She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t give herself to a stranger—let alone several. She’d never even given herself to a friend.
How many were there? Who organized such a thing? The depravity of it all was dizzying.
Her tooth throbbed as she massaged her jaw, but found no relief.
A million pounds…
Her stare snagged on the box holding her mother’s ashes. The thought of doing what they described was unthinkable. Her imagination simply couldn’t fathom such an experience. But could she do twenty more years of this? Could she accept a lifetime of feeding sheets through machines? That she could picture, with all of its mundane, unrewarding misery.
She chewed her lower lip. The safeword anchored her thoughts. Her mind kept coming back to the safeword, the way her tongue returned to her aching tooth.
Reluctantly, she reached for her phone and continued reading.
* * *
SECTION V: GROUNDS & BOUNDARIES
* * *
The Hunt will take place on a private estate comprising approximately 200 acres. Designated safe zones will be marked with green lanterns. The Hunt begins at sunset and ends at sunrise. Tributes still uncaptured at sunrise will receive their full participation payment of £1,000,000.
Sunset to sunrise. Twelve hours. Two hundred acres. That was a lot of ground. If she found good hiding spots, stayed mobile, and avoided the obvious paths, she might survive the night without being caught.
They said the million pounds was for participating. A capture resulted in more. If she participated…
A million pounds…
Her brain couldn’t envision such a sum.
She continued to read. Her eyes roamed over pages and pages of terms in what seemed like an unending and very well-thought-out agreement. The sheer detail made her believe this sort of twisted event had happened before. She considered the other women who might have had the courage to go through with such a crazy request. She wasn’t sure if she could be that kind of woman.
A million pounds…
With less than twenty minutes left, she read the final section.
SECTION VI: CONFIRMATION OF UNDERSTANDING
* * *
By signing below, you affirm that you have read and understood all terms, consent freely to participate in The Hunt as a Tribute, and accept responsibility for your own experience while acknowledging the safeguards in place.
Upon submission, a good-faith deposit will be transferred to your designated account immediately.
With only a few minutes left to decide, she tried to make up her mind. Her brain was on overload. Her choice could be a life-altering decision—or not.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Questions flooded her mind, filling her head in a deafening roar as she searched desperately for answers that didn’t exist. How was she supposed to make up her mind in such a state?
Surviving a lifetime of wondering what could have happened would be worse than surviving a single night. But she couldn’t find the nerve to say yes.
“Fuck.” She massaged her temples and scrubbed her palms over her face. “Fuck!”
She searched the final statement for a sign, something—anything—that might help her make up her mind.
A good faith deposit…
She hadn’t given any banking information, and they hadn’t said how much. But these people—whoever they were—didn’t play with small numbers.
One million pounds... Possibly two.
