"GET MOVING. WE don't have all day."

Devora winced slightly from the sudden flash of sunlight that shone into the cabin, blinding her for a moment.

After the brief conversation she had with Leah, Devora had dozed off again into a dreamless sleep. It was by some stroke of miracle had they finally touched down just as Devora had woken up and she couldn't be more pleased. Being cramped up in a hunk of metal was not a pleasant experience especially since she was still injured with a bullet wedged in her leg.

She had noticed that the bandages on her leg were now a fresh set. It had been changed and the voice at the back of her mind practically sang Nathan's name when she thought of who could've possibly helped her. There was no doubt about that, of course. The men in front couldn't be bothered about them and both Leah and Travis had their hands cuffed to the metal bars of their seats. That left Nathan as the only one that could roam around as freely as he pleased within the confines of the cabin. He was also probably the only one willing to help her.

A hand reached for Devora when she got up too slow, gripping her upper arm painfully as she yelped in shock. The fingers of the man tightened around her flesh as she struggled to break free from the excruciating brute strength. Within seconds, however, his hand was swatted away from her.

"Hey! Hands off, Gray. She's injured." Nathan placed a protective arm around Devora's shoulder, pulling her closer to his own body as he glared at the older man.

As soon as Nathan spoke up, Gray backed off, albeit with a dissatisfied look on his face. He grunted once in acknowledgment before gesturing for the rest of the men to follow him into the building, disappearing wordlessly through the doors.

Climbing out of the aircraft, Devora dared a quick glance past the railings that prevented her from falling to her death. It elicited a shiver from her as she assessed the hundred-feet drop down to the solid city pavement below her. The building they were on seemed to be at the edge of a city Devora didn't recognize, just right next to a stretch of open highway that led towards nowhere.

Cursing under her breath, she pulled back before limping her way towards where Leah and Travis were. The long hours seated in awkward positions added with the runs she struggled through in the forest had caused serious side effects to her injured leg. Now that she was safe from the chase, the adrenaline had worn off. All was left was a searing pain that burned through her flesh like an untamed forest fire. Devora gritted her teeth in pain, desperately trying to keep herself from crying. Her vision started to blur as she continued to stubbornly trudge on, eventually tripping and collapsing into Nathan's ready and outstretched arms.

"Whoa there. Be careful."

"Don't touch me," she wilfully hissed out. "I don't want your help."

Shrugging herself away from Nathan's grip, Devora hobbled forward with great difficulty, depending heavily on her good leg and the metal railings to steady herself. Nathan kept himself a single step behind Devora the entire time, ready to catch her if she fell again but otherwise keeping the distance she had requested.

Once they made it to the elevator where half the men waited, Devora fell to the elevator floor with a groan, cradling her legs tenderly as a sharp sting stabbed through her flesh. She wheezed in pain, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she took in heavy successive pants. Through the tears that had misted her eyes, she could make out the shape of Nathan as he bent down close to her. Cautiously, he edged forward before pulling Devora into his arms, holding her close to his body with an arm under her knees and another around her back. He lifted her up in a bridal style before standing back up with ease as if she weighed nothing.

Alarmed by the sudden movement, her arms instinctively came to wrap around his neck, holding on for her dear life. She couldn't tell which was louder— the ache of her wound or the pounding of her own heart.

"Stop being so stubborn," Nathan chastised. Devora blinked the tears from her eyes, allowing two crystal-like drops to drip from the corner of her eyes. From such a close distance, she could see his long lashes and warm honey eyes gazing down on her. "You might not want my help but you definitely need it."

Even his words felt soothing to her ears.

♕♕♕

The soles of the men's shoes clanked heavily against the hardwood floors as the elevator doors opened and revealed a winding set of corridors. Carpets soon lined the wood within a few steps, drowning out the noise and replacing it with near silence as they journeyed down the labyrinth. Devora took the time to observe her surroundings, her lips slightly parted in awe.

To her right, instead of a wall, there were only ceiling-to-floor glass windows that allowed the sunlight in. Unlike how Devora had expected an assassin facility to look like, the place they were in seemed more like an office building than anything else. The floors were lined with plush wine-red carpets, the walls to the left colored dark gray.

Despite the sickening feeling in her belly, she was still nonetheless shocked that the interior of the building seemed friendly.

There weren't walls splattered with dried out bloodstains nor floors and pipes that seemed rusty and old like she had imagined. The corridor was ventilated with an air-conditioner and Devora could even catch a faint whiff of pine and lemon fragrance in the air.

Ahead of them by a few steps was Leah, her chin tilted upwards defiantly. Her steps were wide and confident, keeping pace with the rest of the men with no fear in her eyes. She acted as though there was nothing left in the world that could take her down despite her breakdown just hours ago. There wasn't a smile on her face, obviously, but her body movements made her seem stronger than Devora had ever seen her. Having witnessed her sister's murder, Leah had learned to conceal her emotions far better than before. There was a little red where the metal of the handcuffs kissed her skin but that didn't seem to irritate her. In fact, she became a whole new person the very second she stepped out of that helicopter.

In stark contrast, Travis seemed the most disturbed by their current predicament. His steps dragged on one after another and more often than not, the men that walked behind him had to push him forward. He would stumble a little and match their paces before returning to his sloth-like speed, the soles of his feet barely lifting from the ground. His back was hunched, figure slouching and bent forward, eyes glued to the ground. With how his hair fell over his face, he looked like a prisoner about to meet his death sentence.

While the two siblings had strides that didn't match, Devora was safely carried in Nathan's arms. He had refused to let her down to her feet no matter how much she had protested. After a while, she eventually gave up. As much as she didn't want to depend on the same person that had dragged her into this mess, she couldn't deny herself the relief Nathan provided her. She allowed herself a moment of weakness and indulged in comfort.

Finally, they stopped in front of a set of double doors. They were made of heavy wood, Devora assumed. It was a rich, dark color decorated with intricate carvings and a set of platinum handles. On each door was a diamond-encrusted knocker made of what seemed like gold shaped in a lion's head. In all her life, Devora had never thought she would ever meet someone that could splurge so much money on a simple entrance.

"When he lets you in, never look him in the eye unless asked to. Do not speak unless spoken to and do not refuse his commands if you wish to keep your life." Gray's thick voice sliced through the silence that enveloped them, forcing Devora to look up at him.

He had his hands on one of the knockers, readying himself to alert the person inside of their arrival. Once Gray was sure that he had all eyes on him, he cleared his throat before slamming the knocker down three consecutive times. He then took a step back, silently waiting for a reply. No one dared to speak up. Even the rest of the men looked somber as they stared at their feet, their hands placed in front of them as if preparing to bow.

Gingerly, Nathan finally let Devora down. He kept his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as she sought after balance. When Devora switched her attention towards him, he mouthed the words, careful not to let his voice leak through.

"You have to stand on your own," his lips read. "I can't carry you in there."

Finally, after what felt like eternity, a voice came from inside.

"Come in," it said.

Instantly, all the guards perked up with sudden energy and enthusiasm. It wasn't as though they wore smiles on their lips but rather they seemed more eager to please than before. Even Nathan, who was by her side, had straightened his back, eyes solemnly staring straight ahead. Everyone waited patiently for Gray to push the heavy doors open.

The suspense was nerve-wracking. Devora chewed on her bottom lip, ignoring the sharp sting when her teeth tore through the skin of her lip. Call it intuition but there was a voice that was yelling at her to run for her dear life. It warned that her life would never return to the way it was before once she stepped into that room. The second she walked in, her life would be sealed and owned by someone far more powerful than she could ever deal with.

When the doors finally swung open, everyone started their slow march inward. Nathan's hand was still pressed against her back, gently urging her forward.

"Stay calm," he whispered, his breath fanning over her, his words spoken only for her ears. The grip he had on her waist tightened protectively. "This man can practically smell fear so don't show it. You'll be fine. He won't kill you, not when he spared so much effort to get you here alive."

Turning back a little in confusion, Devora tried to sift out clues from Nathan's stoic expression. She raised an eyebrow, questioning, "And why would he do that?"

However, Nathan didn't offer her a reply. He merely spared her an apathetic glance before he turned his attention back to the widely-opened doors.

The room they had entered was hauntingly dark, designed with black wallpaper that crept up the walls and navy carpets that only added to the tenebrosity. The only streak of light that was allowed in originated from the giant floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked both the right and left sides of the desk in the room. The said-desk was made of glass, placed at the far back of the room. From where it was positioned which was right in front of an opaque wall, none of the natural light that was allowed into the room actually hit the center of the table. It only touched the corners of the desk, separating the desk into three sections of light and dark, just barely tinting it with golden sunlight. There was a sofa and a few matching velvet armchairs in the center of the room, complete with a low coffee table and a round rug beneath it. The rug, which was a colorfully woven piece, stood out as the only splash of life in the otherwise gloomy room. 

Behind the desk was a man that sat in a leather chair, his face obscured by the shadows in the room. Only his vague outline could be seen, nonchalantly resting his chin on the back of his hand as he stared in the direction of the door. He placed the papers in his spare hand back onto the desk as Devora's group walked in, turning his attention to his visitors.

Devora sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, a shiver running its course down the back of her spine as her hairs stood on their ends. The blood in her body froze and for a second there she forgot how to walk.

Nathan was right about the man. He could indeed smell fear and not only could he sense her growing trepidation but he also seemed to revel in it. Rolling his seat forward, some of the light that streamed in from the windows lit up the lower half of his face, displaying a pair of lips that were curved into a sinister smile.

"Leave them. You may go," the man said, intertwining his fingers together. If Devora hadn't known any better, she might've thought that he was talking directly to her. "Close the doors behind you.."

Right after he had spoken his piece, Devora heard the sound of clinking metal. Both Leah and Travis had been uncuffed, their hands finally free from the metal piece that bound them together. Thrown forward, the two siblings stumbled a little before finally regaining their balance, finally free from the guards' holds. Leaving them in the room, Gray and his men bowed in perfect synchronization before they retreated out of the room, closing the doors behind them with a resonating slam. That left the four teenagers — Leah, Travis, Devora, and Nathan — in the mysterious room with an equally enigmatic gamemaster.

"As for the four of you..." the man trailed off. He paused, smirking a little though his smile held no warmth. On the contrary, it dipped the room's temperature below freezing point. "Give me a reason as to why I should spare your lives."

Even the sound of a pin dropping on the carpeted floor could be heard in the silence that followed. Devora squeezed her eyes shut, praying hard for her life in her head. It was a doomed game the very second she had been grabbed off the streets, she knew now. There was never a way for her to escape. Now, she only hoped that she could retain her insignificant life after stepping into the playground ruled by the god of death.

————

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