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There is an electric energy humming through the six of us, tying us together with an invisible thread. I’ve never felt so attuned to them. Never felt soconnected.
Time has finally come to lift the veil. To break the spell and remind our fools that we were never friends but foes all along—hungry wolves starving for blood.
It only takes a small breathless instant to release them from my hold. An effortless snip of the leashes I had collared around their minds.
They blink. Startled. Confusion sweeps over their faces as they look around before their gaze finally lands on us. They must notice the predatory glint in our eyes because the realization of where they are, andwhothey are with, ripples across their faces like a deadly crashing wave.
“Boo,” Gemini says with a sneer.
Constantine giggles as she continues to pace in place. A few whimpers float up in the air like weightless mist, and the thrill coiling in my stomach turns into something much larger—much more lethal.
I clear my throat.
Terrified eyes turn to me.
“I suggest,” I say with a slow drawl, “you run.”
Gemini’s sacrifice bolts as soon as the words are out of my mouth as if she was somehow waiting for the order. The soft sound of her bare feet on grass marries with her harried breath, as she quickly disappears into one of the tall hedged paths surrounding the maze’s center.
Gemini barks out a wicked laugh but doesn’t run after her. “I think I’ll give the little rabbit a head start,” he says to no one in particular.
We all plan to do the same.
The hunt doesn’t start until they’ve all successfully scurried away.
It takes a few seconds for the others to follow suit. But finally, they all make a mad dash for different paths, some stumbling over their own feet, slamming to their knees before hurriedly pushing themselves up and continuing their escape. While we wait, Belladonna, Constantine, and Mercy step out of their heelsand remove their earrings while the men step out of our dress shoes, readying for the eventual sprint around the maze.
My gaze flits to Mercy, still in her black dress, her dagger visible around her exposed left thigh. My eyes dip down to her bare feet, toes painted red.
“It’s time for us to take what’s ours,” Aleksandr says ceremoniously as he slowly rubs his palms together.
Before any of us move, we share a final, loaded glance.
Like taking a long deep inhale before a guttural scream.
Then finally …
We commence.
The serrated knifeI specifically chose for my sacrifice hangs loosely in my grip as I stroll through the maze. The same knife my father used when he first partook in the Feast of Fools, bestowed to him by his father before him.
It’s been a little more than half an hour since the fools skittered like mice. I caught my little rodent within ten minutes of the chase. But it was much too fast. I wanted to prolong the kill. Prolong the sick thrill thrumming through my veins. So I let him go. But not before biting half his ear off and slicing my knife through his right eye as punishment for being such an easy catch. I can still taste his blood on my tongue, the echo of his screams like a delicious, haunting melody.
With my free hand, I trail my fingers over the bush beside me, the hedges over twelve feet tall. I’ve worked up a sweat, the sleeves of my black shirt rolled up, the collar unbuttoned. I’m growing eager, knowing that next time I catch him, it will be for the kill.
I cock my head and listen. I know he’s close. No matter how hard he tries to hide, there’s a subtle, but powerful, force guiding me to him.
An agonizing wail suddenly rises up from the depths of the maze, then another. My breathing turns shallow, my heart beating faster as if the harrowing screams are pumping me full of unadulterated adrenaline.
When the silence returns, I hear a rustle of leaves.
Turning my head, I follow the sound.
Another rustle.
A low chuckle rumbles through my chest while I begin to run, knowing he’ll soon be in my grasp. I spot a figure dart across the opening of the path and I speed up, knife in hand. Turning the corner, I find him stumbling haphazardly through the maze attempting a futile escape.
The dreadful mite doesn’t stand a chance.
