This Little Game

Chapter 1: The Game

"Let go of me!"

George shouted at the british soldiers restraining him, his hands bound in the cold, metal cuffs behind his back. He pulled at the chain linking his wrists, but knew deep down it was useless.

He was trapped.

They pushed him into a wide corridor, with cells lining the sides, windows within being the only source of natural light. They didn't close his cell door though, which was weird in itself. All other lights emanated from the torches along the wooden walls. Along one of them, a small wooden table, and a chair beside it. There looked to be something laying on the wooden surface, but George couldn't make it out. From the outside of the ship, you could never guess a room this vast existed.

George studied his surroundings quickly, his ice blue eyes landing on the man that stood in the center of the corridor, roughly twenty metres away.

Benedict Arnold.

The soldiers restraining him finally let go of his arms, pushing him clumsily forward a few steps. George scowled over his shoulder at the men, then sent his intense gaze in the direction of their leader.

"Welcome, my dearest George!" Benedict exclaimed, stretching his arms out for emphasis. "It's been far too long since you and I've had the chance to make acquaintance."

George said nothing, just continued to stare daggers at the traitorous defector. Benedict's expression turned to one of mocking disappointment.

"Oh, come now. You know I hate morosity."

"What do you want, Arnold?" George finally spoke, brows still furrowed furiously.

"Well, I'd like to know why you and your soldiers were trespassing on my Chesapeake Bay in the first place." He said, linking his fingers together. "But, that's not a hard one to figure out. After all, I'm sure the colonies has suffered greatly from their poverty. And to be the cause of it?" He shook his head while giggling. "Oh heavens, the guilt must be unmeasurable."

George stared at the man, refusing to let his words get to him.

"So, here you are." Benedict gestured to the room around him, giving a devilish smile. "At my mercy once again."

"You have the entire Chesapeake Bay." George started, voice almost a growl. "Almost a third of my entire army, and an armada the size of fucking London at your disposal." Benedict nodded proudly to himself as the boy spoke. "What else could you possibly take from us?"

George voice was threatening, but lined with subtle hints of emotion.

"You know, I've never been one for vengeance, George." Benedict took a few steps forward, stopping when he was directly in front of George's opened cell. "But you and your army have caused quite the commotion these past few months."

George remained stoic as Benedict's expression turned to one of pure anger, he continued.

"Your little stunts have cost us far too many valuable resources, not to mention the damage you've done to my reputation as a General." As Benedict spoke, George nodded to himself in the same way the man had, mocking him. The British General scowled, but his face contorted into a sickening smile. "It's time you face the consequences of your actions, George."