Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
A slip of cream-colored paper, slightly crinkled, was taped to the inside. It was just like the ones Cloe and at least a dozen others received. I had wondered if I would be getting another since one apparently wasn’t enough. I held the locker door and read it.
You aren’t just another player.
You’re the prize.
The one we all want to catch.
So lock your doors.
Cling to the people who swear they’ll protect you.
Scream if it makes you feel better.
It won’t change a thing.
We’re going to see how pretty you bleed.
XOXO—your favorite stalker.
I stood there in the silence, the words crawling like static across my skin. I closed my eyes and counted as I breathed. This was far less invasive than the Polaroid had been. Stuffing creepy notes in lockers and getting around the combination lock? That was a high school-level prank at most. I exhaled, opened my eyes, and snatched the note off with more force than necessary, stuffing it into my cheer bag.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
I could deal with it later. I didn’t have time or the mental bandwidth for any breakdowns, and these assholes didn’t deserve the pleasure of one. I hurried through changing into my practice uniform, tugging off my clothes and slipping into the familiar black-and-silver cheer gear, opting for shorts instead of the skirt tonight. My boots were the last to go, exchanged with my dependable cheer shoes with the soles broken in from a hundred routines. Once I was dressed, I dug through my bag again, rummaging for the hair tie I was sure I’d packed this morning.
A toilet flushed, giving me a pause for the second time.
“Who’s in here?” My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. Not wanting to sound totally freaked, I added quickly, “We’re late.”
There was the unmistakable clink of a stall door being unlocked. A second or so later, Brittany stepped from around the corner. “Sorry if I scared you,” she apologized with a small, sheepish smile.
“It’s fine.” I was more concerned with what I saw. Her blonde curls were slightly damp at the ends, one arm cradled her stomach, and her face was a few shades paler than usual.
“Are you okay?”
She grimaced. “I ate sugar-free gummy bears at lunch without thinking. I have no gallbladder. You do the math.”
“Oh, that’s brutal,” I replied sympathetically.
“Think Roxxi will let me sit out tonight? I can’t tumble.” She rubbed her stomach like even saying the word triggered a cramp.
“She’s not an overlord, Britt. You’re in no position to run any routines.”
She gave me a flat, skeptical look. I couldn’t help laughing a little.
“I’ll talk to her for you. Do you have an extra hair tie I can borrow before we head out? Mine’s apparently gone AWOL.”
“Yeah, hang on.” She turned to her locker and popped it open, digging through a pile of half-folded uniforms and a hoodie that had seen better days. She finally pulled out a fresh elastic from a package of them and tossed it my way.
I caught it, thanking her.
“What do you think about being Marked this year?”
I shrugged, careful to keep my voice neutral. “Not remotely ecstatic, but it’s all about Crowsfell tradition, right? There isn’t anything I can do about it.”
A loud, violent slam echoed through the room. Sharp enough to rattle the surrounding lockers.
We both flinched hard.
The lights flickered overhead, shutting on and off as if someone was playing with the switch.
“Oh, hell no.”
“Time to get the fuck out of here,” Britt declared sharply, right beside me.
We barely made it three steps before we were plunged into darkness, and a voice rang out. It was distorted. Warped into something that sounded like a kid’s toy melted in a microwave, cartoonish and wrong.
“Two little cheerleaders alone in the dark. Which one should bleed first?”
My heart shot into my throat.
Brittany grabbed my wrist just as I caught her elbow, and we bolted, our sneakers squealing across the floor. We rounded the corner at full speed, just as the lights came back on. Both of us stopped so abruptly that we almost fell. Standing directly in front of the only exit was a person cloaked in all black with a hood up and sporting gloves. Their face was concealed behind an LED mask that glitched between a laughing face and a skull.
“Running’s no fun if there’s nowhere to run,” the voice drawled, mechanical and slick with menace.
We backed up immediately, steps matched, instincts flaring. I sensed it before I saw him over Brittany’s shoulder. Our crow was behind us. How had he gotten in here without us hearing?
Brittany sucked in a sharp breath, her grip on my arm tightening. “Wait, they can’t do anything yet. The Hunt hasn’t started! They don’t have the hours, and—.”
She screamed as the person in front of us lunged.
We broke apart, her going right and me left, back into a row of lockers. I made it to the end and was circling the bench when Dennis slammed into me, arms padded and heavy, locking tight around my waist before I could fall, carrying me backward.