The large rat scampered in and sniffed around the straw covered floor. Most of our jaws dropped and not only at the sight of the patchy beady eyed rodent but at the realization the safe zones were no longer safe.

Just like the other elements of the game, I couldn't trust that what was meant to protect us from the wrath of the Grimm entities would live up to its purpose. The four walls surrounding us could collapse like thin wafers and expose us to whatever creature awaiting a chance to take advantage.

If we all decided to no longer play the games or play by their rules, how would they explain such an abrupt change to their viewers?

It must've been devastating to the production team to witness so much chaos unfolding behind the scenes of their live show. I imagined everyone working on the show panicking at the abrubt curveballs, phones ringing off the hook, emails being sent and received left and right.

A part of me was elated at Arcanum's mishaps. Could this special season unintentionally mark the beginning of the end for Grimm Games?

Even as the rat roamed the cramped space in shear curiosity, it steered clear of Dylan's body and the large pool of red that surrounded him. Either way, none of us tore our gaze from the rodent.

Spencer backed away and took Dylan's spear in hand when the rodent came within feet from him. "Keep that thing away from me." Disgust flashed on his face, briefly scrubbing back the grief in his eyes. "You can treat it like a dog all you want, but if it comes near me—"

With that, the rat sniffed an invisible trail back out of the door and out of sight.

Tears on his cheeks caught the light from the space as he bowed his head to return his attention to his brother's lifeless body in the center of the room.

Unfortunately, the shock coursing through me stemmed from Spencer dealing with his brother dying in his arms, rather than the horror of seeing a dead body. That body belonged to a sixteen-year-old who had been dealt a shitty hand in life.

Even though watching gruesome live deaths for years straight as well as on the streets desensitized most of us to the violence, losing a beloved sibling is a predicament I'd never want to imagine.

I swallowed a large lump in my throat. "I'm sorry." I choked the words out.

The intensity in Spencer's tense shoulders lightened a bit. "There's no point in trying to win anymore, but I'm not giving up just to die in this place. I think my brother had the right idea."

Millie closed the door and locked it. "Backstage is a bad idea. That will get us killed faster than a troll or a big bad wolf."

Jade turned to her with an eyebrow raised and a no nonsense look in her eyes. "So, what are you suggesting, Millie? Stroll right into another one of their twisted games?"

"I'm suggesting we be slightly a bit smarter than that. Strategic." Millie cut her eye to me to suggest I step in between her and Jade, but I was curious too.

"What are our options?" I shrugged.

Millie shrugged too. "Slaughter every Grimm creature and anything that stands in our way."

"Then sit here and rot?" Jade shook her head at the suggestion.

"How about our first step be we agree to thwart the games." I made eye contact with each of them, and everyone nodded. "If Sonya wants to compete then she can play by herself."

When my gaze met Spencer's, he sniffed and sloppily wiped the tears from his face with his palms. "I think my first step is giving my brother a proper burial," he said. "These people made sure they wouldn't be held accountable or financially responsible for... anything especially...deaths." He gulped, struggling with the word. "It's in the contract. Not even the fine print. It's big and bold. No burials, no funerals, no compensation, nothing."

"You're right," I nodded, agreeing. "We should find a secure place for him and tidy up the safe house while we're here."

"Where do you need me?" Jade stepped forward, volunteering her services. One of her personality traits that attracted me to her.

While Spencer prepared Dylan's body, Millie handed out orders. "Jade, you and Kam can stay here to clean up the place, and me and Spencer could take Dylan out."

I shook my head. "I'm going with you. You need all the help you can get."

Millie scoffed. "No, your hand is messed up."

"What about your neck?" Jade pointed out.

"I'm fine." Millie swiped the air dismissively. "The scratch is nothing. But Kam's hand is another thing."

"I can still use it." I gently opened and closed my fingers into a fist to test the damage and showcase my ability. "It doesn't even hurt as much anymore."

"We need someone to watch over the place while we're out," Millie went on. "You and Jade stay here to keep Sonya from taking it. While we're out, Spencer and I can scout the place and get a lay of the land then report back. Then we can stragegize."

Before I could protest her decision, the speakers around the area crackled to life, stopping us in our tracks. "Welcome back to the thrilling world of Grimm Games, ladies and gents! The in-game deaths might be fewer this season, but that doesn't mean the fatalities aren't happening. In fact, we have another fallen contender."

The TV's black screen flickered on, revealing Chuck Gillian on stage addressing the studio audience and viewers at home. His pale forehead shone from sweat or body oils, and his usually neat hair was disheveled.

He stared into the camera with unemotional eyes, despite the wide grin showcasing his pearly white, even teeth. "We say farewell to the unwell yet resilient Dylan Jeffrey the Sick as he becomes the second contestant to perish in the Games."

An image of Dylan in an epic pose with his makeshift spear raised in hand, filled the screen. The color quickly faded, and a red X stamped over his greyed-out image, matching the sound effects that acted as a jump scare.

The intricate graphics shifted the image of Dylan elaborately to position him next to the X'ed-out image of Tobias. Then, mysterious footage of Dylan's last moments played alongside an epic action-inspired soundtrack. But this recording was different than the reality of him gradually bleeding out on the floor of the safe house.

Instead, it showed a young black boy with a similar complexion, build and hairstyle fighting the Wolfman in the darkened barn with a spear.

I glanced at Spencer. The shock and anger in his eyes were apparent even in the dim, warm light of the room. "This is bullshit," he murmured through clenched teeth.

We watched in horror as the boy sprinted from the Wolfman, nearly losing him around a couple of straw stacks. The boy's speed was impressive, and even more so was his agility as he leapt and dodged the clawed swipes of the Wolfman. Despite wearing a black jumpsuit with visible puncture marks on the thigh—exactly where Dylan had been injured—there was no indication that the boy's leg was ever injured, given how he maneuvered with effortless grace and speed.

The Wolfman's heavy breaths and guttural growls echoed ominously through every speaker, blending flawlessly with the epic soundtrack. His massive claws slashed through the air, narrowly missing the boy, who rolled and twisted with uncanny agility. The camera captured every tense moment, each close call, and every daring maneuver.

In a sudden, heart-stopping moment, the boy turned to face the Wolfman head-on. The camera zoomed in on his determined face, sweat glistening on his brow, eyes wide with both fear and defiance. He lunged forward, driving his spear toward the beast's heart but missing.

The Wolfman roared, a blood-curdling sound that reverberated through the speakers. He swiped at the boy, catching him across the chest. The boy staggered, blood seeping through his torn jumpsuit shown as a glistening liquid in the low light. But instead of retreating, he pushed forward, striking the Wolfman in the arm with renewed ferocity.

The fight was brutal and raw, a desperate dance of survival. The boy's spear finally found its mark, plunging deep into the Wolfman's side. The beast let out a final, agonized howl before collapsing to the ground. Its ribcage steadily rose and fell, reminding me that all the Grimm creatures possessed weaknesses.

Were their injuries the reason why they were no longer freely roaming around the barnyard set? Were they getting treated and prepped backstage for another game or battle?

His strength spent, the boy's legs gave out, and he dropped the spear, collapsing next to the Wolfman in defeat. As he lay there, the camera zoomed in on the slash marks on the chest of his jumpsuit, and the glistening blood seeping through the fabric to pool around him.

The boy's chest heaved with labored breaths, and with a final, shuddering exhale, he succumbed to his injuries. The screen faded to black, the only sound remaining was the eerie, haunting music that underscored the tragic end of another contender.

As the screen went to black, Spencer's rage boiled over. "They're manipulating everything," he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "My brother never had a chance."

The haunting silence that followed was filled only with the echo of Spencer's words and the weight of the grim reality we were all trapped in.

Spencer broke the silence. "Not even his real death was dramatic enough for TV."

No one spoke as we worked to prepare Dylan's body for removal from the shack. Spencer gently repositioned Dylan, laying him on his back and crossing his arms over his chest. Jade respectfully draped the remaining fabric of her shirt over Dylan's face.

On cue, without a word, Millie bent down to grab his legs just under the knee. Spencer lifted him by the shoulders, and through the struggle together they managed to carry him, his body bowed between them. I gripped my blade, ready to protect us, while Jade unlocked and opened the door, allowing them to pass through.

As soon as they safely exited the space, Jade closed and locked the door before she rushed to me and sank into my embrace. I took in every ounce of her warmth and comfort. I pulled her trembling body against mine to still her.

The world outside the shack faded away as I held her closer, our breaths mingling. Her fingers traced soothing patterns on my back as the unspoken emotions passed between us.

Comfort, love, intimacy. We needed this.