We both remained silent, just staring at each other. I noticed his breathing was shallow and his skin had been leeched of all color. Thinking it through, I was impressed he’d managed to get himself into such a tight spot. When they’d been made to run, both of them had still had the knives from the first game lodged in their skin.
He’d either removed them, which would result in him slowly bleeding out, or he still had them in, and they were being forced deeper into his body from the pressure of the shelf.
Mills swallowed hard when he saw I wasn’t looking away. “I—” His voice cracked. He tried again, whispering urgently. “Listen… I won’t say anything.”
I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door. Behind me, Josh moved on the bed.
“I won’t tell anyone what I saw,” Mills continued quickly. “I won’t go to the police. I swear. I’ll disappear. You’ll never hear from me again.” He was shaking now, words spilling out faster and faster. “You two came in here instead of hunting us. Youdidn’t go looking for anyone. You locked the door. So—so clearly you don’t want to do this either.” His eyes flicked toward Josh. “Right? Y-you were the one earlier who was against all this.”
I glanced back at Josh, who’d grabbed one of the pillows, and dragged it across his lap, covering himself before he sat up.
“Please,” Mills begged hoarsely. “You must have come in here because you didn’t want to hurt anyone. So why not just… help me leave?”
Josh was quiet for a moment, then asked softly, “Could we..?” He pushed the pillow aside and carefully swung his legs off the bed, hands shaking as he grabbed his pants from the floor and slid them back on. “I mean…” he said, voice uncertain. “He’s right. We weren’t planning on hunting them.”
Mills’s eyes lit with desperate hope. “Yes—exactly,” he rushed. “Exactly. You don’t have to do this.”
Josh stood and buttoned his jeans. “I don’t like all the bloodshed,” he admitted quietly.
His gaze lifted to mine.
I held his eyes, then, very subtly, I shook my head once.
The message was simple.
He’s not leaving this room alive.
Josh stared at me for another second, expression unchanging. He already knew what I had to do. And I think he was helping.
I turned toward the man behind the bookshelf again. “Alright,” I said calmly. “We’ll help you.”
Mills’s shoulders sagged with relief so fast it was almost painful to watch. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Oh my God, thank you—”
“Come out,” I said. “Or do you need help? Looks like you’re in there tight.”
“I-I got it.” He hesitated only a second before awkwardly shifting, trying to pull himself free from behind the shelf. Whenhe finally slipped free, I couldn’t stop the small wince that tugged at my face.
The knives were still there, and each movement made the handles shake.
He took a step toward the door. “Thank you,” he said again, voice raw.
He didn’t even see me move.
One second, I was standing beside the bathroom door.
The next, I was behind him.
The belt snapped tight across his throat.
Mills choked in shock, hands flying up instantly to grab at the leather digging into his neck.
“What—” The word came out strangled.
I twisted the belt tighter and dragged him backward.
We hit the floor hard.
He thrashed, heels scraping uselessly against the hardwood as he clawed at the belt with shaking fingers.
