Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
The horrific reality sank into her bones as the final notes of the tango faded into silence.
No more music. No more dancing.
In the stillness came a chilling awareness. Eyes watched them, masked over lascivious grins.
Dr. Tannhäuser released her with a smirk that promised everything she feared. He knew how high the stakes were, had felt every inch of tightness inside of her. And he looked like he wanted nothing more than to rip her in two.
“Jesus Christ,” the whispered prayer escaped too late.
What was done was done. She was here. There was no getting out. She could only get through it.
The hunters melted back like a thick cloud of black smoke. Daisy stood frozen on the dance floor, her heart pounding so hard her temples pulsed. Sweat gathered on her skin like mounting tears. Tributes gravitated toward the edges of the room, their faces pale beneath their masks. But those predatory eyes tracked their every move.
No escape.
“My beautiful tributes,” Aunt Vanessa announced, her voice cutting through the roar in Daisy’s ears. “The Wrecking Ball has concluded, and the hunt is about to begin.”
She wasn’t ready. She hadn’t prepared.
Daisy searched for Maggie, but the room had changed. Collars had loosened. Hair had fallen. Their perfect appearances were already splitting apart at the seams. It was as if the universe knew this was all an act—artifice in the name of showmanship. But she could already taste the corruption surrounding them.
Immeasurable wealth. Unstoppable entitlement. This was not a gentleman’s game.
“Before we begin, a brief reminder of what awaits you beyond these doors,” Aunt V continued.
This time, the men weren’t looking at her. They were looking at the tributes. Hungry stares. Shifting bodies. They adjusted themselves, already hardening for what lay ahead.
Daisy’s gaze shot to the grandfather clock in the corner. Its brass pendulum swung in steady arcs, measuring out the seconds until everything changed. The minute hand crept toward the twelve. Ten minutes. That was all that remained between now and whatever came next.
“The Preserve comprises two hundred acres of managed woodland, formal gardens, and hedge mazes.” Aunt V’s hands folded gracefully as she spoke. “You will find paths winding through the grounds, some lit by torchlight, others swallowed by darkness. The fog will be thick. Use it wisely.”
Daisy’s throat tightened. Eight minutes left.
“Safe zones are marked by green lanterns. Within these zones, no hunting, capture, or intimate contact should occur. Use the safe zones to rest, hydrate, and recover as needed. The primary safe zone is the grotto, located in the northwest section of the grounds. You’ll find warm robes, blankets, and a cornucopia of refreshments there, should you need respite.”
Seven minutes. The pendulum swung.
“The main lodge is strictly off-limits to all tributes unless escorted by staff. Violations will result in immediate disqualification. The perimeter fence marks the absolute boundary of the grounds. Do not attempt to breach it.”
Daisy flinched as Maggie’s hand found hers in the crush of bodies. Her ice-cold fingers entwined with hers. They stared at each other, too afraid to speak and nothing to say to accurately articulate such a surreal moment of fear.
Six minutes. The clock’s ticking grew louder, each second a drumbeat driving them toward the inevitable.
“The bells will toll for one solid minute. When they silence, the hunt begins. You will hear bells throughout the night. A single toll marks a capture. When you hear the bells toll continuously again, it will be sunrise, and the hunt will end.” Aunt V’s smile softened. “What you do until then is between you and your god.”
Five minutes. Her pulse raced.
“Please make your way to the veranda now.”
In unison, white-gloved servants opened the doors, letting in the balmy night air that kicked up the curtains in a great flourish, as if waving flags as the race was about to begin.
They shuffled like corralled cattle through the doors that might as well have been chutes. Turning, they waited like brainless sheep for the slaughter to begin.
“The hunters will be held back for sixty seconds as the bell tolls to give you a head start.” Aunt Vanessa said, following them into the night air. “Use every second.”
“Fuck this.” Trisha appeared, pushing through the river of sequins and silk, already plucking off her heels. She threw them into the bushes and ripped holes in her stockings at the toes, shoving the slick silk up to her ankles, as she moved to the edge of the stone steps, prepared to run.
Daisy was pulled in a tide of bodies as Maggie’s grip anchored her to a fading, fragile reality. They found themselves pressed against the stone pillars. Fifty-seven terrified souls.
The grounds stretched into darkness, green lanterns glowing like scattered emeralds in the distant fog.
“Daisy.” Maggie’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”
Her hand instinctively tightened. “Me too.”
“What if we don’t see each other again? What if something happens and we never—”