Fear Games

11. Cover Me In Daises - Part I

* Authors Note: I was originally going to post Episodes 11 and 12 at the same time, but decided to post them separately. Here's Episode 11, which is Part 1 of the Season 5 finale! ENJOY! *

EDEN

Finding the old Fear Games house was easy enough. The hard part was actually trying to summon the energy to get out of the car and go inside to face who very well might be the new killer. Rachel and I sat in the car, staring at the old abandoned building in front of us, which was mostly dark inside minus a tiny light coming from the living room.

Josh was already here.

Rachel said, "Are we sure we're ready for this? To hear what Josh actually has to say to us?"

"He's probably going to try and kill us," I said, reaching into the backseat to pull out my handgun, then gave the second one to Rachel. "There won't be a whole lot of talking going on."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Rachel asked. "What if he's really just trying to be a friend and help us?"

There was a time many years ago where I never would have thought that Josh would hurt me or my family. We were best friends, inseparable, and he meant the world to me. But he abandoned me when I needed him most. In my time of mourning, in my time of healing the trauma the Fear Games caused, he dipped out and went off on his own to do whatever the hell he felt like. He had no idea how much that hurt. If he wasn't the killer, he was still dead—to me, anyway.

"Well, still. Fuck him," I said as I opened my door and stepped out of the car, my feet crunching against the leaves and sticks on the ground. "You coming?"

Rachel sighed and said, "You better not shoot him unless he actually tries to hurt us. And remember your plan. Don't do anything that would mess it up."

I certainly wouldn't. As the two of us walked toward the house, I wondered what I was going to do when I finally came face-to-face with my ex-best friend. Maybe I would hug him if he wasn't the killer. Or maybe I'd punch him in his face. There was really no telling.

We walked up the steps of the old house, the wood creaking beneath our feet. When we reached the door, I looked at Rachel and she nodded. Opening it up, we walked inside, right into the living room where the beginning of Rachel's horrors happened twenty years ago.

There was a lamp sitting in the middle of the living room on a table, and right behind it was...Josh Mitchell. He'd definitely aged over the last twenty years, with spots of grey mixed into his dark hair. He stood there in regular jeans and a black t-shirt, his eyes piercing right into my soul. He smiled, not wickedly, but gently, in a way that I remembered from all those years ago.

"I see you made it here safe and sound," Josh said softly.

Tears formed, but I clamped my eyes shut so that none came out. I didn't expect this moment to be so emotional. I said, "Of course we did. We're not dumb bitches like apparently you think we are."

"I don't think you're dumb at all," Josh said as he walked around the table to get closer to us. "If anyone is a dumb bitch, it's me. I can't believe that I have allowed this to go on as long as I have."

"Allowed what?" Rachel asked. "My daughter said that you claim to know who the killer is, but you wouldn't tell her. Is that true?"

Josh sighed. "It's not as straightforward as you might think it is. Things are...complicated."

"How is it complicated?" I asked. "Either you know who the killer is or you don't. Which is it?"

Josh motioned toward the couch and said, "Please, sit. Let me explain it all to you." He then pointed at our guns. "And I beg you not to use those. Just trust me."