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Kamala, already with the revolver in her hand after retrieving it from Mason, moves over to the shepherds as they give her the vote.
“Ethan,” she claims.
“No…” His voice cracks. “No, please...”
Kamala collects a bullet from the black casing, doing her thing and taking her sweet time to further build anticipation before handing the revolver to Ethan’s trembling hands. He turns his card over and, surprise, surprise, he’s a lamb, not that he was fooling anyone, shaking like a goddamn leaf.
“I—I can’t do this.” Ethan cries out, barely able to stand up straight.
“Reminder to all players that refusal to play by the rules or failure to complete a task will result in instant elimination,” Kamala chimes, leaving the how to the imagination.
His fingers barely close around the grip, staring at it as though refusing to believe it’s real. Across the table, Mason folds his arms, letting a satisfied chuckle escape him with ease.
Ethan swallows hard, mumbling that he doesn’t want to die. Despite his rising panic, he presses the barrel against the side of his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His finger closes in on the trigger and tightens.
Bang.
The gun roars. The sound slams through the chamber like a thunderclap before the side of his head bursts apart.
Blood, bone, and fragments of grey matter spray across the green felt and the polished floor beside the table. His body drops, crumpling like a puppet whose strings got cut.
The revolver clatters from his lifeless hand and spins once before coming to rest in a widening pool of crimson. The metallic smell reaches us a heartbeat later.
The reactions to this scene can be described as a mixture of sadistic delight and complete horror.
Mason only exhales through his nose, breaking the tension first. “Huh, that’s what liars get.”
Kamala casually crouches beside Ethan’s body as though he’s nothing more than an inconvenience as she retrieves the revolver from the growing pool of blood, wiping the grip and barrel with a folded black cloth. I don’t watch her setting up for another round as my eyes now fall back onto Adrian. Considering his reaction, which is nothing, he looks more like an avid player than the rest.
His peers, so-to-speak, are here because they crave the violence, the challenge, and, of course, the money with the possibility of becoming a hunter. Most of them have watched Kill Feed before or at least seen clips, so they knew exactly what they signed up for. Yet, it isn’t unusual to see them recoil and rethink life choices once they are actually in the game.
“The game will continue.” The mechanical voice doesn’t pause for mourning, and I let out a sigh. One dead and four more to go. That means Adrian has just become statistically more likely to die.
Another useless congregation and whispers take place, followed by the next announcement. A woman now holds the gun to her head, looking far steadier and with far more dignity than Ethan did as she scowls at the group of shepherds before pulling the trigger.
Click.
She almost collapses from relief before pulling herself together and handing the revolver over to Kamala with a smile on her face, “Can’t get rid of me that easy, cunts.”
The game rolls forward before anyone has time to celebrate. Vote after vote, reveal after reveal. A contestant barely hesitates before swinging the revolver toward a tall, older man across the table.
“I’m sorry, but it has to be you,” he says with absolutely no guilt whatsoever, and BANG, his body’s on the floor. His blood paints Leo next to him, and the guy recoils with a snarl, furrowing his brows as he wipes blood off his cheek.
“Man, I hope that Mason kid survives,” Kieran mutters to the hunters beside him. “I’d love to hunt him.”
Looks like Kieran and I aren’t done budding heads. Mason will be my kill, considering the bastard threatened Adrian.
“Whatever you’re thinking…” Marcos whispers as he catches my attention drifting towards the band of military bandits. “Just don’t.”
I was about to open my mouth and protest when the mechanical voice cut through the air.
“The shepherds have voted. The next turn goes to Leo.”
Marcos instantly turns his attention back to the scene unfolding on his beloved below.
Leo takes the revolver from Kamala’s grip with a calm that tells me the man is a wolf, and surely enough, he flips his card and we’re staring at a Queen.
His jaw tightens, and I can see the coils turning inside his head. He’s far more expressive than Adrian, which makes him easy to read, regardless of how hard he tries to remain placid.
