“What do you think I’m doing?” Nico asks, standing up.
My mind stumbles over his words. He races past me to the table, snatching a scalpel and turning on me.
“What? Did you think I’d be above this?” Nico says.
I step back from him, the heel of my boot snagging on a piece of broken tile. He drags his right leg with each step.
“I fucking told you,” he sneers. “I’ve done nothing but think about this for weeks.”
I shake my head.
He laughs, too loudly, like a robot trying to imitate laughter even though they’ve never heard it before.
“Come on, Eden,” he says. “Do you really think you have a chance here?”
He lunges toward me. I scramble backward so fast I trip over my own feet, catching myself on all fours and pushing away from him.
He gives chase. I run until I reach the wall, then risk a glance over my shoulder. The brightness of the lightbulb has left me nearly blind, and it shines behind Nico, making him look like a shadow limping toward me. This has to be the most boring chasethe Game Master has ever seen. Will he get bored enough to come finish this himself?
I let Nico get close before darting away.
Nico charges forward, arm outstretched to catch me, but I change direction so suddenly that he overshoots. His hand swipes through empty air where I was a second ago.
He growls in frustration, going at me again. I lean back, arching my spine until his fingers brush my jacket without getting purchase.
“Eden.” He scrubs a hand down his face and smears more blood across his cheek. It looks black in the darkness. “Stop running and let this happen.”
Is his plan for him to catch me? Am I supposed to fight back? I don’t know what Nico’s plan could be beyond limping after me.
There’s no escaping the trial. There are only two minutes left. So, we need to fake our way through and come up with a plan to escape afterward.
I wish Nico could tell me what he’s planning without the Game Master hearing. I’m just going to have to trust him.
I wait until he’s almost on me before jumping in the direction of his injured leg. His knee buckles, and I slip past him.
I run for the table, my boots crushing debris. I stumble around to the other side of the table, putting it between us, and risk a glance up at the timer.
1:28
Nico stops himself on the table, gripping the edge of the flimsy plastic thing as he moves around it, forcing me to circle with him. The table is small. One of those folding ones you get at the hardware store, and it’s clear except for one more scalpel with a pointed tip.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this,” Nico says. “And how much of a relief it’s going to be.”
He feints left. When I dodge, he shoves the entire table forward at me.
I leap backward, but not fast enough. The table slams into my legs and sends me falling onto the ground.
Pain explodes up my arm. I have no time to recover before his weight crashes down on me, one knee slamming into my chest and the other pinning my arm to the ground. I cry out from the crushing pressure. The tile is so hard under me that it feels like my bones might crack.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to try to get close and tell me his plan, but he digs his knee in hard, grinding it into my sternum until black spots dance at the edges of my vision.
The grey rings in Nico’s eyes shine like halos in the spotlight.
“Did you really think you’d get the better of me?” Nico pins my free arm over my head. “I had to hold it together for Donny.” He adjusts his weight. “Then for the others, but it’s just you and me in here. I get to have you how I want you. What better opportunity than this? I can kill you and blame it on the Game Master.”
“Is this part of your plan?” I whisper, keeping my voice so low I’m barely moving my mouth.
Nico jams the scalpel under my jaw. The blade dimples my skin, and a cry snags in the back of my throat.
