Page 157 of The Most Dangerous Games

“He did,” Ward says. “And if you survive long enough, you can ask him why.”

He shakes his head. He’s lost a duel with his own son.

“In a few minutes, I fervently hope to be done with you, once and for all,” he says.

Tipton says, “So what’s next?”

“You will essentially be asked to compete against yourself,” Ward says. “All of you will be asked to do the same.”

Ward looks at the doors. He’d rather be anywhere else.

“You’ll be alone,” he says. “Each of you. In a room made for you.”

Jack’s voice is flat. “Made how?”

Ward meets his eyes.

“By your worst fear,” he says. “And whatever you do—don’t confuse discomfort with danger. That mistake costs people everything.”

109.

Alek Andrich is as frightened as she’s ever been in her life as soon as the door to her small room closes behind her.

Not because of the unknown.

Because of what she knows in this moment.

The reality of the inside of this room.

To this point in her life, she has survived wars, real ones, first at home and then in this “game.” She survived a knife fight with a man she’s still certain would have finished the job if given the opportunity.

But none of that has prepared her for the snakes and spiders crawling toward her now on the floor of this room.

Snakes and spiders of all sizes.

What appears to be an advancing army of them.

Making her skin crawl.

This is fake, Alek is already telling herself.

It has to be an illusion, some trick of technology.

Special effects.

Except that the terror and revulsion she feels couldn’t be more real.

This is her nightmare, slowly advancing toward her.

And there is no place for her to run.

Or hide.

Patrick Arrasmith

No chair or table on which she can stand.

No way for her to somehow climb up the wall to get away from these crawly things.