"I don't want to die."

Patrek's words whirled through Miles' brain as he lay down for a nap, as he rinsed himself off in a mild shower, and as he got dressed. He wasn't sure why they wouldn't leave him alone, but he knew one thing for certain: he agreed with them.

He was rummaging through the contents of his fridge when he heard the rumble of conversations outside, and went to his window to check what was going on.

The skies had grown dark, and it someone had lit up another fire in the fire-pit. Through the slightly opened window, Miles smelled roasting meat, and something sweetly starchy that he recognized as sweet potatoes.

Making food for everyone, again? Why?

His stomach growled, and he decided he was too hungry to cook for himself, and would be better off eating with everyone else. Plus, how better to gauge the mood than to listen in on conversations and observe everyone's attitudes? Blending in was essential to keeping his cover, to not drawing suspicion to his behavior.

He exited his shelter and instantly went to stand near Patrek, but not too close. Patrek wore his leather jacket again, and his arms were folded as he stared into the flames, lost in thought.

"They want us to be communal," said Patrek, his words muffled by the flicker of the fire. The irony still came through his tone, and Miles snorted. "No, I'm serious," Patrek pointed at several opened crates filled with dusty bottles, "they delivered locally brewed beer and hard liquor. They want us to get drunk and be merry, or some shit."

Miles walked over to the boxes and lowered to browse through their contents. Sure enough, there were multiple large bottles of what looked like beer, and a few jugs of a clear liquid resembling white rum. None of them were opened yet, though, so he couldn't get a whiff of what their quality was.

I'm sure it's nothing but the best shit to fuck us up so the gods can be entertained, right? That, or it's poisoned.

As Miles meandered over to a log to sit down, he spotted Vick and Jessa coming over from Jessa's cabin. They were hand-in-hand, and were they any other man and woman strolling over, googly eyed and goofily smiling, he'd have found it cute. But they were Vick and Jessa, rotten to the core, the evident new leaders of this band of miscreants, and eager to encourage everyone into destruction. Whether she was possessed, Jessa embodied everything the ruler wanted this group to be—violent, outspoken, and viciously sexy.

Miles focused his gaze on the flames, burning his eyes to get rid of the image of Vick and Jessa acting like a newly married couple, cutesy and fawning over one another. He knew better—they were the opposite of cute. Not that he was super familiar with Jessa and how she operated, but he knew Vick more than he knew himself, sometimes. Vick was a prick who slept around with anyone who consented—and some who didn't—and boasted about his adventures for everyone to hear. Whatever he and Jessa had here was temporary, that Miles was certain of. He'd give him two days of frolicking with Jessa before he grew bored and moved on to the only other person within his interest, Taryn.

Taryn was, to Miles' disgust, definitely too occupied with Lorenzo to pay Vick any mind at that moment. She was sitting on Lorenzo's lap, her hand wandering under the hem of his pants and stroking him. Lorenzo was far from tactful himself, with his own hand fiddling about inside Taryn's pants, unquestionably in her erogenous zone. She kept biting at her lip, releasing quiet moans, but gazing all around as if to pretend like she was interested in what was going on. But she was way too deep in her desire to give a crap.

Miles didn't mind public displays of affection, quite the contrary. He'd more than once watched couples—and one-night-stands—going at it in corners of the parties he organized. He'd stumbled upon girls sucking face in bathrooms, going down on each other in empty bathtubs. Groups of folks engaging in orgies in abandoned rooms of the buildings Miles had infiltrated and used for his festivities. How many times had he witnessed dry-humping on couches in dark rooms—and sometimes real humping, next to piles of clothes on the floor?

Drugs and alcohol did things to his party-goers. And he didn't stop them, because he was all about observing their behaviors and taking notes. Human actions and reactions were fascinating to him. In a twisted way, he thrived on being an observer, a note-taker, and comparing all his conclusions later on. He wasn't turned on, per se, but didn't dislike the observation time, either.

Vick and Jessa's arrival before the fire seemed to break Taryn and Lorenzo away from their passionate and far-from-discreet fondling, as they pulled their hands out of each other's clothing and peered up with cheeky smiles.

"Enjoying yourselves?" Vick winked at Taryn, and gave Lorenzo an appreciative nod.

Both Lorenzo and Taryn acknowledged him, their faces flushing with red, but not in embarrassment. They were proud, pleased, pleasured.

Miles tried not to gag.

"Well, now that we're all here, we should open a bottle or two," said Jessa, gesturing at the alcohol crates. "The ruler told me these would show up at some point, and that it'd be a sin to not try some."

A sin because they'll kill us if we don't do what they ask, right?

"You heard the lady," said Vick, striding over to the boxes to extract one of the bottles. "Let's indulge."

Miles couldn't decide whether to spit at Vick defining Jessa as a lady, or to mock him for using big words like indulge. Though not a dumb dude by any means, it wasn't in Vick's personality to employ fancy words or come up with carefully constructed comments. He was a grunt and one-word sentences type of guy, except when complaining; this was a lot for him to say.

Miles had wondered about filling Vick in on his plans to secretly escape, to not draw attention. But to see Vick so smug, so deep into this game of lust and violence, Miles opted against it. Vick was too wrapped around Jessa's finger, and he'd end up telling her what was going on. And even if Jessa herself might be interested, the ruler wouldn't—and Jessa was the ruler's favorite person to possess. Anything hidden in the confines of Jessa's mind would belong to the ruler the instant she slipped into Jessa's consciousness again.

It wasn't worth it. Miles and Patrek would have to do this on their own, and if it worked, Vick and the others could thank them later.

If they even want to get out.

Jessa had been pallid and frail earlier, when carried to her cottage by Vick. Now, she was illuminated with warmth, a rosiness to her cheeks that suggested slight inebriation or internal satisfaction. Her wet hair indicated she'd showered, and changed into leggings and a low-cut top, revealing a hefty portion of her cleavage every time she bent over. And she bent over a lot, most definitely on purpose. She'd either gotten some rest, or Vick had comforted her in physical ways that had restored her to life, or possibly both. She wasn't the same fragile, half-passed-out woman she'd been a few hours prior.

Patrek saw it, too. He watched her, her not-so-subtle flirtatious moves as she accepted a beer from Vick and licked her lips over the rim while fixed on Vick's mouth. Then she glanced towards his lower half and winked.

Patrek wrinkled his nose whenever she spoke in her sickeningly suave voice, and rejected her offering of a drink to instead go and fetch one himself. Standing on the sidelines, observing—like Miles. Outsiders, keeping their distance from the main festivities.

But they'd out themselves if they refused to partake in this island's activities. Patrek had at least grabbed a drink; Miles needed to do so as well, to blend in. Resigned, he gulped down a gross flavor of party recollections as he fumbled over to one of the crates and got out a bottle of dark beer. He unscrewed it, and took a sip, wincing as the thick taste took hold of his tongue and clogged up his throat. He'd been a drinker in his past, but as of recently had been slowing down, sticking to cheap beer and sometimes wine. This brew was foul—old and chunky, and a bit too strong for him. But it was that or hard liquor, and he wouldn't fall into that trap.

Taryn and Lorenzo had a beer each, sharing them—apparently no one bottle was the same. They took swigs, then set their bottles down to resume their touching of private parts.

Sighting Taryn chewing on her lip, her eyes rolling backwards, Miles couldn't ignore the quick throb of his own private part. He hadn't had sex in a while, and had to admit that watching Taryn in her pleasure riled him up a bit more than he'd wish for.

He froze, the bottle halfway to his mouth, a hand in his pocket and coming quite close to his dick, before he remembered he had had sex recently. He just had no idea how it had happened, nor if he'd enjoyed it.

With Kera. Fuck.

He'd taken her virginity, and they'd both been blacked-out, under the island's spell, unable to recall any of it.

The beer turned sour in his mouth, and he refrained from spitting it out over the flames.

After all that, he'd left Kera all alone to fend for herself?

"Coward," he muttered to himself, heading to the crates to search for a different brew. This one was worsening the flavor of guilt on his tongue, and giving him a stomach-ache. He wouldn't be able to focus if he wasn't feeling physically well. That was what the gods and the ruler wanted—to get them off guard, to intoxicate them so they'd be more fun to look at, so they'd be unhinged and let their true selves loose.

Miles wouldn't. Not here, not now, not ever.

He placed his gaze on Jessa, instead, watching her as she danced around Vick. There was no music, but she was humming something. Her voice was delicate, and actually pretty good, to Miles' surprise. Softer than he'd imagined, practiced. No lyrics, but mumbled half-words as she giggled and twirled around Vick, who was mesmerized by every sway of her hips.

Something was off about her, different. Whatever Vick had done to her in her cabin had convinced her, changed her, rejuvenated her somehow. She was the type to be repulsed by assholes like Vick, that much she'd made clear when Miles had talked to her a few days prior. She hadn't come out and said it, but her demeanor whenever Vick was near was evident—he grossed her out. She was smart, only attracted to like-minded men, interested in handsome hunks with big brains—like Miles.

But Miles had turned her down, and quite publicly, at that. Had she resorted to the one guy who groveled at her feet and wanted nothing more than to get under her clothes and have his way with her?

No, Jessa wouldn't stoop so low with no reason.

He'd thought it many times before, but Jessa was attractive. A bombshell, some might say. Under other circumstances, he might have taken the opportunity she'd subtly offered him, the alliance, the chance to share a cabin. The opportunity to view what she had hidden—though not too well hidden right now—under her shirt.

But he'd already set his focus on Kera, and knowing how Kera felt about him...

He rubbed his forehead and set down his old beer to open the new one. This one had a lighter, fruitier aroma that was more pleasant to him. He sipped on it and sat on a log, letting the alcohol flow through his veins and calm him down.

Try as he might to avert his gaze, it kept going to Jessa. Vick was now seated, and she was grinding on him, giving him a personal lap-dance. Vick leaned back and ogled her back side while licking his lips. She twisted, she shook her ass near his face, and contorted into positions Miles had only dreamed of seeing, or had spied on in porno movies.

His penis throbbed again, and he shifted his position to ensure no bulge was showing through his pants.

Was anyone else having this same problem? Well, Lorenzo and Taryn were too busy to care, but what about Patrek?

Miles was too embarrassed to even hint at his own issue by asking Patrek if he was okay.

No way.

Jessa was facing Miles while dancing on Vick—and for a second too long, her gaze met Miles'. She grinned at him, and he could have sworn a bit of purple twinkled in her eyes. It stunned Miles, making him unable to pull away, to stop gawking at her. A sort of violet glow gyrated around her; subtle enough that no one else was paying attention to it, but there nonetheless. It took Miles' breath away.

He somehow pried his gaze off her undulating curves and the eerie purpleness of her aura, catching his breath. He took note of his irregular heartbeats, and chugged half his beer while glaring into the fire. He let the flames blind him, burning his retinas, again, desperate to forget what he'd seen, what he'd perceived while locking gazes with Jessa.

It wasn't her, not fully. She was bold, she maintained eye-contact with ease, and wouldn't be shy about openly flirting with Vick and Miles at once. But that gaze, that flirtation was different, and Miles couldn't figure out why. The purple—it usually represented the ruler and her possession of Jessa's body. But Jessa wasn't possessed at that moment, was she? Or was the ruler inside her, making her lap-dance on Vick and bat her eyelashes at Miles at the same time?

Or...

He shook his head as he tipped more beer into his mouth, refusing to acknowledge the absurdity of his own thoughts. Was it possible that the ruler could leave pieces of herself inside Jessa? Little snippets that were slowly transforming Jessa from the inside? Her DNA changing, her genes morphing as she became someone, something else?

Is she becoming the ruler? Or is the ruler stealing her body permanently?

Miles ripped away from Jessa's hypnotic dancing—he hadn't realized he'd started watching her again—and spun on his log to face away from the fire. Patrek had vanished, and Taryn and Lorenzo were now making out so loudly it made Miles want to hurl.

He got up, wiping his mouth of the beer that he'd unwillingly let dribble down his chin while he was fixated on Jessa. No way was he staying out here any longer. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up dragged into a threesome with either of the couples, and he wouldn't be experimenting with something like that in a place like this.

He finished the beer, tossed the bottle into a large circular tub they were using as a trash can, and proceeded towards the edge of the cliff to disconnect from the group.

To get answers, he needed to get closer to Jessa. But she scared the crap out of him, and more so if it was plausible that the ruler was still inside her, always inside her. Flirting with Jessa would mean flirting with the ruler, and his guts churned at the thought. Some supernatural being whispering sweet nothings in his ears and rubbing her purple-tinted skin all over his body?

He gagged again. Where was Patrek? He needed someone like-minded to confide in, or at least to express his disgust to.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he jolted around, preparing to say, "Patrek, thank fuck, I'm over this!" but was paused as he realized it wasn't Patrek who'd come to find him.

It was Taryn. "Miles?" She was smiling at him, an air of mischief in her demeanor, in her features.

He tensed up at once, backing away from her while making sure he wasn't too close to the edge. "What do you want?"

"Why'd you leave the group?" Taryn cocked her head, widening her wicked smile. "We were just getting started."

"Getting started with what?" Miles scrunched his eyebrows. "You were dancing and sucking face and seeming to have quite the grand time. I didn't want to intrude."

Taryn swept up to him and set a hand over one of his pectorals. She squeezed gently, tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. "Intrude? You're invited, babe. Join us. Join me. A wild outdoors orgy under the stars, followed by a trek through the woods to rip shit up. Maybe find Kera and smash her brains in, yeah?"

Miles' initial reaction was to slap Taryn, but he held back, knowing it'd knock her out of her trance, and he needed her in her trance. Maybe Jessa wasn't the only one being messed up by the ruler. And maybe there was something in those beers, something currently cruising through Taryn's veins and unleashing her inhibitions.

Poison... like I thought. Is it possible?

"What about Lorenzo?" He recoiled from her touch. "And Vick and Jessa? I promise you Vick doesn't share."

"He will here. And Lorenzo? What about him?" Taryn grabbed his other pectoral, more forcefully this time. "We're not exclusive. No one is, not here. The ruler wants us all to mingle, to share our bodies, to share the blood we shed."

Miles gritted his teeth, doing his damndest to refrain from gagging once more.

So she does have some insight from the ruler? Or did Jessa tell her this?

"You need to loosen up, man," said Taryn, trailing her fingertips down his arms, ogling them as if they were thick penises dipped in chocolate. That idea brought a sick taste to Miles' mouth. Jessa was hot, yes, but Taryn wasn't his type at all. Cute, a nice body—but her mind was fucked up and she was a cruel, disrespectful person. Jessa at least had the sense to keep her personal, ill-viewed opinions to herself. "That's why we're here. Pleasure, violence, open up to nature and to what we truly are. So," she took his hand and drew it to her lips, tracing kisses over his fingers, "are you in?"

Miles swallowed, wondering how to get out of this. And where the fuck was Patrek, who was supposed to be his ally? He'd have thrown Taryn off, since she hated him. Surely this weird spell she was under wouldn't have changed that.

"I, uh," he tore from her grip, "I need to go get something from my cabin, first." He cringed. "Something that'll enhance the experience."

Taryn's eyes lit up and she clapped excitedly. "Oooh, secret drugs? Special booze? Yes, yes, please go get it. We'll be waiting by the fire." She started to move away, but at the last second hopped up to her tip-toes and plastered a wet kiss to Miles' cheek. "Hurry."

The moment he was out of view, Miles spat on the forest floor, and wiped at his cheek as if Taryn had poisoned it. He dashed into his cabin and locked the door behind him, closing his eyes. His heart was racing, his fingertips turning numb with disgust or rage, he couldn't tell.

He had no intention of returning to the campfire orgy Taryn was implying was about to happen. And Patrek? He'd have to fend for himself, wherever he was. He'd disappeared, leaving Miles alone to confront the lustful wolves who wanted to rip his clothes off and use his body for their pleasure.

Taryn's kiss had brought back flashes of Kera, of the kiss she'd placed on his cheek—or had she? Miles vaguely remembered her lips on his skin. Not wet and sticky like Taryn's, but gentle, sensual, triggering all sorts of pleasurable emotions in him.

He missed her, more than he'd expected to. And he was worried about her, more than he should have been.

"Maybe I should scout for her," he said, pulling off his t-shirt and tossing it across the entryway. "Keep a distant eye on her, to be sure she's still," he gulped, "alive."

As he slid into bed, he'd made up his mind—tomorrow, in broad daylight, he'd feign going on a hunt and try looking for Kera.

He rested his head into the soft pillow, and though he never prayed, he did pray that Kera was and would remain safe.