he went to fetch the recording camera.

*

EARLIER

‘Want to play a game?’ Mikey asked as he thrust in. Lynn gasped as his cock stretched her pussy wider. ‘Well?’ he asked, holding his dick still - deep inside her for a moment. She looked at him, lust in her eyes.

‘What?’ she asked.

He smiled and turned his head back to the camera. The little red light still recording. He turned back to her and - his cock still deep inside - he put his hands around her throat. He paused a moment, waiting for her to make a comment. She smiled.

‘Do it,’ she pleaded.

Mikey started to apply pressure as he resumed fucking her. To begin with, Lynn enjoyed the sensation of having the air supply cut off as his hard dick slid in and out of her wet pussy. A feeling of enjoying the forbidden. When she could hold her breath no longer, she tapped his hand hoping he’d release the pressure, allowing some air into her starved lungs. He didn’t. He pressed harder and the feeling of pleasure Lynn felt turned to one of panic. She started to claw at his hands, trying desperately hard to free herself but to no avail. Mikey - still fucking - started to laugh as her face became flushed by the trapped blood.

‘Remember my story? The man’s mask slipped and the woman suddenly realised the monster beneath?’ Still with his hands crushing the life from her, he ejaculated loudly inside her snatch. ‘Consider everything up until this point as my mask.’ He smiled breathlessly. ‘This is who I am and this is how you die…’ He whispered in her ear as the life slipped away. ‘Smile to the camera.’ He pulled his hips back and let his spent cock slip from her cunt. It was followed by a trickle of salty semen which pooled on top of the sleeping bag they’d fucked up. Without a word, he reached for the camera and stopped the recording. With any luck, she’d got her recording too. With Paul having made his midnight strop off into the distance - that just left one to kill. Hopefully it would be enough to win The Game.

End of Part One

INTERVAL

No One Wins The Game

It was a show watched around the world. While it wasn’t made by the government, the powers that be knew about it and let it go on due to the revenue it brought in and the money that was donated to the party in power. Turning a blind eye made good business sense when the profits were good and their “knowledge” was kept from the public. It wasn’t the only shady deal the government was involved in and it wouldn’t be the last - a situation made more “sure of” with the death of those who had the ability to ruin it for them. Such as the chosen contestants of “The Game”. Whilst they may have made it through the various stages, right through to the end with a promise of prizes and freedom - rarely were there any such rewards. Why reward them and let them go when they could try and expose the truth of the government’s involvement? Easier just to kill them once the cameras stopped rolling. Easier to silence them. This was the government’s one stipulation: No survivors who might try and expose the show or people helping to make it work. One such contestant was Vicki, the “star” of 2017’s “The Game”.

Vicki had done all that was asked of her, no matter how unpleasant and had gotten out of the complex - through to the stage in front of the live studio audience. The audience didn’t care who was and wasn’t involved in “The Game”. They just cared about the gore. The more gore, the higher the ratings. Now, standing in front of the audience, with the presenter - Vicki had a choice to make. Her prize being to walk away with her mum and dad, or her husband. Whoever wasn’t chosen, would plunge to their death below from the clear capsules that trapped them above the spikes built into the stage. Vicki had tried to plead with the host of the show. She begged for him not to make her choose and - kindly - he said she didn’t need to. For, if she didn’t wish to make the choice, they’d simply kill all three and she could walk away with nothing. Choose one of the capsules - one with her parents or one with her husband - or lose them all.

Unable to say her answer, the host let her point to the one she chose without having to say the words. She did just that and was commended for her choice. The capsule not chosen opened and the contents dropped to the spikes below. The cameras stopped rolling as ticker-tape burst from mini-guns around the stage and the host congratulated Vicki on being a survivor of The Game. As the chosen capsule slowly descended from the ceiling on a thick metal wire - arrangements were already being made out back for the termination of Vicki and her prize, just as soon as the audience had gone home.

But first… A competition for the people at home. Something to get them interested into tuning in again and even getting more involved. Something to really set the cat amongst the pigeons. A game people could play at home with their friends whilst “The Game” had a little break as the producers hunted for the following year’s contestant, or contestants. A little something the producers could air during the break in order to keep people both talking and tuning in… One of the competition’s terms and conditions reminding the participants of The Game’s tagline: More Gore, More Ratings.

PART TWO

Revelations

*

EARLIER

Mikey climbed from his tent, making final adjustments to the clothes he’d just put on. Over the top of his thick jumper was a harness which housed the GoPro he’d been carrying around since the moment they had first arrived. He pulled the tent’s zip down, sealing Lynn’s body inside, and stretched his arms out sideways. As he arched his back, his spine clicked.

‘Did you get the footage?’

Gloria’s voice startled Mikey even though he knew she would have been floating around close-by, keen to know if it had been done yet. Mikey turned to her. She was standing close to the tree-line, half-hidden by the darkness.

‘No need to ask if you got your footage,’ he said.

Beyond the tree-line the fire was slowly dying thanks to the bulk of Jackson’s charred weight suffocating it.

‘That absolutely stinks by the way.’

‘Yes, well, I got good footage… Splice it with him telling his story about the playful couple which saw the man fall into the fire and it becomes great footage.’ Gloria walked from the tree-line towards Mikey. As she approached, she held out her own GoPro camera for Mikey to see. Unlike Mikey’s camera, the group had been unaware of Gloria’s recording device. Mikey took the camera from her and started to navigate the touch-screen menu through to the option which allowed playback, curious to see what she’d recorded. If it was as good as she was saying then they really did have a good shot at this, especially knowing the footage he’d just filmed and the fact they still had one more body to deal with.

The footage started and Mikey couldn’t help but smile.

*

NOW

Robyn baulked at the footage shown. As the camera moved closer to the toasting body, she turned away - not wanting to see anymore.

‘She did well, didn’t she?’ Mikey turned the camera around so that he could carry on watching it again. He’d lost count the number of times he’d watched the footage and yet it never grew old.

‘Gloria wouldn’t have done this…’

‘And yet, earlier, you probably would have said the same about me. Am I right?’

Robyn didn’t say anything. The truth was: She probably would have said the same about Mikey; a man she’d known for all these years. For him to suddenly turn and do all of this…

‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s all a game,’ he said as though it was nothing unusual. ‘Winner gets a cool million and the chance to help design the games for the next season…’

‘And a life in prison…’

Mikey smiled. ‘One of the first things mentioned in the list of prizes: Immunity from anything you did whilst making your tapes. Or, as the producers called it at the end of the last show, your audition piece.’

‘Why are you doing this? We were friends.’

*

EARLIER

Gloria looked stunned as the knife plunged into her chest, piercing her heart. It had all happened so fast. Mikey had pulled it from his back pocket and thrust it forward without prior warning. With his camera recording everything, she took a step back and looked down to the see the blade still sticking out of her. The knowledge that she was most likely going to die made worse by the fact it would happen sooner if she pulled the blade free. Her legs trembling and sweat forming on her brow, she looked at Mikey with both horror and fear in her eyes. He was smiling.

Mikey could see it in her expression that - amongst other things - she was confused as to why he had done this. He figured the least he owed her was an explanation. ‘I mean,’ he said, ‘thank you for your help but - yeah - half a million just don’t sound as good as a whole million, you know?’ He continued, ‘And sharing the title screen of the next season… My name next to your name… Again, not quite as impressive, is it?’

Getting weaker, Gloria lowered herself to her knees and started to cry. Mikey moved in closer with the camera, not wishing to miss any of the emotion. A bonus death for his audition piece. His little movie to convince the producers that he would fit in well with their team in devising new rooms for contestants to survive in.

‘You probably hate me. I get it. Before you go though, I want you to know that I am one hundred percent fine with that. I mean, let’s be honest, we were never the closest in the group, were we? Had it not been for the others - we probably wouldn’t have hung around as much, am I right?’

Gloria laid down on her side as she continued to get weaker.

‘Here, let me help you.’

Mikey leaned down to her and gripped the handle. With a short tug, he pulled the blade free, speeding up the blood loss in the process. It wouldn’t be long before she was gone and then he could get Robyn ready. He stopped the camera from recording and turned back to Robyn’s tent. This one was going to be harder for sure thanks to the fact she had pulled the story away from a woodland theme. She always had to be different and do things her own way.

‘Why?’ he muttered.

*

NOW

‘Why?’ Mikey repeated Robyn’s question. ‘If you paid attention to anyone but yourself you would have realised ages ago that I’ve not been happy for as long as I can remember. Life is shit. And, you know, it was made worse by getting fired. Admittedly I didn’t tell any of you that though because I was embarrassed by that… Actually this will make you laugh - Lynn… her dad is the one who fired me. That’s why I first started dating her. To piss him off. Don’t get me wrong, I did like her and she had no idea her dad fired me but… yeah… I thought that was a good move. Further kick in his teeth that I killed her too.’ Mikey laughed. ‘Hey, I fucked your daughter and then I killed her. How’s your day going?’ He shook his head. ‘Funny thing - she’d probably still be alive if I still had a job. I mean, when I was working I always used to get an early night. Moment I was sacked, ended up drinking all damned night. That’s when I stumbled across The Game on the net. Link from a friend if memory serves correctly but - fuck knows - I was drunk most of the time and can’t really remember. I do remember the competition they offered though… They asked us to go out and murder people in inventive ways. They wanted us to film it all. The best tape sent in would secure the filmmaker a cool million and the opportunity to work with the makers on the next season of the show. So - money to live off and a job. Yeah so I had to kill my friends in order to be eligible. So what? It’s not like we really hang out anymore, is it? Each one doing their own things and forgetting what it was like to be true friends… Big deal. Fuck it. Why the fuck not? With a million pounds in the bank, I can buy new friends.’

‘You’re insane. Something has happened and driven you around the bend…’

‘No. I’m desperate. There is a big difference. And you - the others - you’re all just collateral damage. Well, not Gloria. She had to go because she was a part of all this too and I didn’t want to share but… You know what though, I’m not even sorry. Like I said, we don’t really hang out anymore. We hardly see each other apart from these rare little trips and… Well… I’m going to be rich. I’ll have money, I’ll have immunity, I’ll have a job I enjoy…’

‘And if you don’t win?’

‘Did you want to see the rest of the footage?’ Mikey scoffed, ‘There is no way I won’t win.’

‘What happened to you?’ Robyn couldn’t understand the change in his character. It was one thing to be annoyed at the world, disappointed - even - that you weren’t where you pictured yourself to be, but to kill your friends in the hope of winning a fucked-up prize offered by an even more fucked-up gameshow? Something, surely, must have happened to him. Drugs, maybe?

‘I saw a light at the end of the tunnel,’ he said with a smile. ‘Now… We have some filming to do and I guess, if you’re worried about me winning, we should make it really good…’away from where Robyn was hanging and set the camera down on the floor. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet which he placed behind the camera. Using the wallet as a makeshift prop, he angled the small camera to get a better view of Robyn and her surroundings. He paused a moment and slowly turned to her with a grin on his face.

‘Do you recognise the hallway?’ he asked.

Robyn looked around. A blank expression on her face.

‘Weird. I could have sworn he said he fucked you down here during a lunch-break…’

Mikey didn’t need to explain who he was talking about and - suddenly - Robyn knew exactly where she was but not because she had been fucked down here, as Mikey suggested. It was Paul’s warehouse. Or rather, it belonged to Paul’s dad. Now retired, he had handed the business down to his son to look after with the reassurance he would always be there if needed. If suddenly dawned on Robyn that - if Mikey didn’t win - he was going to do all he could to try and pin everything on Paul. The worrying thing was, it wouldn’t be that hard to at least get suspicious eyes to fall upon him given his troubled teenage years which had seen him in therapy for counselling. There were forced sessions after he’d shown an aggressive streak towards a teacher and fellow pupil. Whilst he had mellowed as he got into his late teens and early twenties - everyone knew that, if pushed, there was still a temper simmering beneath the surface.

Robyn didn’t say anything. As far as she could see there was nothing that she could say to make this “okay”. Had she been the first person killed then, maybe she would have been able to try and talk him out of it? Make him see sense. That fact he’d already killed people though - too late now. There was no turning back and she couldn’t even try and say she would help him, given how he had killed Gloria because he didn’t wish to share the rewards.

But that didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.

*

EARLIER

Mikey opened Robyn’s tent. She was lying on top of her sleeping bag, her eyes shut  and yet twitching behind the lids as she dreamed a drug-induced dream. The spiked bottle of water lying next to her with the lid off. Gloria had given it to her when Robyn complained she’d left her bottled water at home. She’d said that it was the best thing to stop a hangover the following day: Down a bottle of water before you go to sleep. Just as she’d resigned herself to having to wake with a hangover, Gloria handed her a near-full bottle. A helpful friend, or so Robyn thought at the time. Little did she know…

Mikey looked at the unconscious girl and cursed under his breath. By taking her story away from the camp-fire setting, or even the woodlands, she’d made it much harder to include her in his video compilation. The whole idea behind the video being that you see the stories told around the fire and then see the storytellers die in the same method. With just Lynn and Jackson’s story allowing a death similar to the story - the concept behind the video was in danger of being lost. Especially as Gloria’s bonus death didn’t fit said concept. If he killed Robyn out of pattern too - he may as well just forget the whole damned idea and simply submit the videos of just the deaths. But in doing that, it wouldn’t help him stand out from the crowd. By having the victims foresee their own death - it had the potential to be a lot more original than people just getting killed. And Mikey knew the competition would be stiff for this one.

Still looking at Robyn, he shook his head. She hadn’t made it easy. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face as it dawned on him that he had the perfect place to take her in order to make her “story” come true.

He heard Paul’s voice in his head, Yeah - no one really goes down in the basement as there’s no need. Wasted space. Perfect place to fuck her during my lunch-break…

Robyn might not have made it easy, changing the location of her story to somewhere different, but she hadn’t made it impossible.

Mikey reached into the tent and grabbed her by her ankles. Using all of his strength he pulled her from the tent. The trick will be to get her all set up before she wakes…

*

NOW

Mikey took a step towards Robyn, the pipe still clutched menacingly in his hand. In response she started to struggle against the handcuffs that kept her locked in place. All the time, she was aware of the little red light recording her from down on the floor.

‘It was lucky I had the cuffs,’ Mikey said. ‘Coincidence more than anything else, would you believe? See Lynn is… Sorry… Lynn was a bit of a dirty bitch. She liked it rough, know what I mean? Yeah… Well… She had kept those in her handbag from… You know what - doesn’t really matter. Bitch is dead now and soon - so will you be.’

‘Please don’t do this…’

‘Ssh. Don’t even bother. This is happening. Before it does though, I’m curious as to whether you have any last words for the people watching.’ He turned back to the camera and then back to Robyn.

‘Fuck you,’ she spat towards the camera.

Mikey laughed. ‘Short and to the point,’ he said. ‘I like it.’

He changed his stance, ready to swing the pipe. Robyn seized the opportunity to kick forward with both feet, swinging her whole body on the weight of the overhead pipe. It was a move which caught Mikey off-guard and sent him stumbling back.

‘Fuck you!’ she screamed again, swinging herself forward and kicking him for a second time before he had a chance to readdress his balance. This time he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor, his head hitting the wall hard. The sound of the heavy crack of skull against concrete picked up by the camera’s small but powerful microphone.

Robyn stopped herself from swinging back and forth by dragging her tip-toes across the floor. Only when she stopped did she feel the pain in her wrists from where the metal cuffs had dug in. She screamed out as the stinging intensified yet couldn’t take her eyes from Mikey - half-worried that he was about to get up and continue with his plan.

Blood trickled down from a cut on Mikey’s head that was obscured by his black hair. His eyes were fixed forward, unblinking and unseeing. He wasn’t getting up but - neither was he about to undo the cuffs which kept Robyn trapped.

She screamed again.

End of Part Two

INTERVAL

A Long Weekend

‘If you want, I’ll refund your contribution to the campsite next month,’ Robyn said. She thought it was a kind gesture even though he hadn’t paid a lot of money. None of them had. That was half the reason they chose the site in the first place: A reasonable price that they could all easily afford. Even so, the look on Paul’s face wasn’t the one she had been expecting. He was just looking at her blankly with tears in his eyes although they had been there from the previous conversation. The conversation in which she had told him that she didn’t love him anymore.

‘You having a fucking laugh?’

‘I was just trying to be nice.’

‘By basically saying I’m not welcome on the trip anymore?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Might as well have.’

‘I just thought you might not want to come now…’

‘Because you dumped me?’ They’re my friends too. What - I can’t hang out with them anymore because you have decided - again - that you don’t want to be with me?’

‘I didn’t say that…’

‘I’m sorry but I’m going. If you’re uncomfortable with that then I’m more than happy to pay you your deposit back…’ He sneered at her.

‘Fuck you. I was just trying to be nice.’

‘Well try and be nice when I show up at the camp-site then. It’s a long weekend, what with the Bank Holiday, and I plan to enjoy it. Nothing else to do with the warehouse being shut down.’

‘If you want to come, come. It’s fine! I don’t care if you’re there or not. I was just trying to be nice.’

‘You rip my heart out first and then you try and be nice - well, thanks.’

Robyn stood up. ‘Maybe I should just go.’

‘Yeah, maybe you should. But…’ He stopped her as she started towards the door. ‘Before you do - seriously… Thank you for stopping by. You made my evening.’ Robyn pulled herself free from his grip and turned back to the door. ‘Just so I know though, is it permanent this time or are you going to get drunk again later and beg for me to come back?’

Robyn didn’t stop. She carried on out the door. She knew there was little point in stopping to talk to him whilst he was in one of these moods. First he’d be sad, then sarcastic, then annoyed and - before she knew it - he’d be shouting and punching the walls like an out-of-control child having a temper tantrum.

‘I’m fucking done this time!’ he shouted as the front door to his flat slammed shut. ‘And I can’t fucking wait to see you when we go camping! Who knows, maybe we could share a fucking tent?’ Beyond the door, he heard her car door slam too. A second later, an engine started up. Even though he knew she couldn’t hear him, he called out, ‘You selfish fucking bitch!’ With that, as way of venting his hurt and anger, he slammed his fist into the wall. He was better off without her, he tried to keep telling himself.

*

Paul pulled his truck to the side of the road the moment he drove onto the main road. He was feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet. He didn’t know why he kept trying to upset her. He wanted her back and he knew that wasn’t the way to go about it. And, yet, he just couldn’t stop himself. Neither could he turn the truck back round and go and apologise like he should have. At no point did she ever say sorry to him, so why should he say sorry to her?

‘Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!’ With each word shouted - each progressively louder than the last - he punched the steering wheel with a clenched fist. He stopped and looked in the rear-view mirror. Would it be stupid just to turn back now? ‘Fuck it,’ he said, facing forward again. With two hands on the wheel, he pulled away from the side of the road; heading away from the site. If he went back, he knew she’d still be mad and - with that in mind - she’d still be shouting at him. She wouldn’t hear a word he’d say. Yet, if he went home and sent her a text, he’d stand more of a chance in getting through to her.

He hoped.

*

Saturday morning and she’d still not replied to his message. Paul set the phone back down on the bedside cabinet where it had been charging all night. He’d had a sinking feeling in his heart but was unsure as to whether he was being ignored or whether she had no service out there in the woods. Both were possible scenarios but only one caused him to feel sick. He guessed that - by Tuesday morning - he would know for definite. By then she would have left the camp-site and gone to somewhere with signal again. If she hadn’t replied by Tuesday, it meant she was ignoring him.

Saturday morning. Tuesday felt so long away.

Paul slumped back in his bed and pulled the duvet over his head. Maybe he could just sleep the weekend away and magically wake up on the Tuesday. That would be nice. Either that or find something else to distract himself with so his thoughts would be elsewhere and not on the woman he so desperately loved. After closing his eyes for a minute and realising that sleep would be an impossibility, he flung the duvet off and jumped from his bed to fetch his laptop from the other side of the room. With it in hand, he retired back to his bed. Whenever you need a distraction - you can’t go wrong with the Internet. YouTube was one of the best time wasters available…

PART THREE

End of Days

*

NOW

Not for the first time, Robyn started to retch. A need to vomit thanks to the hunger and thirst she was feeling. The stink of the rotting body a few feet away not helping the situation either. With no food in her system though, there was nothing there to throw up. When the retching stopped, she closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long she had been hanging there now. All she knew was that she was getting weaker by the minute and that she couldn’t feel her arms anymore - other than a soreness in the wrists thanks to the metal of the cuffs digging in.

The red light on the camera had long since gone out, not that Robyn could remember when exactly. Hanging there, she had little to do but try and make sense of what had brought her here in the first place. Mikey was her friend. Gloria was her friend and - yet - she had been a part of it too. Were money and a disdain for life really enough to drive them to murder their friends? It was a question which would never receive an answer and yet the answer was clear to all those who’d lay witness to what had happened: Of course it was enough to drive them to murder. There was no other reason for them to do it? Another worrying thought, albeit fleeting given her own situation: How many more people were out there doing this too? If it really was a competition - and not just a sick fantasy in Mikey’s ill head… How many other people could be swayed from the straight and narrow and led down this dark and dangerous path?

Robyn’s thoughts were all over the place and the longer she hung there, the more disjointed they became as fatigue set in. One minute she was thinking of her situation, trying to figure out how it had come to be and then - the next - she was thinking about her family. Her mum, her dad, her sister… All those who really mattered to her and all those she feared she’d never see again. No tears though. Her subconscious wouldn’t let her waste the liquid.

Only occasionally did her body let her drift into a state of half-sleep. Not quite awake and yet not quite sleeping either despite her brain being desperate for a proper rest. As a result, her vision was blurred and she felt dizzy. Each movement made making her want to throw up and yet being unable to.

Thoughts of Paul. They flashed in occasionally too. The primary one was of him coming to work and finding Mikey’s car parked outside. Maybe finding a broken door, or smashed window - depending on how Mikey had gained access to the property - and then, on further exploration, finding her hanging there - cold and dead. Still no tears. Her body still wouldn’t let her waste the liquid. She imagined Paul screaming and running over to where she hung, maybe trying to hook her off the pipe even though it was an impossibility due to the cuffs. Maybe he’d even blame himself. Had he not left her, had he not stormed off after acting like an idiot - maybe he would have been able to save her and stop this from happening? She pictured him apologising to her parents at the funeral. Maybe her mother slapping him in the face, blaming him too as her father dragged her away from him as he stood there, holding his cheek, with tears streaming down his face.

Then of course there were the thoughts of her sister standing by her graveside. Six years younger than Robyn, she’d feel lost without her older sister looking out for her. She’ll always be up there, looking down at you just didn’t have the same impact as knowing your sister was just a phone-call away.

With the thoughts racing in her mind once more, Robyn tried again to call out for help. She had no idea what the day was and no idea if anyone would hear but she knew it was better than hanging there in silence. The words didn’t come out though. Her voice was hoarse and her throat dry.

Another thought popped into her mind, This is it. This is how you’re going to die. It was a thought she tried to shake from her mind as she knew it wouldn’t help her situation. Besides, if she was going to slip out of consciousness and never wake again - she didn’t want her last thought to be one of death. She wanted it to be of something light. Something which filled her heart with joy and happiness. Her family.

Paul.

Paul?

Her mind raced with the good times they’d shared over the years of knowing one another. Despite there being bad times too, none of them seemed to pop into her consciousness. Instead there were just moving images of them larking around on various dates, smiling, laughing and even making love. A quick montage of what appeared to be the perfect couple despite Robyn knowing the truth on that at least. She had loved him but they were far from the perfect couple… The little voice in her mind spoke up from within the montage pointing out that she didn’t used to love him. Rather, she still did.

Mumbled words spilled from her mouth despite there being no one there to hear them. If anything her brain was making her say the words out loud so that she stood more chance of believing them. Either that or it just wanted to kill the silence. ‘Be here soon… He’ll be here soon and you can tell him how you feel… Tell him you were stupid and that you made a mistake.’ Again. She had made a mistake again having dumped him before too, only to just get back together again. Their thing, the others used to say - something she was fully aware of.

She wanted desperately to cry but still her body wouldn’t let her. She wanted to cry as the missed opportunities in life, she wanted to weep for her family who she feared would never get to talk to her again, she wanted to sob for Paul… She wanted to cry in fear… Yet still her body betrayed her.

Wait.

A noise.

Despite her tired head hanging with her neck muscles stretched uncomfortably at the back causing it to ache, Robyn tried her best to look up in the hope of seeing someone standing there who’d be able to help.

‘Hello?’ It was meant to be a shout but the words barely whispered from her strained throat. It didn’t matter though. He’d already heard her.

*

EARLIER

Paul checked his phone messages the moment his alarm went off and still there was nothing from Robyn. The previous night he had gone to bed making excuses for her but now there were none to be made. Last night she could have got home with a dead battery on her phone, maybe leaving it on all weekend despite the lack of signal. If that was the case though, she would have charged it overnight and seen the message this morning when she got up for work. Something, he knew, she would have done an hour before he had his alarm set for. His one burning question since Saturday had finally been answered. She was ignoring him. Without even getting out of bed first, he searched through his contacts until he got to her number and then - without a second’s hesitation - he hit the delete button, erasing it permanently. Despite it being his choice to do so, a sudden surge of adrenaline flooded his system. Can always add the number back in if she replies, he thought. Perhaps she’d booked the day off from work because she knew she’d be feeling tired after the weekend? It was a long shot but not entirely impossible.

For the briefest of moments, Paul considered going through to his messages and finding the one he’d sent her. By going into it, it was all too easy to add her back into his contacts. Maybe delete her number the following day. The briefest of moments.

‘If she contacts you, add her then… Until then - remove all temptation to send her another message. Show you’re over her now and that you’re not going to put up with this crap anymore,’ he said to himself. ‘Fuck her.’ He paused a moment and then tossed his phone onto the bed, next to him. Then, he jumped out from under the covers and proceeded to ready himself for another “fun-filled” shift at the warehouse. In his mind, he was already wishing for the next long weekend.

*

NOW

Paul dropped his rucksack to the floor by the stairs at the end of the hallway. He was saying something but all Robyn could hear was a ringing in her ears as he hurried towards her. As he neared - stepping over the body of Mikey - and her tired eyes focused, she could see the panic in his eyes and forced a smile. In her head she apologised but - in truth - nothing escaped her lips but a mumbled noise.

Lifting her by her legs, Paul tried to get her off the pipe only to realise that she was cuffed in place. Gently he lowered her again and looked towards Mikey. He was still talking. Robyn’s hearing only kicking in for the last of the sentence.

‘… have the keys?’ he asked.

She tried to speak again but more “noise” came from her mouth.

Paul hurried over to Mikey’s body and he started to pat his pockets down, searching for the small keys with which to undo the restraints. He froze when he noticed the GoPro.

‘What is this?’ he asked.

He reached for the camera and tried the power button. Nothing. The battery was as dead as the camera’s owner. He set it to one side and started to pat down Mikey again. There was nothing in Mikey’s pocket but a car key and two batteries for the camera. A hope that - maybe - the device might give him a clue as to where the key could have been.

Quickly, he replaced the dead battery with one of the fresh ones he’d found. Pressing the power button he was relieved to see the camera’s small screen light up. If the camera didn’t give a hint as to where the key may be then he’d call the fire brigade out and they could cut her down. The scalpels used by his warehouse team - not due in for another couple of hours - probably wouldn’t be able to cut it.

A couple of button presses and the most recent video started to playback. It was Mikey tormenting Robyn. Mikey stumbling back as she kicked out… Fast Forward… Robyn alone and screaming… Fast Forward… Robyn weeping…

‘Jesus…’

He skipped to the previous recording.

Mikey’s voice came through the small speaker, ‘Have you heard of The Game?’

Paul froze as the recording stopped and went straight to the next video.

He had heard of The Game…

*

THE GAME

Paul screamed at his computer out of frustration as Vicki made her choice with a simple pointed figure. He was hoping she would refuse to make any such decision. If she didn’t, the host would have been only too happy to release both capsules and everyone would have met a grisly fate. One final good dollop of blood and guts before the end of the season and the long wait until the next. But no… Only one capsule emptied to the spikes below and - even then - the camera cut to the contestant’s reaction as opposed to the gruesome death offered by the spikes. A real anti-climax after he’d invested so much time into seeing what would happen. An anti-climax made worse given the fact he’d voted against her in the first place. So now he was not only cheated out of some more gore but also out of a good few hundred quid should his bet on the other contestant been more successful.

‘Fuck sake. Fucking cunt!’

Paul slammed the lid of his laptop down and tossed the machine onto the mattress next to where he was propped up on a pillow.

‘Fucking piece of shit!’

He paused. Maybe the camera would cut back to the spikes and in his haste to slam the computer shut, he was about to miss it. He quickly grabbed the machine and opened it back up again. Having not been shut long enough, the screen lit up on the previous screen once more. The Game had finished and instead an advert was playing.

Think you have what it takes to join our team?

The advert was put together with lashings of gore which was enough to keep Paul - and the other viewers - from turning off. Between the violent imagery there was behind the scenes footage of people working on the various rooms, laughing as they did so. All team-members appearing to be a part of a busy, yet cheerful group of workers.

We want to see what you can come up with. The sender of the best video will not only win one million pounds but also get a job working for us! And, if you’re worried about the repercussions, don’t be! The winner will automatically be granted full immunity from their crimes! At the end of the advert a written disclaimer popped up on the screen which clearly stated not all entrants would receive immunity for any potential misdemeanours they undertook as part of their entry. Beneath that, a further statement warning that any and all footage sent in could be used by The Game as the producers saw fit. So basically even if you didn’t win, your footage could be shown around the world and you could be found guilty of whatever crime you were committing in them. Do the crime and hide it perfectly well? Doesn’t matter. Tape can still be shown. Paul shook his head. He didn’t ask himself how the producers could get away with basically asking people to go out and commit crimes. The very fact the show existed proved they already had friends in high places. Would take a special kind of person to want to get involved with that.

*

NOW

Going through the footage as Robyn hung nearby, whimpering and barely conscious, Paul Crisp could see what Mikey had been doing. There was footage of his conversation with Gloria, discussing the plan. There was footage explaining the “concept” behind the tape… There was everything, even footage from Mikey’s chest as he was filming dragging Robyn to his car. As he did so, he was heard to be moaning about not being able to kill Paul. One death down, have to make yours really good. There was everything to show that the tapings were Mikey’s idea and he’d coerced Gloria into helping. There was proof, even, that Paul was nothing to do with it… All on these little files saved to a small memory card… These glorious files which were actually pretty good. Certainly in keeping with The Game. These glorious files that - with a little editing - could be really good. Just because Mikey was dead now, there was no harm in sending the tape in, Paul thought. If it won then Paul could step forward and claim responsibility for it - show them one final kill. If it didn’t win then only the tape showing Mikey killing everyone would be potentially shown. The authorities would come looking for Mikey and the victims. Sure Paul would get hauled in but it was there - clear as day on the tapes… Mikey was saying Paul had left. All Paul had to do was check to make sure there was no footage of the warehouse in any of the files - or rather, nothing which could pin-point the warehouse itself, such as exterior shots. Nothing which would lead the police here.

Paul grinned at the thought of earning easy money. Win a million, close the warehouse down and invest in such a way he would never have to work again. But, before he could send the file in, he needed one final kill to ensure he had all the footage possible to increase Mikey’s chances of winning.

Paul noticed a hood on the floor next to Mikey. Without a second thought he picked it up, along with the pipe. He could set the camera up to record and he could capture all that he needed to capture. At the end of it, he could look to the camera and remove the hood - a piece of footage he wouldn’t show the producers until it was clear he had won and would receive immunity. Then he just needed to dust his prints off the pipe lying next to Mikey and dispose of the bodies - and they could stay down in the basement whilst the workers worked upstairs. As soon as the warehouse was shut for the night, he could back one of the vans into the building, load it up and take the bodies somewhere to bury them deep.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised what a plan it was.

He set the camera down on the floor in order to capture enough of the shot to see Robyn take the beating he was going to give. Next, he grabbed the pipe and turned to his ex-girlfriend.

Paul’s mind was racing. It was one thing to think of these terrible things and this “fool-proof” plan but - in reality - could he go through with it? Despite the fact she had dumped him, he did still love her and there was a part of him which hoped she would realise the error of her ways - again - and ask him back out.

Again.

There was the problem.

He’d been here before. Even if she did get the necessary help to survive and did view him as her hero - there was nothing to stop her from dumping him again a few months later and, next time, she might not take him back. It was hit and miss now and… Well… He looked back to the camera… One million pounds, that’s what they said the prize was. Could buy a new girlfriend for that…

With one hand Paul slipped the mask over his head, obscuring his face from the camera, and he raised the metal pipe up in the air. One hard hit to the head should do it but he wouldn’t stop there. The Game liked their gore and - with enough blows - he was sure he could give them just that. No longer seeing his girlfriend before him, instead just a meal-ticket to a potentially better future, he brought the pipe down hard on her cranium.

The camera’s microphone clearly picked up the sound of the crack as her skin split open and skull fractured. One blow of many. Onwards and upwards to a better future… Money, an easier job and - hopefully - a woman who wouldn’t keep fucking with his head.

If she’d just answered that text he’d sent, she could have avoided this.

Ten miles away, tucked next to a sleeping bag in an abandoned tent - the battery of a mobile phone ran out of the juice. The waiting text message, unread on the screen, faded to black.